30 Days on a Raw Milk Fast

223958Experimentation with action. Experimentation with results. Experimentation with input, should equate into a differentiation in output. I have done all sorts of things with/to my body, hoping for the right combination, subtraction, addition, ratio, that will equate into the best me possible. i swam all the time when i was younger. played basketball at a high level until it was all i did. chain smoked for years as the booze filled my belly and the acid caused my brain to see the real world. I’ve always loved running and pushups and squats and feeling the energy of being alive. i no longer drink or smoke or do drugs. since that door shut upon my world ive drained my body of all foods during a 24 day water fast and a six-day juice fast, to live only on liquids for 30 days. the pounds melted off my frame in the form of a 35 pound weight extraction. i was hungry at the end of that disciplined drainage.

my most recent endeavor just ended yesterday. the raw milk fast. it was amazing. although if done right, or differently, i believe it could do all the wonders the doctors of the eras past claim it could do. both of my fasts have been filled with some sort of stress or another. when i say stress, i mean, when i was on my water fast, i still cooked quite a bit for my girlfriend, and enjoyed a few cooking shows a bit too much; and when on the milk fast, i did still work. when i say to do it right, i believe several hours of meditation must be done, and journalling, and more bed rest, with relaxing jazz or meditation music off in the background. but alas, those are just a few changes i would make…

the raw milk diet was wonderful though. i started off just jumping right into it. the cows i get my milk from are jersey cows, and the milk is deeeeelicious. i have been drinking raw milk for close to 3 years now, have never ever even had the slightest problem with it, and always thought that it tasted exactly how milk should taste, full-bodied, frothy, creamy, and medicating for the whole body. i started by drinking close to 5-6 quarts a day, and was also adding about a half quart of raw yogurt a day. i continued to eat the raw yogurt with my milk every day, until i realized i was having some problems peeing an inordinate amount. I found that yogurt can be really aggravating to the bladder. I found this out because i used to piss an ungodly amount my whole life, regardless of the liquid intake, and if i drank a 12 pack of beer, i would always be in the bathroom 10x more than someone who was drinking the same. but that is the beauty of the raw milk diet, because if you are adding anything else to it, you will know that it must be the other thing that causes the inflammation.

my sleep improved many times over, and i must say, there is nothing as calming as waking up and knowing exactly what i am going to be eating—raw, ever so wonderful like-giving, milk—and that for lunch, snacks, and dinner, raw milk as well too!!! the mind can be put to so many other tasks when it knows it does not have to think about tasks like cooking, grocery lists, and the socialization behind food. i grew really attached to the milk in the past month, even to the point of emotions. i did not order enough milk for this next week, and as the 30th day came and went, i was not so sure i wanted to go back to food. if i had not just purchased two grass fed ribeyes that i was drooling to eat raw in the upcoming week, i don’t think i would have gone back to eating now. i have always been on the prowl for a diet that just feeds me exactly what i need, no bullshit. and i think i have found it with this raw milk fast. my last two weeks, i cut down to 3-4 quarts a day, and there were days i think even just 2-3 would have been ample enough for all my needs.

this morning i ate a bowl of 16 hour soaked steel-cut oats and two soft-boiled eggs, and the steel oats were delicious, but somehow i felt as though i were cheating on my raw milk. i mean, i had a nice poured glass of it sitting in front of me, and it still tasted so refreshing, but there was just something lacking about the food to me. the whole process of chewing was not the same as i had remembered it.

laying in bed in the mornings, thinking about how good the milk would taste when i walked down the stairs to drink my lukewarm milk that had awaited for me on the counter all night, i would picture myself with dusty jeans and leather chaps, with my cowboy hat, denim jacket and leather boots, strutting across the prairie, towards the one true love of my life…the gorgeous jersey cow chewing grass in the early morning sunlight, waiting to have the life-giving perfect food milked out of her, so that i could be filled with the energy and share in the radiance of the harmony of life.