How Do You lose weight quickly?
How to get rid of all your body weight quickly and had a perfect body shaped with these simple guide.100%safety and secured.
Everyone wants to lose weight without dieting right? It sounds like a dream come true… but in reality it’s probably the best way to lose weight because diets DON’T work. If they did no one would be struggling with their weight and there wouldn’t be loads of new diet books being released year after year.
You can watch a video that will explain what I'm about to say in this post if you'd like to save time. I'll be walking you through a few things you can do to get rid of all your body weight in this post, but first >> To view the weight reduction video that has benefited my wife, my wife's family, and a lot of friends, >>CLICK HERE<< to watch video.
The sections that follow examine particular strategies for reducing body weight.
Take the focus away from food: When you’re on a diet or desperately trying to lose weight, it seems like your world revolves around food and it’s all you think about. What foods you can have, what foods you can’t have, how many calories you’re consuming, what you’ll be able to eat at the restaurant you’re going to and what time your next meal will be, etc? It sort of takes over your life. Let go of this focus and focus on other healthy habits such as getting enough sleep, drinking enough water, taking your daily vitamins, etc. Food is important, but don’t give it more importance than it needs. Once you stop thinking about food all time, you tend to eat less without it being a struggle.
Work on other aspects of your life: Make a list of all the areas of your life, including your work, your romantic relationship, your friendships, your family, your interests, etc. Choose a few things that you truly want to work on or explore after you have this list. Choose a few things that make you happy, then make a plan to think about them every day. During my health coaching training at IIN, I learnt about this aspect of weight loss, and I was recently reminded of it when conversing with my friend Abby of Eat Work Play Balanced. It's remarkable how finding balance in these other areas of your life can make you happier, reduce stress, and regulate your eating.
Have more fun: Don’t let food (or alcohol) be the fun in your life. For instance, if the only thing you have to look forward to after work is dinner, change that! There’s so much more to life than food and eating shouldn’t be a hobby. Find something fun that you enjoy and do it often. Food can and should be enjoyable and some meals are super exciting (especially for foodies), but you need other areas of enjoyment in your life as well.
Avoid Processed Foods: Processed foods are usually high in added sugars, added fats and calories. What’s more, processed foods are engineered to make you eat as much as possible. They are much more likely to cause addictive-like eating than unprocessed foods.
Drink (Unsweetened) Green Tea: Green tea is a natural beverage that is loaded with antioxidants. Drinking green tea is linked with many benefits, such as increased fat burning and weight loss.
Green tea may increase energy expenditure by 4% and increase selective fat burning by up to 17%, especially harmful belly fat.
Matcha green tea is a variety of powdered green tea that may have even more powerful health benefits than regular green tea.
Limit Your Intake of Added Sugar: Eating a lot of added sugar is linked with some of the world’s leading diseases, including heart disease, type 2 diabetes and cancer. On average, Americans eat about 15 teaspoons of added sugar each day. This amount is usually hidden in various processed foods, so you may be consuming a lot of sugar without even realizing it.
Since sugar goes by many names in ingredient lists, it can be very difficult to figure out how much sugar a product actually contains.
Minimizing your intake of added sugar is a great way to improve your diet… Learn more
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9 Effective Tips to Lose Belly Fat (Backed by Science)
In this post I will be taking you through a few things that you can do to lose all your belly fat but before we get on to that if you like to save time by watching a video that will explain what I'm about to explain here you can simply >>CLICK HERE<< to go and watch the weight loss/burn belly fat video that has helped both me and many of friends…
By Health tips 3 years ago in Longevity
$17,344! Or Would You Prefer A Nice Coffee Instead?
We’ve all heard the Victorian proverb ‘look after the pennies and the pounds will take care of themselves.’ This is of course, sound advice. But it was also written during a time when mass consumerism was in it’s infancy.
By Simon Aylwarda day ago in Lifehack
Solitary Reign
In a valley hidden beyond maps and memory, where mountains stood like ancient guardians and clouds drifted low enough to kiss the earth, there once lived a ruler with no court, no crown of gold, and no cheering crowd to speak his name. His kingdom was vast, yet unseen. His throne was carved not from marble but from quiet endurance. And his reign was solitary. He was not born into royalty. No banners fluttered at his arrival, no trumpets announced his destiny. Instead, he was born into ordinary hours and humble surroundings, where life moved slowly and expectation rested lightly on young shoulders. But even as a child, there was something distant in his gaze—something inward. While others chased games in the sunlit fields, he often wandered alone toward the hills. There, he would sit beneath the wide sky and listen—not to voices, but to silence. The silence did not frighten him. It spoke in its own way, telling him truths that noise could never carry. Years passed, and the world beyond the valley grew louder. Cities rose, ambitions sharpened, and people hurried toward crowns of their own making. Friends left in search of glory. Some returned wearing titles; others never returned at all. He remained. The villagers would sometimes whisper about him. “Why does he choose to live apart?” they would ask. “Why does he not seek power or praise?” But they did not understand that he already possessed both—though in a form they could not see. His power was mastery over his own mind. His praise was the quiet approval of his conscience. He built no castle, yet he constructed something far stronger: discipline. Each morning before dawn, he would rise and walk to the highest ridge overlooking the valley. There he would stand as the sun climbed slowly into the sky, bathing the world in gold. In that hour, he trained his thoughts as a warrior trains with a blade. Doubts would come like challengers, whispering of loneliness, of missed opportunities, of roads not taken. He would meet each one calmly. “I reign here,” he would say within himself. And the doubts would fade. Solitude, for many, is a prison. For him, it was a kingdom. Yet even solitary rulers face trials. One winter, the valley endured a season harsher than any before. Snow buried the fields, and icy winds carved through wood and bone alike. Supplies grew thin. Fear crept into homes like an unwelcome guest. The villagers, once skeptical of the quiet man on the hill, now found themselves seeking his counsel. They climbed to his simple dwelling, expecting indifference or hesitation. Instead, they found readiness. He descended with them into the struggling valley—not as a king above his people, but as a servant among them. He organized the sharing of resources, calmed rising disputes, and reminded them that fear multiplies when fed but shrinks when faced. “You have more strength than you believe,” he told them. His voice was steady, not loud. It carried the authority of someone who had conquered storms within long before confronting those without. Through the long winter nights, he walked from home to home, ensuring no fire burned out completely. He spoke little of himself, and nothing of sacrifice. Service was not a burden; it was simply the natural extension of his reign. For what is a kingdom if not responsibility? When spring finally broke the icy grip of winter, gratitude blossomed across the valley. The villagers began to see him differently. No longer merely the quiet wanderer, he became a symbol of resilience. They offered him leadership formally—an official title, a council seat, a voice in every decision. He considered it. Power, when offered publicly, tempts even the disciplined. It promises influence, recognition, legacy. But he understood a truth few ever grasp: A crown can weigh heavier than chains. He declined gently. “My reign,” he said, “does not require a throne.” The villagers did not fully understand, but they respected his choice. They learned from him in smaller ways—rising earlier, complaining less, listening more. Years continued their quiet march. As age touched his hair with silver, the valley changed again. Children grew into adults who had never known the valley without him. They would see him standing on the ridge at sunrise and feel a strange comfort, as though the mountains themselves had taken human form. Yet solitude never left him. Though he walked among others when needed, his truest conversations were still held in silence. He would sit by the river at dusk, watching water slip over stone, reflecting on the nature of reign. Most rulers govern others. Few govern themselves. He had faced anger and refused its rule. He had faced envy and dismissed its whisper. He had encountered sorrow and allowed it to pass through him without building a throne of despair. This was his empire: the disciplined heart. But even the strongest reign must one day end. One evening, as the sky burned with the colors of a fading sun, he felt a deep stillness settle over him. It was not illness nor fear—it was completion. He walked once more to the highest ridge. The valley below glowed softly in twilight. Smoke rose peacefully from chimneys. Laughter drifted faintly upward. He smiled. Not because he had ruled them. But because he had ruled himself. A young boy from the village, curious and bold, had followed him up the path. The boy had long admired the solitary figure and carried within him many questions. “Why do you always come here alone?” the boy asked. The old man turned, his eyes gentle. “To remember,” he said. “To remember what?” “That strength begins in silence. That leadership begins in self-control. That before you seek to command the world, you must first understand your own mind.” The boy pondered this. “Will I have to live alone to be strong?” The old man shook his head. “No. Solitude is not about isolation. It is about knowing who you are when no one is watching.” The wind moved softly through the tall grass, carrying the scent of earth and sky. “Will you always reign here?” the boy asked. The old man looked toward the horizon. “My reign was never over the land,” he said quietly. “It was over fear.” That night, beneath a canopy of stars, the valley slept peacefully. And upon the ridge, where he had stood countless mornings before, the solitary ruler closed his eyes for the last time. There was no grand procession. No carved monument. But his influence lingered—in the discipline of those who rose early, in the calm of those who faced hardship without panic, in the courage of those who listened before speaking. The valley did not inherit a king. It inherited a standard. Years later, when storms rolled across the mountains or when doubt crept into young hearts, the villagers would recall the quiet figure who needed no crown. They would whisper to themselves: “Reign first within.” And somewhere in the vast silence of memory, his presence would remain—not as a shadow, but as a steady light. For true sovereignty is not measured by territory conquered or voices silenced. It is measured by impulses mastered. By storms endured without surrender. By the ability to stand alone without feeling empty. His reign had been solitary. But its impact was shared. And so the valley thrived—not under the rule of a king, but under the legacy of a man who understood that the greatest throne is the one built inside the soul. Long after his footsteps faded from the ridge, the mountains still stood. The sun still rose. The river still flowed. And in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, where doubt once tried to claim dominion, there echoed the wisdom of a solitary reign: Strength does not demand applause. Power does not require a crown. And the truest kingdom is the one you rule when you are alone.
By The best writer 2 days ago in Lifehack
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNA3 days ago in Fiction
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