
The most effective way to use fasting to lose weight
The analysis found that restricting calories by fasting on alternate days was more effective than a continuous diet reducing intake every day.
The review of data from 99 separate studies involving more than 6,500 people found that on average, those fasting every other day lost 1.29kg more than those dieting each day.
Alternate day fasting involves a 24-hour fast on alternate days and has become more popular in recent years.
Other intermittent fasting approaches to dieting have also grown in popularity, including time restricted eating, where people only eat for a certain number of hours in the day, such at the 16:8 diet involving a 16-hour fasting period followed by an eight-hour eating; and whole day fasting, which includes the 5:2 diet involving five days of eating and two days of fasting periods.
Researchers from Scotland, the US, Canada and Germany wanted to compare fasting methods to continuous energy restriction diets by looking at all of the available evidence.
People involved in the studies had an average body mass index (BMI) of 31 and almost nine in 10 (89 per cent) had pre-existing health conditions.
The research team found that both intermittent fasting diets and calorie restricted diets led to weight loss.
But compared with continuous energy restriction, alternate day fasting was the only strategy to show benefit in body weight reduction, with people on this diet losing 1.29kg more.
The authors said that alternate day fasting showed a 'trivial' reduction in body weight compared with both time restricted eating and whole day fasting.
'Minor differences were noted between some intermittent fasting diets and continuous energy restriction, with some benefit for an alternate day fasting strategy with weight loss in shorter duration trials,' the authors wrote.
'All intermittent fasting strategies and continuous energy restriction diets showed a reduction in body weight when compared with an ad-libitum diet
'Of three intermittent fasting diets, alternate day fasting showed benefit in body weight reduction compared with continuous energy restriction,' they said.
Naveed Sattar, a professor of cardio-metabolic medicine at the University of Glasgow, and who was not involved in the study, said the findings were not surprising 'as there is nothing magical about intermittent fasting for weight loss beyond being another way for people to keep their total calorie intake lower than it would be otherwise'.
'It becomes another lifestyle option for weight management,' he said.
'Whether it is sustainable over the longer term is worth to examine, whereas for those who need to lose much more weight, other options are now clearly available.'
Almost one in three adults in the UK are obese while a further third are considered overweight.
Last week, Prof Sir Stephen Powis, the NHS's top doctor, said that weight-loss jabs such as Wegovy and Mounjaro could be as transformative as statins.
From later this month, GPs in England will be allowed to prescribe Mounjaro, also known as tirzepatide, for the first time.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Telegraph
23 minutes ago
- Telegraph
Fat jab price rise could fuel surge in dangerous fakes
Experts have warned people against trying to beat the Mounjaro price rise by turning to black market weight-loss jabs. Dealers are importing the copycat drugs from Chinese labs and selling them on social media and in beauty salons. Drug crime specialists expect a rise in the number of illicit sales in the wake of 170 per cent price rises due to Donald Trump's tariffs, designed to make medications cheaper for Americans. Steroid dealers have reacted to the cost of private weight-loss injections and NHS supply bottlenecks by turning to the black market. Chinese laboratories can imitate the real drugs and sell them online for as little as £1.50 a vial, with dealers buying them in bulk and selling them on for profit. Mounjaro, the weight-loss medication made by Eli Lilly, has increased in price to as much as £330 for a month's supply. The US-based company's product is the most effective injection on the market. Dr Luke Turnock, a criminologist at the University of Lincoln who specialises in the sale of enhancement drugs, warned that this would see many people turn to imported imitations sold cheaply online. 'I would definitely expect the price rise to lead to more people looking to the illicit market,' he told The Telegraph. 'If you're paying £330 for a prescription and you see something advertised for £110, then you would think it would be stupid to keep going and getting this private prescription.' A study by Dr Turnock found that one company allegedly sells replicas of both semaglutide and tirzepatide, known commercially as Wegovy and Mounjaro, made by Novo Nordisk and Eli Lilly, respectively. But with these drugs now regulated in the UK it is technically a crime to sell them and as a result the number of fake versions available online has diminished. Next-generation weight-loss jab However, the laboratories have pivoted to selling imitation retatrutide, a next-generation weight-loss jab still in clinical trials. Also made by Eli Lilly, retatrutide could be Mounjaro's big brother and is potentially the most powerful weight-loss drug yet as a result of its triple-threat mechanism, which targets three pathways in the body. Ozempic – a drug for type 2 diabetes – works on just one, and Mounjaro only hits two of the three. Online marketing shows retatrutide to be the most effective fat injection, but it is not yet proven safe or effective. Early clinical trial data suggest it is also able to speed up how much fat a person's body burns as well as suppressing appetite and slowing down stomach emptying. But the drug is as yet unauthorised and unregulated and this provides a loophole for the Chinese laboratories who can sell their product under the guise of a 'research chemical'.


Daily Mail
23 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
Harvard prof says Earth-bound comet could be 'hostile' alien spacecraft sent to spy on our solar system
A Harvard professor has suggested a 'hostile' alien spaceship is hurtling its way towards Earth - and it could be an extraterrestrial spy. And if the object - known as 31/ATLAS and believed by most astronomers to be a comet - does land among us it will be 'a blind date of astronomical proportions,' Avi Loeb says. In a study paper, he and his fellow researchers suggest the object's size, trajectory and behavior - when taken together - suggest an unknown intelligence is steering it our way. NASA first spotted the object, traveling through our solar system at 37 miles a second, in early July and most experts expect it to come nowhere near Earth. But Loeb, a professor of astrophysics, and his associates – Adam Crowl and Adam Hibberd of the London-based Initiative for Interstellar Studies – advance a detailed theory about who or what this intergalactic visitor might be. They speculate that, far from being a comet, the object could instead be a sprawling mothership from a distant planet, armed with technology vastly more advanced than ours. Loeb and his associates have identified eight anomalies about 3I/ATLAS to support their outlandish theory. Each individual anomaly is statistically rare, they insist, and so taken together they strongly suggest that some as-yet-unknown intelligence is steering the object towards us. 'An encounter with an interstellar, alien technology is a blind date of astronomical proportions,' Loeb told the Daily Mail. 'You don't know what you will meet, because our imagination is limited to our experience on Earth.' He argues that the plots of science fiction films are 'pretty much tailored to fit the narrative of what we are doing here on Earth and just expanding [on it]'. That is, most of us have no conception of what a really advanced civilization might look like. Expecting present-day humans to comprehend the sort of technology aliens would have developed in order to reach us is 'like asking a caveman to imagine an iPhone,' says Loeb. He has suggested sending a message using radio waves to the object: 'Hello, welcome to our neighborhood. Peace!' However, he also acknowledged the risks of this, noting that any intelligent life might see the signal as a threat. Most of Loeb's professional peers have determined that 3I/ATLAS will turn out to be a comet. They believe it has been drifting through space for billions of years, accelerating thanks to the gravitational 'catapult effect' of the countless stars it has passed. Its current speed of 130,000mph makes it the fastest comet ever recorded, says NASA. Predictably, some of Loeb's fellow astronomers are peeved that he is, as they see it, letting the side down by venturing into science fiction. Oxford University astronomer Chris Lintott says he's spouting 'nonsense on stilts.' And Loeb, it has to be said, has been urging the world to keep an open mind about extraterrestrials for some time. An expert on black holes, he has spent years searching for signs of alien life and, in 2021, founded the international 'Galileo Project' to focus on this area. Two years later, he led an expedition to a site on the bed of the Pacific Ocean where a meteor was believed to have come to rest, claiming the remains his team discovered could have come from an extraterrestrial spacecraft. NASA, whose telescope in Chile first spotted 3I/ATLAS on July 1, says the object should remain visible to ground-based telescopes in September but will then pass behind the sun. It is expected to reappear by early December. So what are the anomalies about 3I/ATLAS that have so alarmed Professor Loeb? The first relates to its lack of 'tail.' Comets are propelled through space by gravity and solar radiation. The latter turns the comet's surface ice into gas, which – together with the dust it carries – creates a visible tail. Loeb said he was 'puzzled' that the object has undergone 'significant non-gravitational acceleration' without apparently having any such tail. He was also disturbed by its unusual 'retrograde' orbit around the sun (in other words, it's moving against the flow of the solar system). This, he argues, could be a 'defensive maneuver' by its alien pilots to make it harder for their craft to be intercepted by rockets fired from Earth. 3I/ATLAS's trajectory also means it will pass relatively close to Venus, Mars and Jupiter – again statistically unlikely but, he notes, affording it the perfect opportunity to snoop at the other planets in our solar system, like some sort of extraterrestrial spy. He points out that 3I/ATLAS will achieve 'perihelion' – reaching its closest point to the sun – on the opposite side of the sun relative to Earth. This, says Loeb, 'could be intentional to avoid detailed observations from Earth-based telescopes.' It would also, he warns, allow it to launch 'probes' or other 'gadgets' in secret to invade or infiltrate – or even change direction and visit our planet itself, arriving with little warning as early as late November. Some critics, while agreeing with him that scientists should be less dismissive of ET research, accuse Loeb of cherry-picking data to suit his argument. In the past few days, NASA has revealed an image taken by the Hubble Space Telescope which it hailed as the 'sharpest-ever picture' of 3I/ATLAS. The image remains blurred (hardly surprising given it shows something 277 million miles away) but NASA claims it suggests the object is a comet because it appears to show a 'teardrop-shaped cocoon of dust coming off its solid, icy nucleus.' But Loeb is adamant there is still no evidence the object has the tail of dust thrown off by comets. The jury's still out, he insists. So, if – and, yes, this is a big if – 3I/ATLAS does turn out to be an alien spacecraft, is there anything we could do? In the short term, Loeb and his co-authors have suggested using NASA's unmanned Juno spacecraft, currently in orbit around Jupiter, to photograph the object. But Juno may not have enough fuel left for such a mission. In the long term, Loeb argues, we should treat all interstellar objects entering the solar system as potentially the creation of aliens. He believes governments should co-ordinate through an international body. 'We talk about the existential risks from artificial intelligence, from climate change, from an asteroid impact, but there's no discussion about the risk from alien technology,' he told the Daily Mail. He'd like to see governments form 'task forces' to determine how to respond if and when alien intelligence is finally detected, and how to break the news to the public without triggering panic. Of course, the public reaction may depend on whether the visitors wish us well or ill. 'In the first case, humanity needs only to wait and welcome this interstellar messenger with open arms,' says Loeb. 'It is the second scenario that causes serious concern.' Loeb says we'll get a much better indication of what exactly 3I/ATLAS is when it can be seen – possibly as early as later this month – by the James Webb Space Telescope. The telescope, which is now a million miles from us, will be able to view the object in infra-red, allowing it to analyze the sunlight reflected from it and determine precisely what it is. It's easy to be cynical about ET hunters like Loeb and he concedes he is expecting to be wrong. But with all his expertise, one has to consider the daunting question: What if he's right?


Telegraph
an hour ago
- Telegraph
How fat-shaming show Biggest Loser ruined lives
What I remember is the anguish. Contestants from The Biggest Loser, perhaps America's most repulsive reality TV show, were often very sick. The Biggest Loser, which ran from 2004 to 2016 on NBC and saw overweight contestants compete to lose the most weight for a $250,000 cash prize, made them sicker. Now some of these contestants have been interviewed for a new and gruesome three-part post mortem for Netflix called Fit For TV: The Reality of the Biggest Loser. Psychotherapists would call it re-traumatisation. It began, says Biggest Loser's co-creator David Broome, when he went to the gym one day. Broome has the expressionless face of a man who cannot be emotionally touched. Paddy Chayefsky, who wrote the film Network (1976) which foretold reality TV ('Suicide of the Week, Execution of the Week, The Death Hour!') would know Broome as an authentic television villain. The sign at the gym, Broome says, read 'Help needed. Please help save my life. Obese person seeking trainer'. He then remembered that America is filled with the unhappy and obese, and that they rarely see themselves on TV. He invited them to apply to be The Biggest Loser. Broome did help: he helped himself. He co-invented a show that made hundreds of millions for NBC, made him rich, and arguably damaged the metabolism and mental health of those unlucky enough to appear on it. The contestants were chosen, isolated from their families at a 'ranch', and placed on a punishing regime: hours of gym each day; humiliating stunts involving food and 'fitness'; and suggested calorie intakes (1,500 for men; 1,200 for women. Most ate far less than that when they realised it would help them win. One man ate 800 calories a day and burnt 6,000 calories in the gym). Contestants have reported that their periods stopped; their hair fell out; they had problems with movement afterwards; they often couldn't sleep. (Others, though, still maintain that the show helped them.) Each week they were weighed in front of a live audience, who whooped and howled; the failures – those who had lost the least weight – were sent home. It couldn't happen today, now Ozempic is available and, watching it now, the show is a tableau of every piece of bullying I saw in the schoolyard, and worse. Fit for TV uses gruesome archive footage. Contestants are screamed at in gyms and placed on obstacle courses which appear to have been designed to make them look ridiculous. There are exculpatory interviews with Bob Harper, the show's co-trainer; Robert Huizenga, its doctor, who offers well-dressed contrition; and multiple contestants who, almost without exception, act like they have been in a war. Huizenga now says he didn't approve all the challenges the contestants faced. Harper says they knew it was diet that mattered for weight loss, 'but that becomes boring television. You know what's not boring television? To see us in a gym, yelling, screaming'. Even the contestants seem to understand that obesity is mostly a psychological problem that cannot be fixed by going on television. 'When you have something traumatic in your life,' says one, 'it doesn't go away.' Danny Cahill, the gentle, still-bewildered winner of season eight (he lost 239lb, or 17½st), says of his eating disorder, 'I lived it every day. I was missing life.' Like most of the contestants, he is larger than ever, because obesity is a psychological problem triggered by trauma and self-hatred, which The Biggest Loser compounded, not solved. As the series wound on, medical professionals questioned whether the 'regime' damaged the contestants' metabolic systems. The only things Cahill really lost were his privacy and his pride. The producers wanted exhibitionists of a particular type. It wasn't fat they needed – or not fat by itself – it was pain and ability to express it. Once successful – if we can call it that – they were not allowed to show the contracts they had to sign to a lawyer; or, rather, they were, but it was strongly hinted they would lose their place on the show if they did. Thus disarmed, they were fed into television. It is apt. It was not enough, as respectable doctors advise, to lose 2lb a week with moderate diet and exercise – not to win The Biggest Loser, which at its peak occupied the same studio as the talent show American Idol. The weighing scales, the producers admit, were the real protagonist of the show. Contestants might lose a stone or more in a week, and this was revealed to the screams of the crowd. This was achieved by over-exercise – 'I'm going to take your legs and beat you with them,' one trainer screamed – and, the contestants now say, by self-starvation and depriving themselves of water before the weighing in. One contestant – Ryan Benson, the winner of season one – said he lived on lemon juice for the last 10 days of the show and was so dehydrated he was urinating blood as he appeared on the valedictory talk shows. There is a long segment about Tracey Yukich, also of season eight, collapsing during her first trial, which was to run a mile along a beach. She was evacuated by helicopter. 'No one could have expected that anything like that was going to happen,' a producer says, in mitigation. Really? A disclaimer was aired on screen at the end of every show: 'Consult with your own doctor before embarking on any diet or exercise programme.' All contestants were required to sign a waiver. Yukich now says she thinks she died that day. JD Roth, an executive producer, says the show existed to help people. But this was spin – as the 'temptation challenge' laid bare. The contestants were taken to a room filled with the kind of food – or non-food – they would ordinarily binge on, and invited to eat it. If they ate enough of it, they might win a prize: getting to see their children, for instance. It was coercive bingeing for people who were already ill. When Roth tells us, 'I can't say that 100 per cent of the temptations we got right, but I can say that life is full of temptations,' I want to punch him. The contestants were vulnerable people, but were made to pass doughnuts from mouth to mouth – it's kissing with baked goods – or sing songs about obesity, or were screamed at for vomiting on the treadmill. A woman was weighed on TV. She was 476lb, or 34st. She wept, because she needed a support group, not primetime, which is the opposite. Suzanne Mendonca of season two, a police officer, said the show gave her an eating disorder, and made her a mockery among her colleagues. 'I stopped eating,' she said, of her time after the show, and regained the weight just the same. The nadir was in 2014, when season 15 winner Rachel Frederickson, a former competitive swimmer, walked out to her $250,000 prize money looking dangerously thin: she began at 260lb (18½st) and ended at 105lb (7½st). Even the trainers looked appalled at her appearance. The show went on, and the contestants got larger – how else do you entice the public to watch? It was a miracle that, as parodied in the drama series Unreal, backstage at a version of The Bachelor, no one died. Frederickson was the beginning of the end. In 2016, The New York Times reported that, 'A study of season eight's contestants has yielded surprising new discoveries about the physiology of obesity that help explain why so many people struggle unsuccessfully to keep off the weight they lose… As the years went by and the numbers on the scale climbed, the contestants' metabolisms did not recover… It was as if their bodies were intensifying their effort to pull the contestants back to their original weight.' Now, only when it is too late, we have contrition. Harper looks awkward before the camera now; Huizenga looks ashamed. Jillian Michaels, the co-trainer who wasn't interviewed for Fit For TV, was rebuked for recommending her contestants take caffeine pills, which is the least of the show's evils. The concept itself was dangerous, but reality TV is ever in search of a villain. Its cynicism was boundless. The cynicism goes on. Netflix is still happily airing The Ultimatum: Queer Love (couples on the verge of marriage commit or split) and Love is Blind (get engaged to someone on TV before you actually meet them). The Biggest Loser ended in 2016. The producers of Fit For TV have done to the producers of The Biggest Loser what they did to the contestants, and this is satisfying, but nothing more.