Here’s What Happened When I Stopped Eating Paleo For A Day

I’m up seven pounds and more than a percent body fat and that's not all.

It’s a rainy Monday in 2005, and I’m starving.

I’ve been eating plain chicken breasts and broccoli for years — and telling everyone I train to do the same — but I hate it. I stay on the path, but I’m struggling.

It’s a frigid evening late in 2007, and I’m desperate.

I do a little research, open my mind, and stumble upon Dr. Loren Cordain’s book, “The Paleo Diet.”

It’s a brisk sunny Sunday morning in early 2008, and I’m not starving anymore.

Actually, I’m leaving a Bob Evans breakfast of blueberry pancakes and omelets. I call it a variety day because I hate the word cheat and never want lousy food to be considered a treat. Before the day is done, I’ll have Donatos pizza, Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Lots of them.

But I feel great, have since I went Paleo — except for Sunday’s, of course. Satisfied. For once, it feels like my menu is finally right for me. So much so I write my own book about my version of The Paleo Diet.

It’s a humid Thursday in 2012, and it’s been months since I last had pizza.

In fact, it’s been almost a year since I had anything that isn’t considered Paleo. The once a week binge eating wasn’t working for me, so I slowly began to extend my time between over-feedings. First, it was two weeks, then three, then a month. Now nearly twelve.

It’s a bright fall day in 2015, and I’m content.

It’s been more than a year of 100-percent Paleo compliance, and I feel powerful. I decide to take a break and eat an entire pizza. I go home happy and pass out, belly full and head spinning. I don’t remember anything remarkable after that, except for the fact that I head right back into my routine the next day, and I don’t stop.

It’s an uncharacteristically snowy Christmas Day in Nashville 2020, and I’m all in.

I have Fruity Pebbles donuts, several supremes from Pizza Hut, and Mcdonald’s is just down the road. And it’s open on Christmas!

It’s been exactly a year since my last time off the Paleo reservation, and I’m excited to see how this feels.

The donuts go down easy. I’m watching Batman Returns because it’s Christmas, and I don’t notice how many I eat. My stomach swells, but that’s to be expected.

Later, after several Mcdonald’s double cheeseburgers — pretty much the best burgers on the planet — and pounds of fries, my belly is hard as a rock. But I don’t care, there are pizzas and cookies and Cinnamon Toast Crunch to eat. And I’m not giving up.

It’s a windy 1:04 am the day after Christmas 2020, and I can’t sleep.

The trash cans are full of empty boxes of processed food. I’m usually cold at night, but here I am, sweating, writhing like a wounded animal, trying my best not to turn onto my insanely swollen stomach.

I look pregnant.

Like Before, I get back on my routine the next day — without it, I’m lost — and head into the snowy streets of Nashville, long before the sun comes up. I hope the extra carbs pay off with a PR run.

I’m not the man I once was. Older, obviously, but wiser too. Instead of ignoring the signs of over-indulgence, I note how I feel. I can say with absolute confidence that this is the most challenging run I can remember in a long time. My joints are on fire, my feet hurt for the first time in … ever. And my belly itches, gurgles, and bellows like a Dragon.

I workout three more times that day, and every time it feels like the first time. It’s okay, I tell myself, what did you expect?

It’s a gloomy Saturday in 2021, eight long days since pizza, and burgers, and everything else I never eat. And I’m still not the same.

The inside of my mouth is finally calming down. It was like I had guzzled radioactive coffee and burned everything from my lips to my esophagus. But here’s the thing, I didn’t.

I still go to the bathroom more, like a lot more. And what’s really interesting is that I eat the same three Paleo meals each day and have ever since Christmas.

For five days I couldn’t drink enough water.

I’m up seven pounds and more than a percent body fat and holding.

I want donuts for the first time in a year.

Also, I want to sleep more than usual and struggle to stay awake.

Today I’m better at experimenting than I’ve ever been. I know that the only thing I’ve done differently within the last year is eat donuts, pizza, and cheeseburgers for Christmas.

And I’m still paying for it.

So why did I do it? Why, if I like the way I feel, look, and perform when I eat well, would I sabotage that for some sugar and fat? Good question. I’ve been asking myself that ever since. That, and was it worth it?

While the donuts were delicious, and the pizza was epic, the resulting damage from one bad day is terrifying. A great reminder of why I do what I do and why I’ve been helping others for decades. But also a stern wake-up call of just how disabling a single day of poor eating can be. It makes me wonder how many people walk around feeling like I’ve felt this last week and thinking that’s just normal.

Your menu doesn’t have to be Paleo. It’s doesn’t have to be keto or intermittent fasting or whatever the next big thing is, either. It just has to make you feel good. That’s what food is for — making us feel our best. And if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, it’s that there is no way you know what feeling good is if you’ve never given up the food that’s making you sick.