🪵 Off-Grid, On the Move: How Homesteading is Helping (and Challenging) Our Weight Loss Journey

When people imagine off-grid living, they picture a cute little cabin, chickens peacefully pecking, and a perfectly rustic sourdough loaf cooling on the windowsill.

And honestly? We leaned hard into that Little House on the Prairie vibe—so much so that for months, Will and I had to climb a ladder to get to our lofted bedroom. At night. In the dark. With creaky knees and full bladders.

Living off-grid isn’t a romantic fantasy. It’s a full-body workout. And weirdly? It’s helped us lose weight. On purpose this time.

🪵 The Accidental Fitness Plan

Let’s be real. When you live off-grid, you are the gym.

We’re not doing squats for the ‘gram—we’re hauling water buckets, building walls, chasing dogs out of the garden, and keeping chickens from plotting their escape.

A typical day looks something like this:

• Building our home by hand, board by board

• Tending to the garden—and pulling weeds like it’s our side hustle

• Caring for the chickens, dogs, and feral cats that have somehow adopted us

• Chopping, hauling, and stacking firewood for warmth (and survival)

• Scaring off wildlife that’s way too interested in our trash

• Managing every system manually because “automatic” isn’t a thing out here

And no, we don’t have goats yet—but if we did, I’m sure they’d be part of the workout plan too.

Without even trying, we’ve found ourselves moving more, sweating more, and feeling the difference in our bodies.

❄️ But Then... Winter

Here’s the truth no one puts on Instagram: winter is the hard part.

When the sun goes down at 4:30 and it’s 15 degrees outside, the idea of "keeping active" feels laughable. Your garden’s dead, your projects are frozen solid, and your to-do list gets replaced by “Keep the fire going. Stay warm. Eat carbs.”

And yeah, there’s skiing—but when you’re working with two reconstructed knees and a homesteading budget, skiing often ends up in the “maybe someday” pile.

So we’ve learned that winter is when things get dangerous—when the snacks creep in and the sweatpants start lying to you.

This year? We're doing things differently.

🚶‍♀️ Our Off-Grid Winter Wellness Plan

We’re not trying to reinvent ourselves. But we are making some choices to stay in motion, even when the ground is frozen:

• Snowshoeing through the backwoods

• Winter hikes (short and sweet, but they count)

• Chopping extra firewood for both heat and heart rate

• Stretching and strength work indoors—yes, yoga mats are allowed in the cabin

• Intentional movement instead of unintentional couch-nesting

This time, we’re not letting the season steal our progress.

💉 The Peptide That’s Helped Us Along the Way

We’ve been using Tirzepatide to assist us on this journey—and it’s made a difference.

Not by doing the work for us, but by giving us the space to do it. It's helped curb the constant cravings, regulate blood sugar swings, and remind us what feeling “in control” actually feels like.

We’ll update this post later with some specifics on how much weight we’ve lost—but let’s just say: our flannels fit better, and we don’t dread mirrors like we used to.

This is just one tool in our toolbox—but paired with all the work we're doing out here, it's a powerful one.

🧠 It’s About More Than the Scale

Homesteading slows you down enough to listen to yourself again. And what I’ve learned is this: I don’t just want to lose weight—I want to feel better. Lighter in my body, yes, but also in my mind.

This life has taught me that movement matters, food matters, and connection matters. And not just to the land—but to yourself.

This isn’t a diet. It’s a reset. A reclamation. A refusal to go numb just because it’s cold outside.

🔥 The Flabwood Final Word

Homesteading won’t give you six-pack abs, but it will make you strong—in the arms, in the soul, and in the kind of grit it takes to chop wood in a snowstorm.

And if you’re out there wondering how to stay active, stay grounded, or just feel a little more alive this winter, we see you.

Let’s move, let’s grow, let’s get uncomfortable in the right ways.

And if all else fails?

Stack some firewood.

Stomp through the snow.

And remember—we’re all just out here trying our best.