I’m going to publish my observations about dieting for cancer, which I’ll finalize after my last chemo round and PET scan. I think it’s important because, what I’m observing, is that what I’m doing is quite a bit different than everything I’ve found in my pre-chemo research, and it’s working like a charm. It’s going to take a few posts to present this information, beginning with my background and evolving into the gist of the story. In order to make the most informed decision you can, I hope you’ll read it before adapting to my protocols. There’s a possibility my observations are wrong, inaccurate, or won’t work for you. They are working “amazing” according to the doctors, nurses, PAs, and assorted staff who advise me. They think I should pass it on. So be it. Here are the details, part I.
Because I am in no way a cancer expert or clinical dietician, and I don’t like doling out “expert” advice if I don’t feel I’m qualified. The background I will provide might be overkill but I think that’s important. I know, this is weird in the Internet world where everyone claims to be an expert, and I do have an argument to stand on with my resume, but I don’t like that model. So I’m writing down my history with diet, exercise, supplementation and drugs. That way you can, at least, make an educated guess as to whether or not this bears any merit to you personally. I do have a vast, and unique, history with nutrition but my cancer experience is limited to three months. I’m a huge believe that advice steeped in history and experience is very hard to beat. My case is interesting, but perhaps not what you want or should be attempting.
I’ve never recorded most of this. It may be clunky. I’m doing it now because cancer is a roll of the dice with your life. Please take advice with much introspection and skepticism. There are a lot of bullshitters out their perfectly willing to tell you what to do that only want to make money for themselves. This curriculum vitae, if you will, is going to be much longer than the personal observation (I won’t call it advice) that I’ll provide at the end. If you would consider following it, spend a few minutes brushing up on the person you are allowing to mentor you, as failure to do so can lead to embarrassing situations or, in the case of cancer, probably worse.
I like to use humor, so my advice can be obtuse. So be it. Laughter is underrated as a fitness therapy tool (I have a “degree” in this, too, so trust me and don’t be afraid to laugh).
As I pointed out I am not a clinical dietician. I have very little experience with chronic illness and none in a hospital settings. I have not studied this field in school and, until recently, only researched it when I had a client requested info (thus thyroid issues are probably make up most of my experience). Cancer research was nearly zero until I was diagnosed. I always passed off those individuals to others with more experience.
I am a very experienced Performance Nutritionist. I have a “degree” that says so but, more or less, I ended up tutoring that certification to others in the class, as there was nothing to learn from it, as has pretty much been the case in every CERT I’ve done (oh, and everyone now calls CERTS degrees, and that’s a joke and, shoot, to some degrees even degrees can be but I’m getting ahead of myself). Anyway, I’ve spent my life embroiled in this field, often to extreme measures (almost dying as the only test subject I could find being myself on almost uncountable protocols). I know a ton about how to get the most out of your body when it comes to athletic performance and changing body composition. I’ve technically overseen millions of clients (due to Beachbody but still thousands of individual interactions) from World Champions to people who’ve lost hundreds of pounds and know this stuff better than the back of my hand (which I don’t actually know too well, do you?)
Still my favorite client – Gin lost over a hundred pounds but still had major health issues. Her dream of running a marathon was squelched by doctors and everyone else she asked for help, who thought she should just be happy to be off of death’s door. Nothing spurs me to action like telling someone they can’t do something, so I took her on. This is the medal from her first marathon. I asked her not to send it but value it far more than anything I’ve ever done. She now coaches others at not only running but multi-sports. She runs marathons for breakfast. I’m her biggest fan.
I don’t know or understand drugs particular well. I’ve been around steroid users most of my life (and wrote a thesis on them), but have never done them. I have academic friend who continually dabble in PED stuff but I pretty much stay out of it. I enjoy the template of natural human pathways. I’ve been forced to work with a lot of over-prescribed drug users as a trainer (so I know a lot about helping people get off them) but I’ve never taken it upon myself to be a drug expert. I’ve taken a hundred times more drugs since I started chemo than in my life up to that point. I’m learning fast, and it’s much simpler than I imagined, but never confuse me with a real expert in this field.
I have first hand experience on almost every diet, supplement, fasting regimen and training protocol you’ve probably ever read about. This has been my life’s one MO and probably what sets me apart from any trainer/nutritionist you’ve ever met or heard of. I’ve gained over 40 pounds of muscle in a few months. I’ve lost it just as quickly by for a different goal. I’ve completely re-shaped my body for various sports. I’ve competed at a high level in power, endurance, and skill sports across a broad spectrum (domains, as Crossfitters would say). I’ve fasted for weeks, often roaming in nature for spiritual enlightenment. I’ve made my own supplements and tried them on myself. I’ve lived on nothing but supplements. Most of these were experiences that my friends and parents (when they got wind of it) have thought was nothing but bizarre behavior, often bordering on suicidal. They have a point. If somebody tells me that something can’t be done, you might as well be signing me up to find out. That is not necessary a way to live a long life, but I’ve never considered mortality an issue. I’ve always treated life more like a seasonal occupation than a career. Make of that what you will.
How important it actually is can be debated, and has amongst some groups, but it makes it very hard to ask me a question where I don’t have an answer based on some experience. This has been hugely helpful as the person tasked to oversee fitness and nutrition development for a company that serves to advise every possible demographic. We get results. Very effectively, quickly, efficiently, and those results always stick for those who stay on as regular customers (and now coaches–ah. more mentoring). Anyway, I’ve come up with a model that works very well, so it’s pretty hard to argue with. As everyone who knows my life asks me, “how did you manage to turn your life’s obsession into the perfect job?” Just lucky I guess.
But, one last time for authority, I am not a cancer expert!
Next post will go into my long and convoluted history. It’s hardly traditional, and likely nothing like what you’ve seen before in a trainer (though trainers tend to be very passionate and often have very cool personal stories.) Mine probably isn’t cool. More like “what was he thinking and why would he choose that path? Whatever you think of it, there’s a ton of variety and experience, so dishing out cancer advice, where I don’t have much, makes it the time to share it. I’ll post it soon.