Man, lemme tell ya, the whole idea of getting my health advice from a Virgo horoscope is something I still kinda laugh at. It’s a total mess, I know. But hear me out, because the results were real, even if the starting point was ridiculous.
I usually trash talk all that zodiac crap. I’m an engineer, I like logic, I like things that are proven. But 2017? That year was a dumpster fire, I tell ya. By December, I was just surviving. Not living, just surviving. My sleep schedule was a tragedy. I was eating takeout, like, four times a week, and my energy levels were dipping so low by 2 PM, I was basically a zombie staring at a screen.
My old man, bless his heart, he kept hassling me. He’d seen me run ragged before, but this was different. He’s always been into that New Age stuff—crystals, energies, you name it. He sent me this email just after the New Year chimed in, January 2018. The subject line was totally benign, something like “Look at this nonsense,” but inside was a link to some site with the Virgo Monthly Horoscope. I ignored the love and money sections, but the health blurb? It felt like it was staring right into my soul.
The Messy Start: Turning Star Charts into Action
The horoscope had three main points for health that month. They were simple, almost insultingly so, which is probably why I decided to actually try ‘em. If they were complicated, I’d have bailed instantly.
Here was the deal:
- Routine is King (Sleep): Force a bedtime. The chart said “Harness Saturn’s structure,” which I translated to: Get your butt into bed by 11 PM, even if you just stare at the ceiling.
- The Watery Way (Diet): Cut the processed sugar way down. It talked about cleansing the “Earth element” with simple fluids, which I figured meant just stop drinking soda and energy drinks. Replace them with plain water.
- Grounding Movement (Exercise): Find one small, repetitive motion and stick to it. I chose walking. Not jogging, not the gym, just a thirty-minute power walk every day after dinner. No excuses.
The first week was absolute hell, seriously.
I tried to implement the sleep routine first. I’d be lying there at 11 PM, wide awake, staring at the shadows on the wall, thinking about work and all the crap I hadn’t done. I’d grab my phone. Check a message. Check the news. Two hours later, I was still awake. I didn’t get this “structure” thing; it felt like forced insomnia. I started sleeping worse than before, all because I was stressed about the time.
The diet swap? Forget about it. The sugar headaches were the worst I’ve had since college. I was so cranky my poor roommate actually moved out of the apartment early, claiming I was “psychologically volatile.” Maybe I was. I literally tossed a whole box of donuts I bought and immediately regretted it, but I stuck to the no-soda rule because I’d made myself a physical promise.
The walking, though, was the one part that somehow stuck from Day One. It wasn’t fun, and it was cold in January, but something about putting on a coat and just moving forward, feeling my feet hit the pavement, felt oddly soothing. It was only thirty minutes. I figured anyone can do thirty minutes.
The Pivot: From Nonsense to Non-negotiable
It was somewhere around January 20th, I remember because my birthday is later that month. I woke up naturally at 6:30 AM. Not jolted awake by an alarm, but just woke up. I didn’t feel like I’d fought a bear all night. That was the first time in maybe three years I felt that—just a clean, simple wake-up. I rolled out of bed, drank a glass of water, and didn’t immediately reach for coffee.
That day, I started keeping a crude record. Not a fancy journal, just a note in my phone called ‘Jan 18 V-Check.’ I was just tracking three things, all on a scale of 1 to 5:
- Energy Level: How many times did I think about napping before 5 PM?
- Clarity: How quickly did I finish my hardest task of the day?
- Headache Count: Did I need Tylenol? Yes or No.
What I saw was insane. By the end of the month, the ‘Headache Count’ column was mostly ‘No.’ My ‘Energy Level’ ratings crept from 1s and 2s up to 4s. The structure I had forced myself into—the 11 PM bedtime, the walking—had finally stopped being a battle and just became the default setting.
The thing is, it wasn’t the Virgo horoscope that was some kind of magic bullet. It wasn’t the stars lining up. The real solution wasn’t finding some hidden cosmic knowledge. No, the whole darn thing was just a stupid, arbitrary excuse to kick my own butt into creating three tiny, non-negotiable habits. The astrology just gave me a deadline and a theme. Once I committed the actions, the rest of the body just followed along, despite my initial resistance and that terrible sugar withdrawal. I went from a chaotic mess to a guy who could actually think straight. That’s the real story, man. That’s how I felt great. By just doing the stupid things until they weren’t stupid anymore.
