I’ve entered what I call Chapter Four of my medical story — the phase shaped by liver-only metastases, ongoing scans, rising and falling numbers, and the looming chemo regimen that will eventually close this chapter. But the day-to-day reality of living with cancer isn’t only measured in CT slices or biomarkers. It’s measured in routines. In how I structure my days. In the rhythms that keep me steady when everything else tries to pull me off balance.
One of the strongest anchors I’ve built is intermittent fasting, not as a diet, not as a trend, and not as punishment. It’s a metabolic rhythm that gives me stability. It creates long stretches of quiet inside the body — the kind of quiet where inflammation settles, glucose stops misbehaving, and the nervous system finally has room to breathe.
My weekly fasting schedule isn’t rigid. It’s adaptive. It matches the reality of my workouts, my long walking days, my social days, and the psychological pressure of cancer itself. Below is the structure that holds my week together.
Sunday: Social Eating and a Gentle 16:8 Fast
Sunday is the one day I let myself be fully human. I go out with friends and eat the kind of food that feels like home: roast beef, ham, broccoli, and every possible form of potato. This isn’t the place for a long fast. My goal here is digestion, enjoyment, and lowering the nervous system.
A simple 16:8 intermittent fasting window supports that. It gives my body time to break down the heavier meal while keeping the metabolic rhythm intact.
Monday: Workout Day and an 18:6 Fasting Window
Monday is a heavy output day — a full workout plus around twenty-five thousand steps, most of them fasted. This is not an autophagy day. The body is busy mobilizing energy, managing cortisol, and fueling movement.
I use 18:6 fasting on Mondays because it supports recovery instead of fighting it. Eating earlier calms my nervous system, stabilizes my blood pressure, and helps me sleep well. Intermittent fasting is not a battle; it’s a tool. Monday is about controlled effort, not starvation.
Tuesday: Long Walk Day and Stress-Aware Fasting (18:6)
I used to push 20:4 fasting on Tuesdays, believing more fasting meant better metabolic cleanup. But thirty thousand steps fasted doesn’t enhance autophagy — it suppresses it. High cortisol blocks the very cellular processes I was trying to support.
Switching Tuesday to 18:6 made everything smoother. Better glucose control. Better sleep. Better next-day recovery. Sometimes optimizing a fasting routine means doing less, not more.
Wednesday: The Deep Repair Day with a 20:4 Fast
Wednesday is where my intermittent fasting schedule reaches its deepest repair window. My step count drops to about seven thousand. My nervous system shifts out of the fight-or-flight response. The body finally stops bracing for whatever comes next.
That’s when 20:4 fasting actually works. Autophagy doesn’t happen when you’re rushing or walking thirty thousand steps. It happens in stillness. A relaxed day paired with a longer fast is where cellular cleanup, inflammation reduction, and metabolic reset finally take place. Wednesday is my reset point — the quiet center of the week.
Thursday: The Second Workout Day and an 18:6 Window
Thursday looks a lot like Monday. Gym session, long walk, nervous system activation, adrenaline, and stress hormones. It’s a performance day, not a repair day. 18:6 fasting helps rebalance everything after the workout, lowers cortisol, and keeps my sleep predictable.
Living with cancer means picking the fasting schedule that protects long-term energy, not the one that looks most extreme on paper.
Friday: Metabolic Reset with a 16:8 Fast
Friday sits between effort and recovery. It’s a moderate step day, sometimes sixteen thousand, sometimes more. I don’t push a long fast here because the goal is stability, not strain. A 16:8 fasting window supports glucose management, reduces nervous system load, and prepares me for the weekend.
It’s the exhale before everything picks up again.
Saturday: Social Walking and a 17:7 Window
Saturday is a photography day with friends. Cameras, conversation, long walks, lunch. It feels like the version of me that existed before Chapter Four and the version living inside it now, both showing up on the same day.
A 17:7 fasting window fits naturally with a midday meal. It respects both my metabolic needs and my social life, which are equally important for long-term health.
Why This Weekly Intermittent Fasting Schedule Works
Intermittent fasting only works when it matches your physiology. It must bend around cortisol, step volume, gym days, rest days, and the emotional weight of living with cancer. My schedule isn’t built to impress anyone. It’s built to keep me stable.
This rhythm gives me structure.
It gives me metabolic consistency.
It gives me enough space for repair without pushing my nervous system past capacity.
And most importantly, it gives me a sense of control inside Chapter Four — a chapter defined not only by what cancer does to my body, but by how I choose to respond.
This fasting routine doesn’t cure cancer.
But it helps me live inside the story with clarity, steadiness, and intent.
It holds the week together.
It holds me together.
And in this chapter, that matters more than anything.