The Path is Too Deep

Not all fat is created equal. The fat on your arms or thighs? That’s annoying. It jiggles, it ruins the fit of your clothes, and it bruises your ego. But the fat deep inside your belly? That is an assassin. It doesn't just sit there; it is plotting against you. Most people view body fat as inert cargo—passive energy storage for a famine that never comes. We think of it like a backpack of butter we’re forced to carry around. If that were true, being overweight would simply be a mechanical burden on your knees and skeletal system. But that is a lie. To understand metabolic risk, you must distinguish between the two primary adipose depots: Subcutaneous Adipose Tissue (SAT): Located beneath the dermis. While distinct from a cosmetic standpoint, SAT acts as a metabolic "sink," safely storing excess triglycerides. Visceral Adipose Tissue (VAT): Located within the peritoneal cavity, packed between internal organs like the liver, pancreas, and intestines. The Portal Hypothesis:...

In video games, there is usually a clear "End Game." You defeat the final boss, the loot drops, the credits roll, and you put the controller down. You won. In diet culture, we are sold the same fantasy. We are told that if we just "hit our goal weight" - that magical number on the scale - we have crossed the finish line. We imagine a ticker-tape parade where we are handed a trophy that says "Thin Person," and then we go back to "normal." I am here to tell you, from painful, personal experience: There is no finish line. I have "won" the weight loss game before. I lost 190 pounds . I hit the number. I bought the new wardrobe. And then, slowly, silently, and catastrophically, I gained it all back plus interest. Why? Because I treated my health like a project with a deadline, instead of a business with ongoing operations. I thought I was "done." As I rebuild my body at 53, I am not training for a finish line. I am training for the...

If you know me, you know that when I’m not auditing compliance data or salting a steak, I’m probably rolling dice. I’ve been a gamer my whole life. In the world of MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games) like World of Warcraft , there are two distinct types of content: The Raid Boss: The massive, terrifying dragon at the end of the dungeon. It takes hours to kill, requires perfect strategy, and if you aren't ready, it wipes a party of adventurers out in seconds. The Daily Quests: The small, repetitive, unglamorous chores you do every single day. Collect 10 herbs. Deliver this letter. Kill 6 spiders. For years, I treated my weight loss like a Raid Boss . I looked at the number "380 pounds" and saw it as a singular, insurmountable enemy with a massive health bar. I tried to "DPS" (Damage Per Second) it down with crash diets, extreme cardio, and sheer willpower. I tried to beat the game in a week. And every single time, the Boss wiped me. I bur...

A reader recently asked me for the specifics of my exercise routine. I talk a lot about walking and rucking ( def. combining cardio and strength training by making a regular walk more challenging, improving endurance, burning more calories, and building functional strength in your legs, core, and back), but for the last few months, I have also been quietly building a "strength stack" in my apartment bedroom. When I started this journey at 400+ pounds, traditional gym advice didn't apply. Jumping jacks would have destroyed my knees. Bench pressing was a logistical nightmare. I needed a system that respected the physics of my situation. At my starting weight, I wasn't starting from zero; I was starting in "Hard Mode" . Every movement was a heavily weighted movement . A single push-up wasn't just a push-up; it was a 300-pound bench press . So, I turned to Calisthenics (bodyweight training). But I didn't start by trying to be a ninja. I started by mast...

If you live in Atlantic Canada, you know that from November to April, the weather is essentially a personal attack. It’s damp, it’s windy, and it cuts right through you. The natural human instinct is to hide. We crank the thermostat to 22°C (72°F). We start our cars ten minutes early to warm the seats. We bundle up in Gore-Tex armor just to walk to the mailbox. We are addicted to thermal comfort. But as I’ve rebuilt my metabolic engine over the last few months, I’ve started doing something that makes my friends look at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’ve stopped hiding from the cold. In fact, I’m actively seeking it out. I don't do it because I’m tough (I’m not). I do it because I’m an optimizer. I’ve learned that cold is not just a weather condition; it is a powerful metabolic switch that turns my body from a storage unit into a furnace. Here is the science of Hormesis and why I’ve learned to embrace the chill. Part 1: The "Good" Fat (Brown vs. White) To understand why I wa...

There is a specific anxiety that comes with hosting a dinner party when you are on a strict health protocol. You worry about becoming "The Diet Guy." You know the stereotype: The host who serves zucchini noodles that taste like wet paper, lectures the guests about the dangers of gluten, and serves a "chocolate mousse" made of avocados that makes everyone sad. I refuse to be that guy. Hospitality is about making people feel cared for, not restricted. But I also refuse to derail my own health or serve my friends inflammatory garbage just to be polite. So, I have learned the art of the "Trojan Roast." It is a strategy of serving a meal so delicious, so rich, and so satisfying that nobody at the table even realizes they are eating "Clean Keto" until they are driving home. Here is an example of how to host a dinner party without announcing you’re on a diet. Part 1: The Philosophy (Real Food needs no Label) The biggest mistake people make is trying to...