At 63, I want to avoid going on statins for another year, so, in the interests of medical science, I agree to live on a restricted oat diet. So will the porridge diet kickstart an improvement? I start out quite chipper, but soon descend into a dark place…
My 48-hour oat cure
I have cholesterol and body composition tests at London’s Randox Clinic at 9am before I start my trial. Then I head home to tackle the oat cure.
Over the last few years, through an exercise and healthy eating regime, I have brought down my total cholesterol score from 6.7 mmol/l to 6.18 mmol/l, but ideally it should be below 5 mmol/l. My LDL also needs attention at 3.76 mmol/l (the optimal level is 2.0 mmol/l). Dispiritingly, after my recent enthusiastic exercise regime, my metabolic age (the number of calories your body is capable of burning while at rest, and how that compares with others of your chronological age) is only a year younger, at 62. I’d hoped, with all the weights I’ve been lifting, to have the body composition of a 20-year-old.
Day one
Normally I eat the Co-op’s own-label oats for breakfast, along with nuts, seeds, sultanas and a generous dollop of Greek yogurt. But for my 48-hour marathon, I invest in posh organic Mighty Oats (£2.50 for 1kg). I’d worried 100g might not be enough for a meal, but it’s a very generous portion (which I’ll come to regret). After heating them for five minutes, I remove the porridge from the heat and leave it to stand for 10 minutes until the mixture thickens to a creamy consistency.
But oh dear, this porridge recipe is very different. Bland, lukewarm. Even adding half a small chopped pear (60g) can’t lift it. After half a bowl, I nearly quit. It’s strange to leave the table feeling full but so unsatisfied.
In between meals, the Germans want me to drink two litres of water a day (no doubt to flush the vile concoction out). Tea and coffee are allowed, but no more than three or four cups (preferably without milk).
At 3pm, it’s time for my next porridge infusion. There’s no way I can eat it sweet, so I shred 30g of leeks into the mix. Normally I love pimping up my meals with spices, but even adding lashings of chilli (chilli porridge – even Heston wouldn’t serve this!) makes little difference to the gloop. A squeeze of lemon helps, but I still feel nauseous.