On February 12, 1943, 73-year-old Muhatma Gandhi began a 21-day fast in Poona, India. He wanted unity between the Hindu and Muslim religions, removal of the label “untouchable” given to lower class people in India, restoration of home industries, and independence from the British government. He declared he would fast until changes were made in India, even if that meant starvation and ultimately sacrifice.

On February 18, 2015, 32-year-old Michele Moore began a 24-hour fast in Nashville, Tennessee. She wanted to prove to herself and the people whom she had snap-chatted that day that she really could go a full day without eating, and she also wanted to “detox” her body of things like, I don’t know, cafeteria beans and salad with croutons. She declared she would only fast until she decided she could no longer fast, and she was not willing to sacrifice her life.

I am not Mahatma Gandhi.

I wish I could say that I woke up at 6:00 am, did an hour of yoga followed by an awakening meditation session while sipping on red tea and reflecting on the beauty of the world. At 10:00am, I cracked open every book in the library and finished a 15-page research paper that I wasn’t even required to write. I drank some fresh-squeezed orange juice at approximately noon and did some more meditation and reflected a little more about how peaceful and wonderful the human race is. I studied more, I learned more, I wrote more, I created more, I loved more…

That’s what I wish I could say.

It’s 9:30am. My obnoxious Jack Johnson alarm is screaming at me from above my head. I look at the time. Why would I wake up this early? I don’t have class until 12:00. I hit the snooze button. Once…twice…three times…
I proceed to change the time on my alarm to 10:30.
Jack Johnson is blaring once again.
Why would I wake up this early? I don’t have class until 12:00.
I hit the snooze button.
At 11:30 I’m finally out of bed, and I’m actually patting myself on the back for sleeping so late, because that means I have less time to think about not eating.
Long story short, my reasonless fast lasted until 3:00 when I was falling asleep on my computer and decided to buy a Naked Juice. After swallowing the juice in record speed, I packed up my unwritten essay, tried to lick any residue from the bottle cap, and walked to my house where I climbed back into bed and slept for another 2 hours.

If Gandhi were alive today, I would ask him how his brain and legs didn’t cease to function during his 21 days of no eating, because I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyelids open after 4 hours.

4 hours. Cheese!

I had chili and three pieces of bread when I woke up from my nap. I am not Mahatma Gandhi.

What I learned from fasting: 1. Don’t. 2. Gandhi is totally rad.

JMS