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Stop trading time for rest. Start using light for recovery. The biggest mistake athletes make in 2026? Thinking "recovery" only happens while you’re asleep. What I’m holding here is a Photobiomodulation (PBM) device—and the data behind it is a total game changer for anyone trying to stay on the...

13,225 görüntüleme • 4 ay önce •via X (Twitter)

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MR. POOL WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENS INSIDE YOUR BODY WHEN YOU LIE ON A MEDBED MAT? You don't feel it happening. But at a microscopic level, a massive biological shift is taking place. When you lie down on the MedBed Home Therapy Mat, three specific frequencies penetrate your skin, bypass your bones, and enter your cells. Here is exactly what happens in the next 20 minutes: MINUTE 1-5: THE MITOCHONDRIA REBOOT The 660nm Red Light hits the mitochondria (the engine of your cells). If your cells are damaged or aging, they are struggling to produce energy. The red light forces them to instantly produce ATP (pure cellular energy). Your cells wake up. MINUTE 5-10: THE INFLAMMATION PURGE The 850nm Near-Infrared light goes deeper. It penetrates up to 8mm into your tissue, reaching muscles, joints, and organs. It triggers the release of nitric oxide, which dilates your blood vessels. Blood flow surges. Deep-tissue inflammation is flushed out. MINUTE 10-20: THE VOLTAGE SPIKE The PEMF (Pulsed Electromagnetic Field) activates. Healthy cells operate at 70mV. Sick, inflamed cells operate at 20mV. The PEMF recharges the electrical membrane of every cell in your body, spiking the voltage back to 70mV. At 70mV, your body stops surviving and starts regenerating. You don't swallow a pill. You don't inject a chemical. You just give your body the exact frequencies it needs to repair itself. Day 1: Sleep architecture deepens. Day 7: Joint stiffness and brain fog begin to clear. Day 14: Cellular regeneration is in full effect. Your body is a self-healing machine. It just lost its power source. Plug it back in. 📷📷📷 📷

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🚀 My New Book is Here: Data Strategy (3rd Edition) 🚀 I’m thrilled to share the release of my latest bestselling book, Data Strategy: How to Use Data and Artificial Intelligence to Transform Your Business. Every business today needs data to survive - but simply having data is not enough. What matters is how you use it. A well-designed data strategy is the key to unlocking value, driving insights, and giving your organisation the competitive edge it needs to thrive in the digital economy. From small organisations to global enterprises, I’ve seen first-hand how a data-driven approach can transform operations, improve decision-making, and unlock entirely new opportunities. That’s why I’ve poured my experience into this book — to help leaders and teams build strategies that don’t just talk about data, but actually deliver measurable impact. 🔍 In this third edition, I’ve expanded the book to reflect the latest developments in data and AI, including: ✅ Generative AI and its role in shaping business innovation. ✅ Synthetic data and how it can accelerate AI adoption. ✅ The potential of quantum computing and what it means for the future of data. ✅ Expanded guidance on cybersecurity, regulations, and ethics in a data-driven world. This isn’t just a theoretical framework - it’s a practical guide to collecting, managing, and using data effectively in order to drive growth, innovation, and long-term success. Whether you’re leading a start-up or a multinational, Data Strategy will equip you with the tools you need to stay ahead in a rapidly evolving landscape. 📖 Pre-order your copy today: 👉 Amazon - 👉 Kogan Page - I can’t wait to hear how this book helps you craft your own data-driven strategy and transform your business for the future.

Bernard Marr

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Back massage is not only a relaxing practice, but also an effective support method for the musculoskeletal system and neurohormonal balance. In daily life, the back area is one of the areas where the most tension accumulates due to posture, stress, and muscle strain. The controlled pressure applied during the massage provides relaxation in muscle fibers, increases regional blood circulation, and supports oxygenation to the tissues. This process also reduces muscle spasms, contributing to the alleviation of pain. Physiologically, the effects of massage are not only local. Systemic effects such as a decrease in stress hormones like cortisol, an increase in endorphin and serotonin levels, and an increase in parasympathetic activity in the autonomic nervous system provide both physical and mental relaxation. The most frequently observed benefits are: Reduced muscle stiffness, relief from back and neck pain, improved circulation, improved sleep quality, general relaxation, and reduced stress. Incorrect technique or excessive pressure can lead to: trauma to muscle tissue, increased existing pain, and soft tissue damage. Situations requiring attention: Acute muscle injuries, serious spinal pathologies, infections, or febrile conditions. In such cases, an assessment should be made before applying massage. In summary, the effectiveness of massage comes not from the intensity of the pressure, but from the correctness of the application. Therefore, it is very important to have massages performed in places where the correct application is carried out.

Op. Dr. Mehmet Bekir Şen

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You Can Heal Yourself With Nature Movement - By moving our body we give strength to our muscles, promote blood flow and lymphatic flow enhancing the delivery of nutrients and the removal of waste products. We also create a piezoelectric effect that energises the system. Breathing - The delivery of air into the body through intentional conscious breathing is one of the most powerful modalities for nervous system renewal, mental peace and the delivery of oxygen to the body and the removal of carbonic acid buildup from the system Sunshine - It’s my belief that the more sunlight we absorb without sunscreen, the healthier we will become. A tan looks good because it is healthy and every part of your body thrives when sunlight touches it delivering blood flow as well as a high frequency and energy Grounding - Existing in connection with the earth’s electrical fields resets everything about our energy, reduces inflammation and promotes the movement of proper channels such as detox - it’s a fantastic practice to be connected to nature. Green light - When sunlight moves through trees and leaves we receive Green light by which is very healing and high in near infrared light, in fact it is one of the most healing modalities to absorb in your skin particularly if you have any abrasions or wounds - even more powerful than red light . Fresh air - The first nutrient, having fresh air that is rich in oxygen is absolutely imperative to health and you should always have all of your windows open in the house if possible when not outside. Positive thinking - Whatever you think, shall become and having and cultivating a positive mindset that intentionally brings you positive energy is one of the cornerstones to great health. You can think yourself into sickness and you can think yourself into health so choose to view the world in a positive light and so it’ll be for you.

⚡️🌞 Sol Brah 🌞🐬

14,430 görüntüleme • 24 gün önce

I have not seen enough about the decision from Mike Vrabel and Tim Kelly to go for 2 down by 8 last night. Here’s why I loved it: 1) NFL teams this season have been successful on 55% of two-point conversion attempts. The odds were in the Titans’ favor. 2) Will Levis was dealing in the 2nd half. 3) Titans still had all three timeouts and the two-minute warning. 4) Miami struggled to move the ball on offense all night. Their three scoring drives went for 12, 7, and 59 yards. 5) If successful on the two-point conversion, a stop on defense and a TD wins the game. If unsuccessful, you can still send it to OT. 6) Titans offense marched down the field, scored the TD to make it a one possession game and essentially told Miami, “we are going for two because we know you cannot stop us right now.” The odds are in your favor. It’s a good mathematical decision. You want to psych out an opposing offense? Give them the ball knowing they need to run the clock out, or you are going to have a chance to WIN the game, not send it to overtime. They saw what your offense just did to their defense. They saw your QB on the sideline screaming and hyping everyone up. Cutting the lead to six put WAY more pressure on the Dolphins offense. You want to hype up your defense? Put them back on the field knowing your offense just did their job. Put them back on the field knowing a stop and a TD wins it. At that point, they aren’t in the mindset of “we need a stop to have a chance to go to OT.” They are thinking, “let’s go out here, get a stop, and give our offense a chance to WIN.” There’s a fundamental difference in playing to WIN and playing NOT to LOSE. This was a decision by a coaching staff that was playing to WIN. Brilliant game by Vrabel and Kelly. Brilliant execution late in the game by the offense and the defense. Completely out-coached one of the best offensive minds in the game. #Titans

Jake!

36,853 görüntüleme • 2 yıl önce

Normalise RDL as a main movement. The Romanian Deadlift (RDL) or Heavy Barbell Hip Hinge is a powerhouse exercise that has gained a lot of popularity among strength and conditioning coaches, powerlifters, and bodybuilders alike. This movement is often called an “athlete maker" in my mind due to its ability to build strength, muscle mass, and athleticism in both men and women. One of the primary reasons why the RDL is so effective for athletes is because it is triphasic, for the uninitiated meaning it involves three distinct phases of muscle action: eccentric, isometric, and concentric. During the eccentric phase, the lifter is lowering the weight, which creates tension and stress on the muscles, leading to greater muscle damage and adaptation. The isometric phase occurs when the lifter pauses at the bottom of the lift, holding the weight in a static position, which increases the time under tension and helps to build strength and stability. Finally, during the concentric phase, the lifter raises the weight, activating the muscles in a way that promotes greater hypertrophy. Compared to a traditional deadlift off the floor, the RDL places a greater emphasis on the posterior chain, specifically the proximal hamstring, glutes, and erector spinae muscles. The lift also engages the distal hamstring muscles in a nearly fully extended position, promoting greater muscle activation and strengthening. The RDL is an excellent way to develop strength and hypertrophy in these muscle groups, leading to improved overall athletic performance, including greater power, speed, and explosiveness. Given the numerous benefits of the RDL, it should be a main movement in any training program that aims to improve strength, muscle mass, and overall athletic performance. Incorporating heavy barbell hip hinge movements, such as the RDL, into your training regimen can help to promote better posture, improved mobility, and greater overall strength and athleticism. So, whether you are a powerlifter, bodybuilder, or athlete, consider adding the RDL to your training program to take your strength and athleticism to the next level.

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Avail

351,950 görüntüleme • 2 yıl önce

Lads. Sit down and give me your ear a while, for I have watched from the water long enough and the hour is upon us whether we have the stomach for it or not. You remember. Or your fathers told you, or their fathers did, and the knowledge of it is in the marrow of you whether you drew breath in those days or not. The moors in the grey hour before dawn. Wet heather soft under the boot. Peat smoke rising from a low stone chimney a mile out across the bog, thin as a prayer. A sky the colour of a gun barrel and the gulls lamenting above the headland. The smell of turf burning, and wet wool, and the ferrous tang of the sea when the wind swung around out of the Atlantic and put the taste of iron on your tongue. A man could walk that land and know every stone of it was his by inheritance, because his grandfather had broken his back upon it, and his grandfather before him, back through the generations until you reach men whose names are lost and whose bones are in the soil you are standing on. The potato fields. God be good to us, the potato fields. Lazy beds cut straight as a gunwale, the ridges black and shining after a night of rain, women bent double with creels lashed to their backs and the children at their skirts, drawing the crop up by the hand for there was never any other means devised nor wanted. Hands split open at the knuckles and never entirely healed in this life. Hunger within living memory. Grandmothers who had seen the blight with their own eyes and would not speak of it from the year of it until the day they were laid down, save that a crust was kept always on the dresser which no soul in that house was permitted to touch. Not ever. Not for any reason under heaven. And the chimney sweeps. Wee lads no heavier than a sack of meal, black to the bone with soot, their lungs ruined before they were old enough to marry and old men entirely by thirty. Up the flues at first light, the skin worn off them by the brick, eyes crimson at the rim, breathing the black in with every draw of air. And the coal miners a half mile beneath our feet, down in the wet dark, the roof of the world muttering over their heads, the canary gone silent, a man's whole existence measured out in the shilling a ton and the dust he carried home in his chest to cough up of a Sunday morning into a rag. Fathers who descended and were never hauled up again. Widows at the pit head with the shawl drawn over the head and no tears remaining in them for they had spent those long ago. That was the tariff paid to keep the hearth lit. That was the reckoning of being warm in winter in the Ireland that was. And after the labouring week, Friday evening, and a man had earned the peace of what followed. Home first. Peeled the day off him in the yard. A shower of ice cold moor river water out of a tin bucket punctured with holes, hung on a nail on the gable wall, the water running clean down the back of him and carrying the week's dust and sweat away into the drain. Scrubbed till the skin was pink beneath the grime. Clean shirt laid out by the wife. The hair combed down with a drop of water. Then, and only then, did a man set himself to the table. A meat pie from the baker, tenpence if he was known to you, a shilling and no change if he was not, put down upon a proper plate. Fish and chips for threepence, the salt and vinegar soaked through the newspaper, but carried home and ate slowly at your own table with your people around you, not walked with through the streets like some vagrant tinker off the road. A man ate as a man who had earned his portion, for he had. And later, with the dishes cleared and the kettle set, down the road to the tavern. Low beams black with a century of smoke. A turf fire muttering in the grate. The air thick with pipe smoke and the vapour of wet overcoats steaming themselves dry on the backs of chairs. A pint of stout, cold and black as a cove at midnight, elevenpence laid down on the counter, a head on it thick enough to strike a match upon. A second one because you had it coming to you and no man present would dispute it. A fiddle starting up in the corner of its own accord. The old men in the snug who remembered matters the history books had long since mislaid. A song before the bolt was thrown on the door. The walk home beneath a firmament crowded with stars, the stout warm in the gut of you, the week behind you, and your own door waiting with the latch unlocked for you had no enemies in that parish. That was the country. That was the covenant. Honest labour, plain food, a cold wash, a hot meal, a cold pint, your own tongue in your own mouth, your own soil beneath your boots, and no man standing above you save the Almighty Himself. Now regard her. Regard her close. The fields disposed of to men who have never set foot upon them and never shall. The harbours signed away by the stroke of a pen in a room you were not admitted to, and foreign keels dragging out of our waters the living that sustained this island for a thousand years, while our own boats rot at their moorings for want of a quota. The tradesmen undercut by imported labour and imported goods. The shops shuttered along every main street from Donegal to Cork. The young ones scattered to London and Sydney and Boston and the Gulf because there is nothing remaining for them beneath their own roof. And the entirety of this rotten arrangement dressed up in the soft mannerly language of progress by men in towers of glass who could not tell a lazy bed from a grave, nor a trawler from a tugboat, nor an honest day's work from a pension plan. And now they arrive with the next imposition. A digital identity. A number assigned to each soul. A card required to buy your bread. A code required to draw your own earnings out of your own account. A file kept on every man, woman and child from the cradle forward. Permission asked to move. Permission asked to speak. Permission asked to earn. A levy upon every breath drawn and a regulation upon every step taken. No. And no again. And no for a third time so there is no misunderstanding of it. We do not require your digital identity. We did not request it. We did not vote upon it. We do not consent to it. We do not need your permission to exist upon the soil our forefathers are buried in. We are a free people. We have carried ourselves this far upon our own two backs. Through famine and empire and civil war and black lung and blight and the emigrant ship out of Cobh, we have come this distance under our own steam, and the arrangement appears to be serving us well enough without your intervention. We buried our own. We fed our own. We raised our own roofs and took our own fish and reared our own children in our own tongue. We are in your debt for nothing. Not a signature. Not a biometric scan. Not a single solitary inch. And while we are upon the subject, let us speak plainly of the tax man, for he has gone too long without proper introduction. The tax collector and the tax man are the one article under two names, and the article is a parasite. There is no dressing it up finer than that. A man who produces nothing, who grows nothing, who catches nothing, who builds nothing, who mends nothing, who has never in his professional life lifted anything heavier than a pen, and who arrives at your door with the full apparatus of the state at his back to carry off the fruits of labour he did not perform. He is a middleman between your sweat and some scheme dreamt up in a committee room by his own kind, and the great majority of what he takes is consumed by the machinery of the taking itself before ever a penny of it reaches the road or the hospital or the schoolhouse he claims to be funding. And I will go further while I have the floor. Finance itself, the whole apparatus of it, money breeding money in the dark without a hand laid upon a tool or a spade turned in the earth, is slavery dressed in a good suit. It is the oldest swindle known to man and it has never been anything other. A man who produces nothing yet lives off the productive labour of others through the charging of interest upon money conjured out of nothing is a parasite of a rarer and more refined order than the tax man, but a parasite all the same, and between the pair of them they have the working people of this island bled white and lectured at for the pleasure. A man who will not work with his hands, nor with his back, nor with his mind at some honest problem of the real physical world, is no man that I recognise. He is a ledger entry in a suit. The country was not built by ledger entries. The country was built by farmers and fishermen and masons and smiths and sweeps and miners and shipwrights and midwives and mothers, and those are the people whose say should carry in her councils, and no other. Here is what I put to you. Let each man and woman of this island direct the first tenth of their earnings themselves, by their own judgement, to the purpose they see as worthy. The school down the road. The lifeboat station. The hospice. The widow on the corner. The roof of the chapel. The harbour wall. Whatever it may be. Let the people who earned the money decide where the money travels. You will find the roads mended and the ports dredged and the schools standing and the old ones cared for inside of five years, and done better and for less, because the hand that earned the coin knows the weight of it and will not squander it upon consultants and committees. And let us have done with the paper currency and the numbers in a screen that can be frozen at the whim of a clerk in a tower. Bring back the coin. Gold for the great transactions. Silver for the weekly commerce of a working life. Copper for the small change of the day. Metal you can bite. Metal you can weigh. Metal that cannot be conjured out of nothing by a keystroke, nor erased out of existence by another. Real money for real labour. A coin in the hand is a free man's wage. A number in a database is a collar around a free man's neck, and they are fitting that collar now while we stand arguing over the colour of it. Feel it in your gut. That is not nothing. That is your blood relating to you what your ears will not hear. That is every forebear who starved and fought and coughed the black dust into a rag and descended the shaft regardless, standing at your shoulder and saying no further. Not one more field. Not one more harbour. Not one more son upon a plane. Not one more free man converted into a number in a ledger for the convenience of the parasites. This is the hour. Make no error about it. Ireland is redeemed in this generation or she is lost beyond recovery, and every true son and daughter of her knows it in the marrow. There is no middle ground remaining. There is no waiting it out. There is standing now, upon your own two feet, or there is watching her go under the waves for the last and final time. So stand. Stand with your farmers. Stand with your fishermen. Stand with your tradesmen and your miners and your sweeps and your mothers and your old ones. Raise the tricolour. Speak the tongue. Walk the land. Hold the line in the streets of every town and city and do not break it, for they are relying upon you to break and to go home and to forget by Tuesday. She is calling her children home. Every stone of her, every breaker on her western shore, every acre of wet heather and every coal in every hearth the length and breadth of her is calling. Answer her. Take her back. Every field, every harbour, every last inch of her. Take her back, or lose her entirely. There is no third road open to us.

SiriusB

15,437 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce