7 Practices That Transformed My Health and Happiness
Over the past decade, I have experimented with countless health practices. Some were short-lived fads. Others completely changed the way I move, eat, think, and live.
These seven practices have made the greatest impact on my body, mind, and spirit. They are not quick fixes. Each one has helped me rebuild something deeper: energy, resilience, physical freedom, clarity, or trust in myself.
My understanding of health continues to evolve, but these are the practices I keep returning to.
1. Fascial and Grounding-Based Workouts
Back in 2013, I set out to “fix” my chronic pain by getting stronger in the gym. I believed muscle strength alone would solve everything.
Ten years later, I was stronger on paper, but I was also more compressed, twisted, and less coordinated. Some joints had range without strength, while other areas felt completely locked down. I could perform exercises well without that strength transferring into the way I walked, rotated, breathed, or carried myself through the day.
Everything shifted when I discovered Functional Patterns and began focusing on decompressing my fascial system and reconnecting my body to the ground. Movement became more fluid. Breathing became easier. My anxiety decreased, and I began to trust my body again.
When I needed deeper neurological grounding, I turned to the Applied Integration Academy. Together, these approaches helped me recognize imbalances, create better connections through my body, and build strength that supports the way human beings are designed to move.
The difference is no longer just visible during an exercise. I can feel it in the first few steps I take afterward.
Read: Fascia: The Hidden Web That Shapes Your Movement, Posture, and Health
2. Sauna and Cold Plunge
Sauna and cold plunge are not for everyone, but my body responded strongly to them. When I found an affordable facility nearby, I dove in, literally, and quickly understood why contrast therapy had become such a valuable part of other people’s health routines.
The heat of the sauna increases circulation, challenges the cardiovascular system, promotes sweating, and stimulates heat shock proteins involved in cellular protection and repair. Cold exposure creates a different kind of stress, activating the nervous system, supporting brown fat activity, and producing a powerful shift in energy and mood.
Moving between heat and cold also creates changes in circulation and fluid movement that support the lymphatic system. Because the lymphatic system does not have a central pump like the heart, it depends on movement, breathing, pressure changes, and muscular contractions to keep fluid moving.
I have noticed better recovery, greater tolerance for physical stress, reduced inflammation, and a clearer, more elevated mood from making sauna and cold plunge part of my life.
An unexpected benefit was the community. The sauna became a place where I connected with like-minded, health-conscious people. That sense of connection has become almost as valuable as the physical practice itself.
Read: Beginner’s Guide to Sauna and Cold Plunge Therapy
3. Daily Sunlight and Grounding
It is some of the simplest health advice I give: go outside and touch the earth.
I make a conscious effort to spend time outdoors every day, especially during Minnesota’s warmer months. Sunlight helps regulate circadian rhythm, supports vitamin D production, influences hormone timing, and gives the body information about where it is within the day and season.
Grounding adds another layer. Standing or walking barefoot on natural terrain reconnects the body with the earth while giving the feet, fascia, and nervous system sensory input that flat indoor floors cannot provide.
I notice when I miss my outdoor time. My energy feels different. My mood shifts, and my body begins to feel as though it has spent too long contained by walls, screens, shoes, and artificial light.
Sunlight and grounding are foundational practices for me because they work with the environment the body evolved within. They do not require an expensive device or a complicated routine. They require me to step outside and participate.
Read: Sunlight: Nature’s Most Powerful Daily Reset Buttonand Grounding: How Connecting to the Earth Improves Mood, Sleep, and Overall Health, Even in Winter
4. Fiber Maxing
I have tried Whole30, paleo, raw vegan eating, and a pro-metabolic diet. Each approach taught me something, but the way I eat now has changed again.
Pro-metabolic eating helped me stop fearing food. It taught me to eat enough, prioritize protein, and use carbohydrates to support my training and energy demands. For a time, that was exactly what I needed.
Eventually, my version of it became too dependent on dairy, meat, and heavier foods. I was eating enough protein, but I was not getting the hydration, fiber, or plant variety that made my body feel its best.
Now I focus on fiber maxing: building meals around a wide variety of fiber-rich plant foods while still eating enough protein to support strength, recovery, and an active lifestyle.
For me, that includes:
Beans, peas, and lentils
Berries and other fruit
Vegetables in a variety of colors
Nuts and seeds
Flax and chia
Gluten-free whole grains
Plant-forward meals with meaningful protein
This is not a return to the low-protein raw vegan diet I followed in the past. I am not replacing protein with vegetables or assuming that a plant-based label automatically makes a meal nourishing.
I am combining what different phases of my health journey taught me. I still prioritize protein and adequate fuel, but I now place much more emphasis on fiber, hydration, micronutrients, and plant diversity.
During my 30-day Thistle experiment, I maintained my weight and supported my workouts while averaging roughly 100 grams of protein and considerably more fiber than I had been eating before. My meals felt lighter, more colorful, and more hydrating. I did not feel as though I had to choose between eating for strength and eating for long-term health.
Fiber maxing has made food feel expansive again. Instead of organizing every meal around what I need to avoid, I look at what I can add.
Read: My 30-Day Thistle Experiment
5. Rolfing
After one Rolfing session, I went to a workout class and felt something through my back that I still remember. It felt as though a sheet of papier-mâché had fallen away and, for the first time, I could feel my skin and muscles gliding across one another.
Rolfing is a form of structural integration and manual fascial work. It has given my body a level of freedom I did not know was possible.
Years ago, I attended a workshop that emphasized bone positioning over fascial health. I stayed committed to that approach for years, but forcing my bones into better positions did not address the tissue compression pulling me back into the same patterns.
Tight, dehydrated, and poorly organized fascia can restrict movement, influence alignment, reduce circulation, increase pain, and keep the nervous system in a guarded state. Once I began addressing the fascial compression itself, movement started to feel available rather than forced.
Daily life stopped feeling like a battle against my own body.
Read: Rolfing: Releasing the Body, Freeing the Self
6. Sobriety
Sobriety is a personal choice that cannot be forced, but for me, it is one of the best decisions I have ever made.
Substances masked my deeper issues while gradually wearing down my body, distorting my intuition, and clouding my sense of self. They gave me temporary relief from discomfort but prevented me from understanding what that discomfort was trying to show me.
Sobriety required me to feel what I had spent years avoiding. Over time, that became one of its greatest gifts.
The clarity, stability, health, and self-trust I have gained since getting sober are worth more than I can put into words. I can hear myself again, and I can make decisions from a place that is not being constantly altered or numbed.
Read: Sobriety: Learning to Feel Comfortable in My Own Skin
7. Surrender
As someone deeply committed to health and self-improvement, surrender has not come naturally to me.
My instinct is to keep looking for the next exercise, treatment, food, explanation, or piece of information that might finally solve everything. That drive has helped me change my life, but it can also convince me that every outcome rests entirely on my shoulders.
The more I have released control to God, the universe, or however you define a higher power, the more life has opened up.
Surrender does not mean abandoning responsibility. It means recognizing the boundary between the actions I can take and the outcomes I cannot force. I can care deeply, work consistently, and still release my demand to know exactly how everything will unfold.
The Serenity Prayer continues to guide me:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Read: The Art of Surrender: Letting Go of Control to Find Peace
What These Seven Practices Gave Me
At first glance, these practices seem unrelated. One involves movement, another food, another temperature, another faith.
But each one returned something I had lost.
Fascial work gave me physical space. Sauna and cold taught me how to meet intensity. Sunlight and grounding reconnected me to the natural world. Fiber maxing changed the materials I use to nourish and rebuild my body. Rolfing helped me feel movement beneath years of compression. Sobriety gave me clarity. Surrender gave me somewhere to place what I could not control.
Together, they have helped me move better, think more clearly, and live with greater trust in my body and my path.
Where Should You Begin?
You do not need to take on seven new practices at once. Start with the part of your health asking most clearly for your attention.
Do you feel compressed when you move? Depleted by the way you eat? Disconnected from the outdoors? Unable to rest without numbing, fixing, or controlling?
Choose the question that feels closest to your life right now.
