The Path is Too Deep

In my former life as IT Faculty and in my current role as a Manager of Quality and Compliance, I live by a simple maxim: "You cannot manage what you do not measure." If a server is running slow, I don't guess; I look at the logs. If a program isn't meeting standards, I don't go by "vibes"; I look at the KPIs (Key Performance Indicators). When I started this "System Restore" on my body at 53, I realized I had to treat my metabolism with the same analytical rigor I treat a government audit. For years, I relied on how I "felt" (which was usually "hungry") or how my pants fit (which was usually "tight"). That wasn't data; that was denial. Now, I run a "Quantified Self" protocol. I use technology to capture the data points my brain tries to ignore. But—and this is a massive "but"—there is a fine line between tracking and obsessing . One is useful; the other is a mental health trap. Here is the t...

In the world of keto, "Fibre" is the magic eraser. It is the variable in the equation that allows us to look at a label, do some quick math ( Total Carbs minus Fibre ), and decide if a food is safe. This "Net Carb" math relies on a simple biological premise: Fibre is indigestible. It passes through us without turning into glucose, so it doesn't count. But in my day job as a Manager of Quality and Compliance, I know that broad definitions are where the errors hide. If you eat a cup of broccoli, you are eating fibre. If you eat a "Keto-Certified" candy bar, you are also eating "fibre." But your body reacts to those two things very differently. One is a nutrient-dense whole food; the other is often an industrial chemistry experiment designed to hack the nutrition label. Here is the "Red Flag" audit on fibre, and why I don't trust every gram I see. Part 1: The "Good Guys" (Whole Food Fiber) When fibre comes wrapped in the ...

If you hang out in the low-carb corners of the internet long enough, the algorithm will eventually serve you a steak on a plate with absolutely nothing else. No broccoli. No avocado. Just meat, salt, and water. This is the Carnivore Diet (or, at an extreme, the " Lion Diet "). It is the ultimate elimination diet. Its proponents - many of whom are brilliant and incredibly healthy - argue that plants are full of "defense chemicals" (anti-nutrients) and that humans evolved to eat apex predators, not salads. Given that my daily OMAD is anchored by a 1.5 lb. ribeye, people often assume I’m one step away from going full Carnivore. But I haven't. And I won't. While I respect the Carnivore approach as a powerful therapeutic tool for autoimmune issues, it doesn't fit my clean keto lifestyle. My goal isn't just elimination ; it’s optimization . And for my specific goals - heart health, gut health, and sanity - I believe the right plants act as medicine, not p...

 Welcome to Post #50. In the blogging world, fifty posts is a milestone. It’s a modest body of work. If you’ve been reading since the beginning, you now know a lot about how I eat. You know about gluconeogenesis , mitochondrial biogenesis , and my disdain for soybean oil . You know the "what" and the "how" of my Clean Keto lifestyle. But I realized recently that I haven't spent enough time on the "why." The truth is, you don't end up weighing over 400 pounds because you simply like the taste of cake. You don't survive five heart attacks and keep struggling with food because you lack information. To understand why this " reboot " at 53 means everything to me, you have to understand the ghosts I’m leaving behind. The Armor For decades, I didn't just eat food; I ate my feelings. I carried a deep, simmering anger from my father leaving the family when I was young. I carried the constant, vibrating sense of being an "outsider...

In the tech world, there is a concept known as a "System Restore." When a computer becomes bogged down by years of accumulated junk files, corrupted registry entries, and conflicting software, you don't necessarily throw it in the trash. You roll it back. You strip away the bloatware. You wipe the cache. You return the operating system to a point where it actually functioned. I turned 53 this year. In our culture, 53 is often viewed as the beginning of the "End of Life" phase for the "hardware". We are told to expect the proverbial "Blue Screen of Death" at any moment. We are told that the "Dad Bod" is inevitable, that our metabolism has deprecated, and that we should just get comfortable in the recliner and wait for the obsolescence date. "It's too late," they say. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks." I am here to tell you that is a lie . 53 isn't the end of the user manual. It’s just time for a ...

Quick grammatical note: you'll notice my use of the word "fibre" over "fiber". My preference is simply for the King's English. Please bear with me. In my day job as a Manager of Program Quality, I deal with data. I know that if you feed bad data into a system, you get bad results. In the tech world, we call it "Garbage In, Garbage Out." In the world of keto, there is a piece of data that is corrupted, compressed, and often completely misleading. It’s the number bolded on the front of every protein bar and low-carb snack: "Net Carbs." The formula seems simple: Total Carbs minus Fibre minus Sugar Alcohols = Net Carbs. It’s a great algorithm. The logic is sound: fibre is indigestible, so it doesn't count as fuel. It passes through the system without "uploading" glucose to your bloodstream. But just like a fibre optic cable, the quality of the signal matters. And I’ve learned that when it comes to food labels, not all fibre is ...

When you decide to overhaul your lifestyle, there is a temptation to buy stuff . We think that if we just buy the expensive juicer, the 12-piece non-stick set, or the gadget that spirals zucchinis into perfect ribbons, the "health" will automatically follow. I call this the "Pay-to-Win" fallacy. In gaming, buying the best gear doesn't make you a better player if you don't know the mechanics. The same is true for the kitchen. As a single guy living in an apartment and eating One Meal a Day (OMAD), I don't have the space or the patience for clutter. I treat my kitchen like an armory. I don't need toys ; I need weapons . I need tools that are durable, precise, and serve the mission of getting a high-protein, nutrient-dense meal on the table in under 30 minutes. Here is the loadout for my Clean Keto kitchen. 1. The Heavy Artillery: A Cast Iron Skillet If I could only have one pan for the rest of my life, this would be it. The Problem with Non-Stick: Tho...