Virgil – The Man's Guide

Everybody wants the secret, the quick fix, the easy option, the magic pill – or, most recently, the magic injection. Now, I am fully behind weight-loss injections, but that is for another post. Here, we are focusing on a weight-management technique that is very close to my heart: the OMAD diet.

I was a fat lad – a fat child who lost some weight during puberty but ultimately was chunky all my days. My twenties were spent drinking and eating whatever I wanted, putting my head in the sand (or the fridge), and not taking control of what was my biggest goal in life: to be healthy and fit. When you are big, you get used to it. You find ways to make yourself feel better and nobody really mentions it. When I eventually lost weight, people would say, “You carried it well.”

My lifestyle was going to follow my football team: eating takeaways and lying to myself that if I played five-a-side football once a week, I would eventually lose the weight. I smoked roughly twelve cigarettes a day and was on a one-way train to an early death. I had constant heartburn, awful sleep and a constant mental struggle of quietly hating myself.

When COVID struck and the lockdowns started, most people went one of two ways. They either became lazy and drank themselves into believing the world wasn’t ending, or they became hyper-focused on goals. I was the latter. My Achilles’ heel was going out and socialising, which led to excessive drinking and eating utter bin food. So, when that was taken away from me, I locked in and decided to research as much as I could about health and fitness. I basically became a nutritionist with the amount of knowledge I took in about the body, metabolism, calories, macros and all the other nonsense. But ultimately, eating less and doing more is all you really need to focus on.

With all my newfound knowledge, I did what they tell you to do, but in my own extreme way. I created a set meal plan that matched my calorie deficit and hit my macros. I ate the same meals every single day for eight full weeks. The meals consisted of overnight oats, eggs, chicken and rice – that was it. Oh, and some protein shakes. I would only drink water and black coffee. When I say drink water, I mean I was chugging around four litres a day. I lost around three stone, or 17kg, in this eight-week period. I called this “eating like a dog”, with the theory being that your dog is fit and healthy and eats the same thing every single day.

You are probably wondering, I thought this was about OMAD? Yes, this was a solid way to lose weight, but for me it was an absolute slog every single day. I was miserable and had nothing to look forward to when I got in from work. As a foodie, as a man who loved his scran, this was just too much. I needed some give with my calories. Yes, I could probably eat more enjoyable meals, but who has the time or the brain power? So here comes the fasting.

I had hit a slight plateau and started reading about fasting. So you’re telling me that if I skip breakfast, I can have more calories later in the day?
It was a lightbulb moment. I love my dinner. I have always loved my dinner. The issue had been eating a load of shite all day and then still having a big dinner. Something had to give. The shite during the day. So if I don’t eat all day, I can basically eat whatever I want at night? Well, technically, yes.

Now, before I get slaughtered about micronutrients, metabolism and “feeding your fuel” blah blah – this is what worked for me and me only. You can decide what works for you.

Being fasted, even from the very start, felt like a rebirth. I suddenly realised I had been bloated my entire life. Finally, it felt like I could breathe and move with freedom. I even started training fasted: cardio, running and playing football. The way I describe it is the same way some boxers do – primal.
The feeling of being fasted during training was borderline painful, but a good pain. You could almost feel your body working, and it made me push myself even harder. People will tell you that you become clearer-minded when you are fasted. I thought this was a load of shite, until I realised I was starting work earlier every day and actually being productive. It wasn’t like I wanted to or was doing it deliberately; it was like my body was half a day ahead of where the clock said it should be. I was sleeping better, feeling lighter and overall better.

But the thing that kept me going all day, through the periods of hunger, the rumbling belly and the mental pressure of co-workers asking if I wanted a biscuit, was knowing I wasn’t going home to chicken and rice. I was going home to a whole chicken, a whole pizza with ice cream, a fucking guilt-free takeaway. I could enjoy my food again and still manage my weight goals.

Now, before people ask about social events, special occasions, drinking or blah blah – yes, this is very much a Monday-to-Friday plan. If my partner asks me to go for lunch on a Saturday, for Sunday brunch, or if my mates are having a day out at the pub, I will be eating, I will be drinking and I will be having a massive breakfast to make sure I’m not in bed by 3pm. It’s about having the mindset to plan your weeks, be disciplined and make choices that suit you and your body. If you’re someone who needs breakfast or you’ll collapse with a headache, this isn’t for you. But if you’re someone who could maybe make it to lunchtime – or even to dinner…