Chapter 4 – The Anchor
After the storm, after the waves have crashed and receded, after the wreckage is laid bare—what’s left?
That’s the question I had to answer. Because when life strips everything back, you have two choices: drift aimlessly or find something solid to hold onto. I knew I needed an anchor. Something real, something unwavering. And when I looked beyond the chaos, I found it in the things I’ve always loved: my children, Jiu-Jitsu, strength and conditioning, and helping others.
Jiu-Jitsu – A Metaphor for Life
I’ve always known that Jiu-Jitsu is more than just a sport. It’s a way of thinking, a way of being. The mats don’t lie—when you step on them, you bring exactly who you are in that moment. Your strengths, your weaknesses, your doubts, your determination.
Jiu-Jitsu has taught me that control is an illusion. You can’t force your way through every situation. Sometimes, you have to flow, to adapt, to survive before you can attack. It’s the same with life. When cancer, heartbreak, and loss hit me in waves, I had to learn to stop resisting, to stop trying to power through everything with sheer force. I had to breathe, adjust, and find a way to move forward with intention.
So I trained like I was competing—not just for the physical benefits, but because the discipline of Jiu-Jitsu kept me grounded. It reminded me that no matter how much I was struggling, I could still show up. Still fight. Still improve.
Strength & Conditioning – The Meditative Discipline
Lifting heavy became more than just training. It became a meditation. A place where my mind could quiet, where the only thing that mattered was the weight in front of me. The discipline of following a program, of progressively getting stronger, of showing up even on the days I didn’t feel like it—that was a lesson in resilience.
As I prepared for surgery, I set a goal: to get my body into the best physical condition of my life. If I was going to face this challenge, I was going to do it with every ounce of strength I had. That meant committing to my training like never before, pushing my limits, making my body as strong as possible to endure what was coming.
Strength and conditioning weren’t just about muscle. They were about preparing myself for battle. For survival.
Nutrition – Fueling My Body for the Fight
Healing isn’t just about what you do—it’s also about what you put into your body. I knew I had to be intentional with my nutrition, stripping back the unnecessary, fuelling myself in a way that would support my body’s ability to heal.
• Fasting and Juicing – I gave my body time to reset, to heal, to use its energy for recovery instead of digestion.
• Ketones and Cancer – Research suggests that reducing sugar and increasing ketone production can help in cancer recovery. Whether or not it was a magic bullet, I knew that keeping my body in an optimal state mattered.
• Removing Red Meat – I started cutting out foods that added inflammation, focusing on what nourished and sustained me.
I wasn’t just eating for survival—I was eating for strength, for longevity, for life.
The Pillars That Keep Me Grounded
Healing isn’t just about bouncing back. It’s about learning how to stay steady in the face of whatever comes next. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know this: I have my anchors.
• My children. The love and responsibility that keep me focused.
• Jiu-Jitsu. The art that teaches me patience, control, and resilience.
• Strength & conditioning. The discipline that pushes me beyond my limits.
• Nutrition. The fuel that allows me to perform at my best.
• Meditation. The stillness that allows me to process, reflect, and reset.
• Helping others. The purpose that makes everything meaningful.
No matter what happens, these are the things I hold onto. These are the things that keep me steady. And that’s enough.
