02.18.2025

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The Messenger

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I didn’t need a lecture. The photograph was enough to make me look. A few weeks later, while visiting my mother on vacation, she commented on my weight gain. Other people remarked on how well I seemed to be living. They weren’t entirely wrong. I had become comfortable with excess, and somewhere along the way, looking after myself had stopped being a priority.

I had lost touch with the active warrior I once knew.

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During that trip, I noticed a Thai massage salon. I wasn’t looking for a life-changing experience. I wanted to relax, find some relief from the pain in my leg, and experience a little human care without expectations.

So I decided to give it a try.

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The treatment combined traditional Thai bodywork, stretching, and deep-tissue Ashiatsu techniques, finishing with a relaxing oil massage. The 120-minute session cost around thirty dollars, or thirty-five with a tip. The experience was unlike anything I had expected. I left feeling lighter and completely relaxed, and I returned for another session.

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During my next session, the practitioner discovered a knot in my thigh that seemed to be connected to the pain and occasional numbness I had been experiencing down my leg. She called in the salon’s owner, an older Thai woman, to examine it. I couldn’t understand their conversation, but it soon became clear that the younger practitioner was learning from her. 

The older woman pressed her thumb carefully into the affected area. With her other hand, she held my ankle, worked beneath the ankle bone, and positioned her fingers behind my calf. Then, with a controlled, almost effortless movement, she gently rotated my leg.

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There was no dramatic struggle or unbearable pain. Instead, I felt something release. The knot I had carried for so long seemed to give way, and the discomfort that had become part of my everyday life was suddenly gone. The owner performed a wai, a traditional Thai gesture of respect, and quietly left the room. 

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The younger practitioner explained the body's energy pathways and how they related, in her understanding, to the stress and emotional weight we carry. She also spoke about the importance of the small choices we make to care for ourselves.

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That night, I lay awake thinking about my life. I repeatedly pulled and rotated my leg, testing whether the knot or the discomfort would return. Neither seemed to. My leg felt free, and I could move without the familiar discomfort.

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But the physical relief was only part of the experience. Something about that encounter had reached beyond the pain in my leg. I found myself thinking about how easily I had neglected my own well-being and how far I had drifted from the person I once was.

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I couldn't fully explain what had happened inside me that day. I only knew that I felt lighter, more alert, and ready for action. For the first time in a long while, I felt a genuine determination to take back my life.

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...and there I was—the warrior I once knew, ready for action, driven by fire and excitement.

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The next day, I cut the crap. (03/18/2025) I cut out chocolate, sweets, and processed sugar, bread and all breaded stuff. The cravings were difficult at first. I used fresh cucumbers to manage cravings. It worked.

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I returned to the salon and asked the older lady where to begin. She suggested starting simply: fresh ginger tea, more vegetables and fish, and a different approach to eating. I didn't have a master plan, a team of experts, or a complicated program to follow.

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I only had the determination to call my demons to the battlefield and challenge the greatest enemy I had ever faced: myself...

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So the journey began. No promises, just action. Now or never. No waiting for the perfect moment, the end of my vacation, or any other excuses that might have derailed my plan. A decision to start taking care of the person I already was.

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First Steps on the Road

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The first steps were straightforward. Waking up early every morning, walking to aim for and complete 10,000 steps before getting ready for work. After the walk, crushing ginger root, adding water, and putting it on the stove to boil while taking a shower. I drank my coffee black, but I had been doing that for years already.

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I started with a simple diet, focusing on vegetables, eggs, fruit, and fish. I knew I would eventually need to build a sustainable way of eating, not simply follow a short-term restriction, but first I wanted to strip everything back to the bone.

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After the first three months, when I had focused on cleaning out my cells and giving my body a chance to recover from years of poor nutritional choices, I knew it was time to rebuild my strength.

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I started researching lean protein sources, particularly those containing minimal saturated fat. I wanted to understand what I was putting into my body and choose foods that would support my physical rebuilding without compromising the changes I had already made. Alongside fish and eggs, I gradually introduced wild rabbit, alligator, calamari, and wild duck into my diet. These were not random additions. They were deliberate choices based on my research into their nutritional profiles, protein content, and fat composition.

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Today, these foods have become the main building blocks of my diet, providing the protein I rely on to maintain and rebuild my strength.

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I became deliberate about the food I chose. I wanted ingredients I trusted, prepared at home, without a long list of additives, sauces, or unnecessary extras. Fish and fresh salads became regular meals. My salad dressing was fresh lemon juice, crushed ripe tomato, and black pepper. I returned to the basics of cooking. Salt and pepper were enough.

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There was no elaborate system. No magic ingredient, shortcuts, or magic pills that would give the illusion of improvement.

Just walking, breathing, preparing my own food, and repeating those decisions day after day. The road ahead was long, but I wasn't looking at the finish line. I wanted to experience the joy of the journey.

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Warrior In You.

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Changing my food was one part of the journey. Rebuilding my strength required another kind of commitment. I started developing a daily exercise routine and gradually challenged myself to do more. Push-ups, pull-ups, triceps extensions, curls, rows, hip mobility, and regular walking became part of my life. The numbers mattered less than the habit behind them. Every repetition was a small promise kept. There were days when the routine felt easy. There were other days when I had to negotiate with myself just to get started.

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Progress doesn't always come easy. Sometimes you challenge yourself and miss your goal, but that doesn't erase the effort you put into it. It may seem like a failure, but it's still progress. Reset and try again, and again. You start to notice that you're getting closer to your goal each time. You learn, adjust, and keep going.

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