The Beginning: My Diagnosis and My Vow of Vengeance
“Pre-Diabetic.” That’s what the doctor said to me during my annual physical. The phrase hit me hard. Me? With that condition? It felt foreign and ridiculous. Sure, I had friends who lived with diabetes, but I always assumed it was someone else other than me.
More than anything, it just annoyed me. So, naturally, I set forth to “fix this myself.”
My “research” (i.e., Facebook feeds) led me to a massive dietary pivot. For decades, my breakfast had been pure carbohydrates: cereal or glorious curry beef/BBQ pork buns. So I did the unthinkable: I switched to eating the free eggs at work and eventually home (egg shortage due to Avian Bird Flu). I also started actively avoiding rice and noodles, and for the first time ever, I worked out with something resembling consistency.
The real eye-opener wasn’t the workout; it was the disappearance of my infamous “hangry” state. Turns out, when you stop eating “Glucose” at 7 a.m., you don’t turn into a grouchy monster by 11:30 a.m.
“Hey,” I thought, high-fiving myself in the bathroom mirror, “I fixed myself!“
Failure to Launch
Fast forward a year to my next annual check-up. I even fasted extra-long, just to ensure my blood sugar reading would be extra low—a triumphant “Kick Ass” stamp on my self-hack project. I waited with bated breath…
Only to be told: “Same as last year. Pre-diabetic.“
WTF. How did I not drop significantly? The workouts! The massive shift in diet! All my hopes of being a health-guru self-hack master, gone! At this point, I had only two options left: prescription meds or a Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM) as a last ditch step to fixing myself**.**
My slight fear of poking my arm was quickly overpowered by the sheer anger and indignation of failing to solve this problem with sheer willpower and eggs. I had Cathy do the honors (it seemed unnecessarily difficult to stab myself), and my journey began.
I also fell down the glorious internet rabbit hole, binge-listening to influencers like the famous Canadian Dr. Jason Fung, the delightful Glucose Goddess (Dr. Jessie Inchauspe), and Dr. Eric Berg (who, yes, I’ve been told is “technically not a real doctor, he’s a chiropractor”—but hey, the man has opinions!). Their conclusion was depressingly unanimous: Sugar is basically the villain of the human body, even if it tastes like pure happiness.
The Pizza Massacre and the “A-Ha” Moment
My true “A-Ha” moment arrived about a week into CGM monitoring. We’d gone to an incredible pizza joint on Bainbridge Island, and for those who know me, you know I consider “undoing my belt” a sign of a great meal. That night, I crammed down eight slices of pizza (small slices, but still) and half a slice of tiramisu. My early, flawed research told me alcohol helps lower blood sugar, so I happily chased it all with a generous amount of wine.
Looking at the CGM right before bed, I was smug. The numbers were nice and reasonable (~130 mg/dL). “Ha!” I thought. “This diabetes thing is a joke! What was I worried about?”
The next morning, I checked my “fasting” level, and I was well over 200! My sugar levels had skyrocketed from 130 to 220 around 1:00 a.m., and they didn’t come back down to 130 until four days later! I briefly wondered if I needed to check into a hospital.
The truly scary part? I felt perfectly fine. It felt like any other weekend where I’d stuff myself silly. The CGM showed me the hidden damage my body was dealing with.
Phase I: Emergency Mitigation (The Accidental Weight Loss Program)
From that moment, I vowed to actually fix myself at all costs. The internet consensus led me to three things, which I followed religiously:
- Intermittent Fasting: 16–18 hours, 2–3 days a week. And the occasional 24–36 hour extended fast (to trigger Autophagy).
- Exercise: Consistent three times a week workouts, plus 30 minutes on the Peloton after dinner almost every night.
- “Zero” Carb Diet: Mostly true, though I relaxed later with milk (calcium is important, people!) and cut my alcohol intake from the previous two bottles per week to a measly two glasses.
Two months in, I was shocked. I looked thinner, especially in the face. I had dropped 20 lbs! By the third month, I had lost 30 lbs in total. I convinced myself that since I was still lifting weights, it was all pure fat loss and zero muscle!
Of course, it was both. While I successfully banished my love handles (down to a 30” waist!), I was also deeply unhappy about losing my overall “largeness” (my muscle). My skinny Korean friend even joked that he thought he could beat me in wrestling now. The nerve!
By the end of Phase I, my morning sugar levels were consistently sitting at a “Laura” level ~85–90 mg/dL. Mission accomplished.
Phase II: The Southeast Asian Sabotage
The real reason for Phase I was really to prepare myself for our annual trip to Malaysia and Singapore, a land where every favorite food is sugary or highly processed carbs (Kway Teow).
For two glorious months, I went back to my normal eating habits—though perhaps not as recklessly as before. I didn’t stuff myself silly, but I certainly ate a lot of high-carb meals and drank more alcohol than Phase I.
By the sixth week, my blood sugar levels started looking “weak,” hovering around 110 in the mornings. Still okay, I suppose, but nowhere near my Phase I champion status of 85! By the last week, especially after an incredible super fancy dinner (best restaurant in Singapore) with wine pairing, it felt like I had undone all that hard work.
Phase III: The Hybrid Compromise
I’m now home, and luckily, within a few days of my standard “breakfast” of two eggs, sardines, beans, and a latte, my sugar levels bounced back to a respectable ~95.
The goal of this new, evolved phase is twofold:
- Cautious Carb Reintroduction: Add carbs back, but strategically—ideally on days I’m planning a heavy workout.
- Muscle Reclamation: Rebuild the lost “largeness.” Protein shakes have officially joined the grocery list.
As of today, I’ve gained a couple of pounds, and my muscles are slowly starting to come back. A former coworker, who happens to be a semi-professional bicyclist, pointed me toward TDEE (Total Daily Energy Expenditure) for my next phase of knowledge.
Until then, I will continue this noble quest to be a well-built, non-diabetic human who can occasionally survive a small slice of pizza.
For #ELF
Stories to Remember 
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