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Getting Started With Keto

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Confession: I’m something of a nutrition nerd.

I find great joy in experimenting with different diets, macronutrient silliness, supplementation—primarily to see what effect is has on physical and cognitive performance. My friends frequently joke about all of the “dirt flavored” food I eat. Sometimes these experiments are successful, sometimes they’re a wash, and sometimes they’re a complete bust. Like that time I ate only tacos for a month.

I began studying ketogenic eating after years of hearing stories from friends—mostly endurance athletes and high-performing entrepreneurs—about their success using it to hit race weight, fuel through incredibly long events, and to boost brain function. A multi-year stint in CrossFit predating my running career had the concept of “fat-adaptation” on my radar, but it was something that most folks I had interacted with simply didn’t understand. I decided to double down and run my own experiment.

After 45 days of eating around 20 grams of carbs and 100 grams of fat per day, I had dropped twenty-five pounds of fat. My runs were getting faster, my brain was on fire, and I had more energy than I had in years. For the first time in my life, I was developing a visible six-pack.

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Me at the summit of Springer Mountain

Becoming a Nomad – The First Ninety Days

“The hardest thing in the world is to simplify your life. It’s so easy to make it complex. What’s important is leading an examined life.” — Yvon Chouinard, Founder of Patagonia — 180 South

Today marks ninety days since I made the decision to get rid of almost everything and embrace a nomadic lifestyle. It’s been an enlightening experience to say the least. Mostly in that–after more than two decades of intense focus on business and unchecked consumption–picking up and leaving it all behind has been a lot of work.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far.

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Me standing on the Imagine mural in Central Park.

Finding True Purpose Through Running

Pablo Picasso once observed, “The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.” In all fairness, there’s some debate about who actually said this, but the notion of Pablo sipping tea, hands stained with paint, waxing prophetic in Castellano feels romantic to me, so we’re going with that.

In any event, I’ve been thinking about purpose a lot lately.

Twenty eighteen was unquestionably the single most challenging orbit of my entire forty-three years. And it’s got some serious competition: emergency dental surgery when I was 2 years old; a 1985 cycling accident that nearly took my right arm and required two excruciating surgeries to fix; a massive overdose in 2007 that killed me for just over 3 minutes and left me in a coma, followed-up by a divorce in 2008 that sent me spiraling back into several more months of powdery, self-destructive depression. The list is longer than I care to admit.

The concept of bone fida true purpose didn’t exist in my universe until another round of addiction landed me back in the hospital–twice–and finally in-patient rehab in early 2018. Despite my deep affinity for learning, it’s apparently not always my strong suit.

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A dozen homemade biscuits in a box.

Eating Healthy on the Road

Crossfitters are fond of saying, “you can’t exercise your way out of a bad diet.” Regardless of what you might think about Crossfit, they’re right. Sure, you can work out enough to justify an absurd number of calories, but this still doesn’t make all those donuts you ate on the way to work healthy. In fact, all that sugar is probably wreaking havoc on your training. Not to mention your pancreas, brain, adrenals, abdominals, genitals, and wallet.

Intrepid travelers already know how tough it can be to eat healthy on the go. Air travel and hotels are like a black hole, junk food supergravity drawing you slowly into a singular abyss. Traveling light and border crossings make carrying food a logistical challenge, sometimes impossibility. Pair that with the lack of cooking options in most hotels, and it’s easy to go completely rogue. Even a cheapo butane camp stove and a styrofoam cooler are big luxuries when all you have is a motel-grade Keurig and a microwave.

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Laz coaxes runners at the start of the 2018 Barkley Fall Classic.

Hacking Motivation

A race director friend told me that the average ultra-distance trail runner stays in the sport for about four years. I’m not exactly sure where that number came from, but it seems reasonable. Injury, burn out, family commitment, work, loss of interest–we’re all at risk of losing that spark that helps push us to the finish.

For me, an injury last year spawned a cascade of events that completely destroyed my motivation, not just for running, but for life in general. It was a dark time, and it took more than a year for me to crawl back out of the hole that I’d dug for myself. I lost everything in the process, including my self-respect. I was totally defeated.

Breaking from stagnation has been one of the most difficult challenges I’ve had to tackle. That experience led me to start researching the science behind motivation. There’s quite a bit of psychology at work here, but the good news is that once you understand it, you can start stacking the deck in your favor.

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A bunch of sticky notes on a wall around a sign asking about thankfullness.

Why I Became a Nomad

About six months ago, I started renovating my house in Atlanta. Groundbreaking was the culmination of years of daydreaming about becoming a fat-cat real-estate investor, and I’d spent the previous six months or so doing legitimate research and running the numbers. I had a high level of confidence that–once up and running–my quaint new AirBNB would generate just enough revenue to allow me to finally cut the cord and hit the road nearly full-time. All I needed was about $75,000 and another six months to finish all the work.

Problem. I didn’t have $75,000, and my credit score–while not completely in the toilet–was low enough to invite more than a casual chuckle from bankers. During the ensuing six months I would most certainly die from starvation, since my recent year of “soul searching” hadn’t been paying very well and I’d blown through most of my savings. So, naturally, I did what any other rational person would do–I got out the wrecking bar and started tearing down the walls of my 100 year old kitchen. What could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot, it turns out.

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