Ten years ago you’d find me in a hard hat, safety vest, and steel-toed boots working in Northern Alberta and British Columbia in oil and gas. I called myself a joystick jockey, because I was pulling levers on an excavator for 12 hour days digging ditch on the pipeline. The rumble of heavy machinery drowned out everything else as I maneuvered tons of earth, working long days that stretched into weeks and months away from home.

Fast forward to today, and you’ll find me in a completely different kind of “dig site” – diving deep into the latest brain health research, helping clients excavate their way to better cognitive performance and recovery through nutrition. Instead of moving dirt, I’m moving people toward healthier lives. Instead of building infrastructure, I’m building sustainable eating habits that support the most important infrastructure of all: their brains.

My journey from operating excavators in the oil patch to becoming a Registered Dietitian wasn’t exactly a straight line – more like the winding access roads I traveled to remote job sites. But every twist, challenge, and muskeg detour led me here, writing to you about the power of nutrition to transform not just how we feel, but how our brains function, heal, and age.

My Story – The Foundation

The Big Move (2001)

In late 2001 I got a phone call that changed the trajectory of my life. I made the leap that thousands of Newfoundlanders have made before and since, I packed a bag, boarded a plane, and headed west for Alberta. Back home, opportunity felt as scarce as a sunny day in November. But Alberta? Alberta was booming. The oil patch was calling, promising steady work, good money, and a chance to build something.

Let’s be honest – I wasn’t drawn to oil and gas work for any noble reason. It paid well. Really well. As a labourer, I was making more than three times what I’d been earning back home stocking shelves at the grocery store. That kind of money talks, especially when you’re young and trying to build a life from scratch.

But something funny happened along the way – I grew to love the work. As a labourer, there was something deeply satisfying about the tangible progress you could see at the end of each day. Pipe in the ground, ditches backfilled, another section of the project completed. There’s a particular kind of pride that comes from hard physical work well done, from seeing a job site rise from dirt to done and knowing you were part of it.

After a couple of years labouring, I managed to get an opportunity to run an excavator. It felt like I’d grown up and the “sandbox” just got a whole lot bigger. There was something almost meditative about operating that machine – becoming an extension of it, moving tons of earth with precision that took real skill to master. The learning curve was steep, but mastering those controls, developing that fine touch needed to place a pipe exactly where it needed to go – that was genuinely rewarding work.

For years, this life worked. The money was good, the work was steady, and I was building expertise that was always in demand. But the road asked for a lot in return and I was missing everything that mattered. Rotations meant weeks and months away and I’d come home for brief stretches between jobs, trying to reconnect with a life that kept moving forward without me. Somewhere around the 15-year mark, I started to realize what this lifestyle was really costing me.

The Turning Point

The wake-up call came gradually, then all at once. During those long hours operating equipment, I started listening to health and wellness podcasts that opened my eyes to the real impact nutrition could have on preventing and treating chronic diseases. What began as background noise to break the monotony of long workdays became genuine fascination. I was discovering that food wasn’t just fuel – it was medicine, capable of influencing everything from energy levels to brain function to long-term health outcomes. That’s when I first discovered the career of dietetics.

It hit me: you can actually do this for a living? Help people with food and science? The idea stuck. And eventually, I decided to act on it.

Walking away from construction wasn’t simple. Returning to school as a mature student came with financial trade-offs, late nights, and plenty of second-guessing. But each hurdle became a marker of progress. Nearly a decade later—after coursework, clinical internship, and a lot of growth—I’m exactly where I want to be: doing meaningful work, rooted in my community, and present at home.

Why I Do What I Do

My practice is shaped by my own story. I’ve experienced concussions and have a strong family history of Alzheimer’s disease, so brain health isn’t just professional—it’s personal.

I also know the realities of eating on the road: camp kitchens, cafeteria lines, gas-station snacks, and limited control over what’s on the plate. That lived experience keeps my approach practical and judgment-free.

I don’t aim for perfection. I aim for progress—evidence-based strategies that meet you where you are. Nutrition isn’t about being “good” or “bad”; it’s about fuelling your brain and body so you can recover, perform, and thrive.

Nutrition isn’t a magic wand either, but it is a lever we can pull—consistently, compassionately, and with evidence behind it. That’s why I do what I do.

Who I Help

I support folks who want to use nutrition to enhance:

• Brain health and cognitive function

• Concussion recovery and head-injury rehabilitation

• Healthy ageing and Alzheimer’s risk reduction

• Day-to-day clarity, energy, and focus

What makes our work together different? I’ve been where you are. I understand the barriers, the time constraints, the limited options. My recommendations aren’t theoretical – they’re tested in the real world by someone who’s actually lived these challenges.

Final Thoughts

From hard hats to healthy fats, my path hasn’t been linear—but it’s been worth it. If any of this resonates—if you’re looking to optimize your brain health, support concussion recovery, or set yourself up for healthy aging, I’d be honoured to help.