Alcohol

A week ago, after more than two years without alcohol, I had a rather large glass of red wine. The reaction was startling. It felt like a wrecking ball had hit my system. I was reminded just how profoundly alcohol can affect the body when you haven't consumed it for a long time.

It got me thinking about people who drink regularly, even daily. Over time, they develop a tolerance to alcohol, and the obvious physical reaction becomes less noticeable. They may no longer feel the same shock, discomfort, or impairment from a drink. But the absence of those warning signals doesn't mean the alcohol has become less harmful to the body—or to the liver. In some ways, that tolerance seems almost sinister because it can mask what is actually happening.

I remember cigarettes being much the same way. The first time you smoke, the experience can be awful. You cough, choke on the smoke, feel dizzy or nauseated, and your body seems to be screaming, “What are you doing to me?” But smoke becomes familiar. Eventually, the coughing and nausea may disappear, and the smoker no longer feels that same immediate rejection.

Yet the damage hasn't disappeared. The body has simply adapted to the exposure.

That makes me wonder whether the initial reaction to both alcohol and cigarettes is, in some sense, the body trying to communicate with us. It doesn't necessarily mean that every unpleasant reaction is a warning of serious harm, but it is remarkable how quickly the body can tell us when something doesn't agree with it.

The real question is: Do we listen?

Henry Barnard

I’m a certified nutrition coach through Precision Nutrition, but my education began long before my certification.

In the mid-1990s, I was significantly overweight. During my lunch breaks, I would visit a local bookstore and spend my time browsing nutrition and diet books, searching for an approach that would finally help me lose the weight. That search became a lifelong passion. More than 30 years later, I still study nutrition every day, and my interest has only grown stronger over the last decade.

My coaching philosophy is built on a few simple principles.

No diet pills. I believe lasting weight loss comes from changing habits, not relying on quick fixes.

Gradually increase dietary fiber. Fiber is one of the most powerful tools for managing hunger because it promotes fullness while supporting gut health. As people naturally feel more satisfied, eating well becomes easier.

Eat more whole foods and fewer processed foods. Whole foods retain the fiber and nutrients that help support health and satiety. Building meals around minimally processed foods makes it easier to create eating habits that last.

Use intermittent fasting when appropriate. For many people, intermittent fasting can be an effective strategy to help reduce body fat, improve appetite control, and simplify eating patterns. It isn't the right approach for everyone, but when it fits a person's lifestyle, it can be a valuable tool.

Evaluate level of exercise and quality of sleep.  Simply because these factors have a major impact on any concerted effort to lose weight.  

Focus on 1% improvements. I don't ask clients to transform their lives overnight. Instead, we identify small, realistic changes they can consistently maintain. Those small improvements compound over time.

I tell clients not to judge success after a week or two. Real, sustainable change takes time. As healthy habits accumulate, the results begin to build on one another. Three months of consistent effort can produce remarkable progress—not just on the scale, but in energy, confidence, and overall health.

My goal isn't to put clients on another diet. It's to help them build a way of eating they can enjoy and maintain for the rest of their lives.

Next
Next

Nuts