This is pretty long but I thought I'd post it anyway..... This is an essay of a personal fasting experience, Self magazine, August 2003, page 102.



My “Hey, baby!” Weight
by Cindy Chupack, Executive Producer of Sex and the City

Is getting noticeably thinner worth feeling faint from hunger? Cindy Chupak tries fasting to find out.

“I am going on a 10-day Fast. In preparation for this, I have eaten most of the contents of my refrigerator. I now feel sick enough to abstain from eating for at least a day, if not longer.

This fast is called the Master Cleanser, aka, the Lemonade Diet, because each day you drink 6-12 glasses of “lemonade”, a bizarre mixture of maple syrup, cayenne pepper and other unappetizing ingredients.

I believe this fast is medically sound because I know people who have done it. Well, OK, I know one person who has done it, but he knows other people who have done it. And there is a booklet. Most diets, I know, at least merit a book. But the Master Cleanser is written by a man who, when he is not fasting,
survives on fruits, vegetables and seeds, so this is not a man who sends in a book to do a booklet’s job, if you know what I mean.

I tell myself this is not about weight loss. I know I can’t expect to keep off the pounds I shed while fasting. I just want to cleanse my system and get rid of the so-called toxins. Plus, after eating nothing for 10 days, it’ll be easy to make smaller changes to my diet, like eliminating cupcakes.

DAY 1

I prepare a pitcher of the lemonade, thinking that if I were to pick a drink to live on for 10 days, it would probably be something along the lines of a banana daiquiri. But I suppose that would be considered a problem rather than a fast.

By late afternoon I’m a little hungry, and I notice the place where I really have a Pavlovian response is my kitchen. I make a mental note that I’m not sure whether I go to the kitchen when I’m hungry or whether being in the kitchen makes me hungry. This is the kind of profound thought you have on a 10-day fast.

At night I go to see a Nick Lowe concert. I find that instead of watching Nick Lowe, I am watching the guy at a table in front of me who has ordered a large bowl of penne and eaten only half. He pushes the pasta to one side of the bowl and can’t seem to finish it. I can’t bear it. I don’t understand why the waitress
doesn’t take it away so we can all go back to enjoying the show.

DAY 2

You know how if you used to drink a lot at parties, and then you stop, you suddenly realize how stupid drunk people sound at parties? That’s how I am about food today. I can’t believe how many people say “I’m starving!” The truth is we are not actually starving when we say we are starving. I know this because
I’m not “starving” and I am essentially starving. The downside of this new enlightened me is that I am becoming one of those women I hate -- the ones who say food is not that important to them and who begin their sentences with “The truth is ...”

I did pass an important test tonight. I had my first dinner out without having dinner. I had hot mint tea (which is sanctioned) while my friends has Italian. My profound thought for the evening was this: Maybe conversation is like food. Maybe it can be just as satisfying. But then the food cam, and I remembered:
Conversation is not like food. Food is like food. Food is like eggplant parmigiana.

DAY 3

OK, it’s not about weight loss, but I have lost 6 pounds! My only complaint is that I am not being very productive. I spent most of my time enjoying my new favorite pastime: trying on clothes that didn’t fit the day before.

DAY 4

I lost another pound! I must figure out how to see the maximum number of people at this present and probably unsustainable weight. My friend mark invites me to a Yankees game. Perfect. Yankee stadium. Sold-out game; 56,000 people. Maybe I’ll get on the Jumbotron! By the second inning, thought, I realize that baseball games are not about baseball; they are about hot dogs and beer.

I didn’t bring any of my lemonade, mainly because I didn’t want to explain to some humorless guard that I had a ‘special drink’ in my water bottle. So I drink water for the first nine innings, but by the eighth extra inning (Oakland A’s, August 9, 2002; look it up if you want), I am wondering, What would one Cracker Jack do? Mark bought a box and gave me his prize. I thought: Maybe prizes are like food. But this prize was just a sticker. I am disappointed; almost depressed. I deeply wanted something three dimensional, like a ring. Or a Cracker Jack.

DAY 5

I am not only surviving this fast, today I make it through a Spin class. Then I go out for sushi without having sushi, and sushi is my favorite. I am extremely impressed with myself.

DAY 6

I have lost 9 pounds! I ask friends over to watch Sex and the City and tell them to bring whatever they want to eat. Nobody brings anything. They ate beforehand in deference to my fast. Except for Mark -- the same Mark who ate a box of Cracker Jacks in front of me. He ordered pizza.

DAY 7

Today, continuing to see as many people as possible at this weight, I went to Madison Square Garden for a Bruce Springsteen concert. Not only did I survive the concert and a four-tiered tower of shellfish without eating a bite, but I also made it through running into an ex-boyfriend. The kicker: I didn’t sleep with him! We went back to my place and just ... caught up. Profound discovery of the evening: If I can sit in a restaurant and not eat, I can sit in my apartment with my ex and not have sex.

DAY 8

I am down to my “Hey, baby!” weight. I know this because I was walking down the street and a construction worker said, “Hey, baby!” Apparently, for women there’s baby weight and then there’s “Hey, baby!” weight. The only side effect I’m suffering is trouble getting to sleep. And I need sleep, because tomorrow I am beaming my skinny self across America. Yes, in an amazing coincidence of timing, I was asked to be on The Early Show to discuss a story I wrote.

DAY 9

The bad news: I only got four hours of sleep. That’s the thing about The Early Show -- it’s very early. The good news: I have lost 10 pounds! The camera, however, adds 10 pounds, so I figure I’m even.

DAY 10

It’s now all about the weight. How to keep it off. How to keep my cheekbones. The booklet says 10 days is the minimum fast, but you can go up to 40. I consider this, which leads to my final profound thought: There are things from which we can abstain and things we can’t. Food, yes. Sex with an ex, yes. Obsessing about our weight, no.

I decide not to continue the fast, because I did what I set out to do, and I am not Ghandi. I’m pretty sure Ghandi didn’t jump on the scale and shout “Woo hoo!”