If your metabolism were a Hallmark Christmas movie, it would absolutely star a woman named Holly. Holly is the girl who left her tiny hometown of Pineberry Falls years ago to chase the Big City Life™. Now she has the things you’re “supposed” to want ... the job, the salary, fancy wardrobe, the view from a high-rise corner office… and exactly zero margin in her day. Breakfast is cold brew and a mint. Lunch is whatever she can inhale between Zoom calls. Workouts used to be a thing, but now her steps are mostly frantic trips between her desk and the fridge. She’s exhausted, puffy, moody, and her jeans are having a very honest conversation with her midsection. Her metabolism is basically lying face down on the floor whispering, “Ma’am…I am doing everything I can.”
So, naturally, she flies home for Christmas.
Enter Pineberry Falls -- a town where everyone somehow knows each other’s business, all street lamps are wrapped in garland, and at least one local shop is struggling but adorable. The second Holly steps off the bus, the snow starts falling in cinematic slow motion. Her shoulders drop a half inch. She can actually hear herself think. She sleeps through the night for the first time in months. Her metabolism perks its head up like, “Wait…is this… safety? Is this… rest? Is that… fiber?”
And then, because Hallmark has rules, she runs into him.
Nick. High school sweetheart. Former football captain. Still lives in town. Drives a pick-up truck that looks like it’s seen things. Smells like cedar, fresh snow, and car oil. He’s been working three blue-collar jobs and taking care of his sick aunt. He chops wood. He fixes things. He eats real meals, goes to bed at a decent hour, and thinks “stepping away from email” is not a radical act, but a Tuesday. He is, whether he knows it or not, the human embodiment of decent sleep, blood-sugar-friendly meals, lifting heavy things, walks in the cold, and a nervous system that gets to actually come down off the ledge once in a while.
They reconnect, obviously, at the town Christmas tree lighting ceremony (obviously). The entire town is there in coordinated scarves. Kids are running around with aesthetic mugs of hot cocoa. A local choir is singing. Someone plugs in the lights, the tree glows, they accidentally touch hands while reaching for the same ornament, and time slows down. Holly feels her shoulders drop another half inch. Her heart rate settles. Her breathing deepens. Her metabolism sits up straight like, “Ohhhh, okay, I remember this version of us.”
But because we can’t have nice things without plot first, the Big Conflict arrives right on schedule. Holly’s phone rings. It’s her Big City Boss™. There’s a crisis. A deal is falling apart. They “need her in the office immediately.” In ten seconds flat she’s back in fight-or-flight. Cortisol spikes. Cravings roar back. Sleep is gone. Her brain, which was just starting to consider safety and steady energy, goes, “Abort mission, we live in emergency mode now.” And in classic burned-out-woman fashion, she instinctively runs toward the very life that’s been slowly frying her.
She races to the airport. Of course there’s a snowstorm. Every flight is cancelled. People are camped out on the floor. Everyone is rage-refreshing the airline app under the bright, fluorescent lights. Holly sits in a hard plastic chair, bright overheads buzzing, scrolling emails she doesn’t want to answer, and thinking, “What if my entire life has been working against how my body actually functions?
Outside, in the dark, a truck pulls up.
It’s Nick. Because of course. Somehow he has bravely navigated the blizzard with nothing but four-wheel drive and main-character energy. He finds her in the terminal, drops the line that every Hallmark male lead is contractually obligated to say: “Holly…you don’t have to go back. You could just ... stay. With me.” And she laughs, but her body hears it. Her heart rate drops. That buzzing, wired-tired feeling backs off. Her metabolism leans in like, “Say more…”
Here’s where the movie goes full-on cheesy and you can't believe you're still watching. It turns out Nick has just inherited a massive fortune from his aunt. He’s no longer the broke boy with a heart of gold, he’s the rich man with a heart of gold who wants to help Holly open her dream -- a half bake shop / half bookstore on Main Street. Gluten-free muffins by day, cozy book club by night. She can leave the corporate job that’s been aging her faster than any birthday and build a life that actually fits how a female body, brain, and nervous system work.
And that’s the twist! Turns out she was never lazy, undisciplined, or falling apart with age. She was just living in an environment and routine completely incompatible with midlife physiology. Her old life -- chronic stress, under-eating, over-working, five hours of sleep, constant pressure -- was the real villain. Pineberry Falls, with its slow mornings, real food, community, movement built into regular life, and space to breathe, becomes the metaphor for metabolic and nervous-system safety. Nick isn’t the savior, he’s a walking, flannel-wrapped reminder of what it looks like when your daily choices stop fighting your biology.
By the end of the movie, Holly is lifting weights in the little town gym, eating a full breakfast everyday, sleeping like a golden retriever after a long walk, and watching her energy, mood, and body composition shift. Her lab markers quietly transform in the background. Her jeans fit differently. Her confidence comes back. And the final voiceover says something like, “When a woman stops waging war on her own body and starts designing a life that supports it…that’s when the real magic happens.” as they kiss under the mistletoe.
So if you've been struggling, go spend some time in Pineberry Falls. That's it. That's the newsletter.
Nah, just kidding.
You don’t need a Christmas snowstorm or a half bake shop / half bookstore to get your version of that ending. You don’t have to move to a small town or quit your job tomorrow. But if Holly’s story hits a little too close to home, it might be your cue to stop treating your exhaustion, weight, and health like it's a personal failure ... and start treating them like the predictable result of a system that was never built for your nervous system, hormones, or metabolism in the first place.
This is why I coach the way I do. TRANSFORM, The Metabolic Edge, my 1:1 work ... they’re all just different doors into your own Pineberry Falls. Spaces where we stop asking, “How do I shrink myself the fastest?” and start asking, “What would it look like to build a life and strategy that my midlife body can actually thrive in?” No fake snow required. Just nerdy physiology, smart structure, nervous-system safety…and a very happy ending for your future self.
XO,
Tara
P.S. In case you missed it ...
My 2025 Holiday Gift Guide is for wellness enthusiasts with all budgets in mind. Peek the big section on free ideas and experiences.
Cozy Fiber Recipes is my brand new high fiber, balanced, WARM recipe collection b/c you don't need to eat cold leaves all Winter long.
New research -- a large Finnish cohort study (≈14,000 adults, followed for up to 39 years) found that people who used a sauna about 9–12 times per month (about 3x/week) had a lower risk of developing dementia than those who used it ≤4 times per month. This association stayed significant even after adjusting for age, sex, education, lifestyle, and metabolic risk factors. Moderate temperatures (80–99 °C) and typical session lengths (5–14 minutes) looked most favorable. But here's where it got interesting ... very high temperatures (>100 °C / 212 F) were linked to higher risk in early follow-up. Because it’s observational, the study suggests sauna may be protective as long as it's not too hot (which would make sense with what we know about mechanism), but it can’t prove causation. As always, more research is needed. But we do have enough research to know sauna use is excellent for our health and metabolism in many ways!