Physician, heal thyself.

Now that everyone knows I’m a weenie when it comes to fasting, I can sit back and analyze the data from my recent (dramatic) blood draw. All my life I’ve had trouble with low HDL and (very) high triglycrides, then flipping those numbers in clumsy attempts to right the situation. With disastrous results, I might add. Statins led to head pain which led to pain killers, which led to…, well, that’s another story.

A few years ago, my doc didn’t want me to leave the building. This time, at 72, I knocked it out of the park. This time, I used the knowledge I gained as a personal trainer and a nutrition certification to save my own bacon. Bacon’s probably not a good analogy.

This time, my efforts were deliberate and intentional. I now know, first hand, what works and what doesn’t. I’ve witnessed the changes in my body, my energy levels and more importantly, my confidence. Which are all inextricably tied, in my opinion.  My thinking was, as a personal trainer, if I’m going to fix someone, I should know how to fix myself.

I am on a grand total of zero medications. No heart, no blood pressure, no Flomax, and more importantly, no sleep medications. My pharmacist wants to know if it’s something he said.  🙂

On August 18, 2016, a Sunday, I surrendered my bloated, defeated, addicted carcass to the VA in Bedford Ma, to see if there was anything left to salvage. Seems there was. As my mother used to say, ” A pat on the back is a good thing, as long as it’s low enough and hard enough.” As usual, Nora was right…..

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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