In an extract from her new book Wellmania, Guardian Australia columnist Brigid Delaney recalls the agony – and unfortunate side effects – of a 15-day fast
By day five without food, there is no hiding from the truth: I smell bad. Really bad. Not sweaty, but like something that’s been left in the bin too long and is rotting.
At first, lying in bed on a beautiful sunny day, with the windows open and the breeze blowing in, I think a backpacker must have left chicken carcasses in the bins in the neighbouring park. Revolting, I think, whoever left meat out to rot is gross. (Or in my slow state of cognition, what I actually think is: Smell meat bad, chicken, gross, rotting backpacker.)
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