Precerpt from Grandma Ninja's Training Diary: Bones, Pride, and Proton Pumps
I used to think bone loss was something that happened to other people — the ones who didn’t train, who sat too long, who gave up on movement. Then one day my dentist looked at an X‑ray and said, “You’ve lost a tooth because the bone dissolved.” That got my attention. Turns out my bones weren’t just aging; they were reacting to my medication. Omeprazole — the little pill that keeps my reflux quiet — was quietly stealing calcium from my skeleton. The irony was rich: I could eat without pain, but my bones were paying the price. I started out with the standard dose: 40 mg twice a day. For months, it worked beautifully for my stomach and apparently terribly for my jaw. When the dentist finally connected the dots, my GI doctor cut it down to 20 mg once a day — a maintenance dose. I added discipline, timing, and gravity to the mix: no food after sundown, no lying flat after meals, and plenty of calisthenics early in the day (a good time to get over any bed behavior before sundown and accounta...