As I look back on my life I see many life lessons. Most make sense but some are ridiculous, comical and make me shake my head. Here is one such life lesson.

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Life Lesson: How (Not) To Break A Fast

It was my senior year in high school and I had a new-found sense of social awareness. I suddenly realized that I could have a profound impact on the world around me. Climate change, animal rights, the environment, world peace… I could solve all these issues with passion and motivation.

Naturally, when my best friend asked me to participate in the 30 Hour Famine, I jumped at the opportunity. I would collect pledges and then not eat for 30 hours… 30 hours wasn’t very long. I could do this!

We started the fast on a Friday at 8 am and we decided to make a “party” of it and have movies and a sleepover at my apartment. Needless to say, making a “party” of our fast was not the best idea. We watched movies and talked about the snacks we were missing… licorice, popcorn, chocolate bars and pop. Every movie we rented had at least a few scenes with food in it. We talked about food and we discussed at great lengths what we were craving and missing the most.

By 2 pm Saturday we were practically running to the mall to break our fast. (You can sense where this is going, can’t you)?

We scoured the food court and then selected the items we craved the most.

I stood in line and then blurted out my order when it was my turn: an assorted meats submarine sandwich, a bag of ketchup chips and a medium chocolate milkshake. I really wanted an order of poutine, but I decided to take it easy… maybe I would come back and order poutine for supper. I sat at a table with my friends and we scarfed down our food. After some hugs and saying our goodbyes, we went our separate ways.

I began my walk home feeling stuffed and satisfied.

Then I felt it… a bit of a bubble deep in my gut. My walk quickened.

The bubble slowly built into a grumble. I was jogging now.

The grumble turned into a rumble. My jog turned into a sprint.

Oh. My. God. I’m going to poop my pants!

I got to my apartment building and felt like I was trapped in the scene of a horror movie as I tried to put my key into the keyhole. I ran up the stairs of my building (all the while squeezing my butt cheeks together, hoping that no poop would escape).

I threw open the door of my apartment, I tore my pants off whilst stumbling/running to the bathroom.

Explosive poop… 30 hours of explosive poop.

I spent pretty much the rest of my weekend on the toilet and never did go back to the mall for poutine.

Life Lesson Learned: 

Don’t break a fast with a meat sub, ketchup chips and a milkshake.

Jennifer Bly

Author of My Kitchen, My Classroom: An Introduction to Homeschool and creator of The Deliberate Mom. Jennifer writes about parenting, homeschooling, her faith, and life with her husband and two girls. Jennifer has a Bachelor of Applied Human Service Administration Degree with a specialization in Early Learning in Child Care.