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Gary Holloway

Gary Holloway Facebook ad: “Read this if the burning and tingling won't stop”

Gary Holloway Facebook ad: Read this if the burning and tingling won't stop

Ran for 1 day, from May 31 to June 1, 2026, the last day Crush saw it.

Run by Gary Holloway on Facebook. Crush is not the advertiser and does not verify its claims. See this ad in Meta's Ad Library(opens in a new tab)

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Meta Ad Library ID
1925050708196333
Platforms
Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, Messenger and Threads
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Ad text

Who else looks at photos from a few years ago and barely recognizes the person they used to be? I found a video on my phone last February that I had no memory of recording. It was from 3 years ago. A Sunday afternoon. Backyard barbecue. I watched it 3 times before I put the phone down. I want to tell you what I saw in that video. 2 minutes and 40 seconds. My brother-in-law had recorded it without telling anyone. Just caught a moment the way phones catch moments now, casually, accidentally, in a way that feels trivial until 3 years later when you watch it and realize what you are actually seeing is evidence. I was standing at the grill. Laughing at something someone off camera had said. Moving around the yard the way I used to move, without thinking about it, without calculating, without any part of my attention dedicated to monitoring what my body was doing or about to do. My daughter was chasing my grandson across the grass. I put down the tongs and ran after them for about 20 seconds. Just ran. For no reason other than that it was a good afternoon and running seemed like the right response to it. I watched that part 4 times. I have not run for any reason in 14 months. Not because I made a decision not to. Because somewhere in the past 2 and a half years the person who ran across a backyard on a Sunday afternoon because it seemed like the right thing to do became someone who calculates whether the trip to the kitchen is worth the burning it will cause in his feet. Those are not the same person. I sat on the edge of my bed watching a 2 minute video and felt the distance between them like something physical. The version of me in that video was 60 years old. I did not feel 60 in any way that constrained me. I felt like a person in the middle of his life with a significant amount of useful runway ahead. I had retired from 30 years in telecommunications management the previous spring. I had plans. A workshop I was going to finally outfit properly. A garden that had been neglected for a decade while I worked 50 hour weeks. A marriage I was going to give the time and attention it deserved now that the career had stopped consuming everything. What I had not planned for was the tingling that started in my left foot about 8 months after that video was recorded. Or the burning that followed 4 months after that. Or the fatigue that arrived so gradually I couldn't identify when it started, only that at some point I looked up and realized I was tired before the day had asked me for anything. Or the way those 3 things combined into a version of daily life that bore almost no resemblance to the man standing at a grill in a backyard video running after his grandson because a Sunday afternoon seemed like a good enough reason. My wife Carol watched the transition without being able to stop it. She is not a person who catastrophizes. She is steady and practical and she approaches problems the way you approach problems when you have been a nurse for 32 years, with clear eyes and without unnecessary drama. But I caught her looking at me sometimes with an expression she could not fully neutralize before I saw it. Not pity. Something more complicated than pity. The expression of someone watching a gap open between what is and what was supposed to be and not knowing how to close it. She said something to me once that I have thought about many times since. She said you used to wake up and immediately start thinking about what you wanted to do with the day. She said now you wake up and immediately start thinking about how you feel. That was accurate and it was one of the more painful accurate things anyone has ever said to me. I had been through the medical workup twice. Blood sugar elevated, prediabetic, worth monitoring. Peripheral neuropathy, mild, non-specific, consistent with metabolic changes in men my age. B12 borderline. Everything else acceptable. My doctor said watch the diet. Supplement B12. Stay active. I watched the diet. Supplemented B12. Stayed as active as the burning and fatigue allowed which was increasingly less active than I wanted to be. 14 months of doing the right things and arriving at the same place. I tried supplements on my own. B12 for 4 months, the fatigue didn't shift. Magnesium glycinate for 10 weeks, the burning at night continued. Alpha lipoic acid for 12 weeks because the research behind it was serious and I was not going to give up on legitimate science without a proper trial. 12 weeks. Every morning. No exceptions. Carol tested me informally at the end. Not medically. Just asked how I felt compared to the start. I told her the truth. The same. She nodded. Didn't say anything else. That was worse than if she had said something. I found the thing that changed my understanding on a Thursday night in March. I had not planned to be reading research at 11 PM. I had planned to watch something with Carol and go to bed at a reasonable hour. But she had fallen asleep on the couch and I was not tired in the way that leads to sleep, I was tired in the way that leads to sitting in the dark with a laptop feeling like there must be something I have not tried yet. I had been reading about mitochondrial function and its relationship to nerve health, not because I had a specific destination in mind but because I had read everything else and this felt like a direction I hadn't fully explored. I ended up in a paper that stopped me. European. Old enough to be heavily cited. It was discussing the clinical use of alpha lipoic acid for peripheral nerve conditions and something in the language was different from anything I had read in 14 months of researching this problem. The researchers kept specifying something I had never seen specified on any supplement label I had purchased. R-alpha lipoic acid. The R-form. I had taken alpha lipoic acid for 12 weeks. But these researchers were making a distinction that made those 12 weeks suddenly make a different kind of sense. Alpha lipoic acid exists in 2 molecular forms. R and S. The R-form is what the human body produces naturally. Bioidentical. The form that every cell evolved to recognize and use. The form the mitochondria, the energy-producing structures inside every nerve cell, every muscle cell, every cell responsible for how you feel from the moment you wake up, use to neutralize the oxidative stress that accumulates with age and metabolic strain and progressively impairs how efficiently your body runs. The S-form is synthetic. The body doesn't make it. Doesn't recognize it with the same efficiency. And it actively competes with the R-form for the same absorption pathways. Standard alpha lipoic acid supplements use a 50/50 mixture of both. It is cheaper to produce. It is the industry default. It is what fills the bottle I had taken faithfully for 12 weeks. Every capsule had been delivering half its content in a form my cells could barely recognize fighting against the other half for absorption. I had not been giving my body the R-form. I had been giving it a compound that was working against itself before it ever reached the problem. The paper traced back to Germany. To 40 years of clinical work using the pure R-form at 600 milligrams in a fat-based delivery system. To documented outcomes, measurable improvement in nerve function and cellular energy production, that had never entered American mainstream medicine because a naturally occurring molecule cannot be patented and without a patent there is no pharmaceutical investment and without investment the research stays in European journals that no general practitioner in Ohio ever reads. I closed the laptop at 12:40 in the morning. Carol was still asleep on the couch. The television was off. The house was completely quiet. I sat there for a while thinking about 12 weeks of taking the wrong form of the right thing. Not angry. Just very clear about what I needed to do next. I found a pure R-form supplement. Coconut oil softgel, the fat-based delivery matters because the R-form works in both fat and water soluble cellular environments simultaneously, which gives it access to nerve tissue that standard antioxidants cannot reach, but only if the delivery format supports that pathway. 600 milligrams. The dose the research had consistently used. I did not tell Carol what I was starting. I had told her about too many things that hadn't worked and I was not going to ask her to hold hope for something I wasn't sure about yet. I kept everything else exactly the same. Week 3 I woke up on a Wednesday morning and my first thought was not about how I felt. It was about the raised garden bed I had been planning to build for 8 months. I noticed the difference about 30 seconds later. Not a dramatic moment. Just a quiet internal observation that something had shifted in the order of my morning thoughts. Week 5 Carol said something at breakfast that she said carefully the way she says careful things. She said you seem more like yourself lately. I asked her what she meant specifically. She said you've been starting things. The workshop. The garden planning. You've been starting things again. I had not noticed I had been starting things. Week 7 I went to my daughter's house for Sunday dinner. My grandson wanted to play in the backyard after we ate. I went out with him. I did not run. I want to be honest about that. The burning is still present sometimes and I am not back to the man in the video in every way. But I was out there. Moving. Present. Not calculating from a chair whether the yard was worth the cost. My daughter came to the back door at one point and looked at us. She didn't say anything. But she took out her phone. I realized later she was recording it. I found that video from 3 years ago by accident. 2 minutes and 40 seconds of a man who had no idea what the next 3 years would cost him. I am not fully that man again. But I am closer to him than I was in February when I sat on the edge of my bed watching him run across the yard after his grandson on a Sunday afternoon. The distance between who I was and who I became was not age. It was a specific cellular process that had never been addressed at the level where it lived because the one thing that could reach it had never been formulated correctly in anything I tried. That is a solvable problem. Not a life sentence. If you have a video like mine, or a memory that plays the same role, the evidence of who you were before this started, I want you to know the distance between that person and the person you are now may be smaller than it feels. It may simply be one molecular distinction that nobody ever explained to you. It took me 14 months and one late night paper to find it. I wish I had found it in month one.

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Read this if the burning and tingling won't stop 👆

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