In short, it wasn't much fun. I felt like a zombie. Except not a scary zombie. More like a zombie that's too lazy to get up off the couch to eat some brains because he feels completely worthless. That's how tired I was. The hunger really wasn't an issue. By day 2 I could feed lil O food without a desire to take a bite myself. Really, the big issue for my stopping the fast was the feeling worthless part.
As for other physical symptoms, my urine was pretty odious. Also, I dreaded going to sleep, because I would sleep poorly then wake up super early. I guess you rest so much during the day that you don't need much sleep, which results in supreme boredom. So, all these factors convinced me to stop on the third day since I really didn't have any motivation to continue. I mean, I've been eating a pretty healthy diet for about 2 years. That has to help with cleansing somewhat, right?
Apparently not enough. The big event of the fast was on the morning of the third day. I had decided the night before to end the fast in the morning with an apple. So, I woke up at about 6:00 a.m. (2 hours earlier than normal) and grabbed an apple. I like eating apples in slices, so I got my knife and cutting board ready, gave my first meal a nice sniff, then ran to the toilet to vomit up a bunch of green bile-ish stuff. After three or four bouts of that, I turned to the sink and coughed up a bunch of mucus.
Weird, huh?
Definitely not pleasant, but I did feel better after. Although this does raise an interesting question. I haven't been sick with a mucus producing cough in at least 2 years. So, how long has that mucus been there? It definitely didn't arrive after I started the fast. Kinda gross to think about what else is stored inside my body.
I've heard that your first fast is the worst, and from the next one on all those stories about rejuvenation are more true. I'll try it again sometime for sure, but I'll wait until I feel like being a zombie again.