Story of Polynesian

I am always amazed when I hear the stories of Polynesians who died of heart failure, diabetes, and even intestinal ailments. My grandfather was very young when he kicked a bucket at the dangerous growth of the colony. My 62-year-old mother now has a long history of chronic illness, joint pain, stroke, and currently suffers from diabetes. Outside of my immediate family, I see various Polynesians getting sick, and I am afraid they will not live to see their grandchildren. So what happened to our relatives, and how can we deal with it?

I will give you seven best tips you can do to live longer, and restore your life from now on, but first I need to teach you a little bit about myself.

I am a Polynesian man in his late thirties. I grew up in New Zealand with parents who cared for six children. I came to the United States in the last half of the nineties to go to class. Later in my senior year of College, I had put on extra weight, about 15lbs. There is nothing wrong with that. As the whole year passed I also gained all the muscle discomfort against fat.

This was strangely unusual for me, as I was really strong and played many breakout games, such as rugby, soccer, tennis and volleyball. I have always been able to be in shape and I was busy collecting deceptive muscles against fat every day. I ignored it for a long time until one day I was flipping through some pictures I had just created. I saw my volume as my back faced the camera. In short I was confused about what that was. I did not see myself. It was humiliating and embarrassing for me to realize that the way I thought, and the way I really looked, had completely changed. Is this what people are seeing?



Now I have bought a few scales to check for damage. Following three years of deportation I gained a solid 246lbs. I was shocked. This was not the most significant part. Then I started to have chest pains, and I got irritated with the wind. I always felt tired. On top of that I looked depressed. So what happened? All things considered, I basically ate some unhealthy foods, at times unacceptable, and a lot of other things.

I decided that I was planning to start a campaign, in order to lose 30lbs, later all that would be fair. I mean, I’m a hard worker, it should be an easy job. So I did what most people do, went out to the neighborhood gym, pursued a participant and fitness trainer, bought all the protein bars, exercise and the enhancements they had suggested. I even picked up a health magazine and bought the things they suggested. As it all figured out I had spent a little money to get started, however this was great as I was really humble.



I went for the next 3 months working with my mentor twice for seven days, and alone four times a week, not working on Sundays. My exercise includes 35-45mins of cardio six days each week and weight training 60 Min’s 5 days a week. At first I started to gain more weight by 4-5lbs every week. I was really strengthened, then, then, little by little, it started to drop to 2lbs a week, then, then, not even once. My adviser told me ‘we want to change your diet a little bit, and work a little harder‘. Accept it when I let you know that I was squeezing my hips to be in good shape. There were days when I was alone at the restaurant at 1.30am doing cardio. The cleaners joked that I was expecting to pay rent when I was there this way.

And later it happened, on my next show day I actually got 2lbs. My trainer assured me that this was a muscle gain, and I should not stress as the scales do not detect muscle gain, fat gain, or muscle misfortune and misfortune otherwise. I was careful because I felt I was in real danger. I couldn’t sit up or compress the leg I could have done in 3 months soon, and I think I’m really gaining muscle, should I not be strong. It didn’t sound right to me. All the things I was thought to have done before I reached the upper limit of our planned preparation program. No matter how much I weighed 227lbs. I was losing 19lbs, not bad, but rather a long distance from my 30lbs goal.

The worst thing about it, that I didn’t look very different, I was just humble. It was disheartening for me to think that I was so tied up with so much dissatisfaction with how I looked. I was still heavy, not clear, and I always felt tired, always more tired than when I was so overweight. Then, at that point, it came to me, the trainers at the training center had taken explicit courses and certificates to help their clients with the status quo. Maybe they were not clear to me in public. I began to pay more attention to the things I ate, the types of food sources, as they meant to me, and even the foods suggested by my trainer that I wholeheartedly believed. Here is what I found.

1. The amount of starch I ate, even the strongest carbohydrates, had an unfriendly effect on me.

2. I was able to concentrate on vegetables and natural products throughout the day but continued to live in poverty.

3. I could eat less than 36g fat a day for a long time and still be fat

4. Eating illegal red meat made me feel stronger and motivated me to exercise more

5. Eating coconut food, foods rich in immersed fats tested my craving, and sped up my fat misfortune

6. Eating a slightly larger supper regularly, gave me incredible energy, despite the accepted notion of eating a modest, endless dinner.

7. Strong grains, such as cereal, and whole wheat bread are reduced b

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