Gianluca Pistore - The Secret Of Mind And Body

This is an inspiring and motivating book, that makes you dream: the story of a guy who, after having lost his identity, founded it again thanks to the scrupulous work of two mentors. It’s also an essay about the achievement of full body and mind potentialities.

If you really seek to lost weight and change your life, then turn the page and continue to read since this will be the most important reading of your life.

Make you a real gift, tell yourself: “I must know the Secret, I must to pass on the Secret, I must become the Secret now!"

Follow us. Follow us and you’ll not regret it.

Turn the page and make yours “our” Secret, we’ll see on the other side...

To your success!

Oreste and Gianluca.

“The book making you love ancient truths would be really new and original.”

Vauvenargues

Prologue

That poster obsessing Carlos for months was posted to a shining window of a gym in Rio: "First prize 80 thousand dollars."

Those who were used to live one day to the next, with less than 200 dollars a month, could be only dream that amount. And Good only knows how many poor people living in the favelas of Rocinha were tempted by that amount of money.

Rocinha is a quarter of the Southern area of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

It is one of 700 favelas composing the town of Rio. It’s the biggest favelas in the world and it counts more than 150 thousand of official inhabitants.

As often occurs in the poor quarters, there are fights among different trafficker gangs, the Amigos dos Amigos and the Comando Vermelho, to take the control of the favela.

Carlos was born and grew up in that favelas, always suspended between life and death.

That amount of money could have changed his life.

Carlos had never seen all that money at once and he just needed it.

It was the money necessary to give a kick to his past.

It was thinking about it constantly, day and night.

Finally, he decided to go and ask him, the legendary man, one of whom everybody knows the deeds and nobody dares contradict.

I

I remember that Monday of April. In Rio, it was hot, very hot. It was the typical spring day where people prefers to stay laid down on a beach than to work in their office with the conditioned air. And I remember also that phone call to me in my headquarter, my “Warrior Den", a meeting point for all the iron lovers, for all the old style passionate. "Halo, Himenes, George Himenes’s speaking? The owner of the Muscle and Mind Gym?" Said a faint voice on the other side of the phone.

"Yes." I promptly answered, "Who’s on the phone?"

"I’m Santana, Carlos Santana. I should urgently speak to you. When can I come to meet you?"

"Beh, if you’ve not better things to do, you can come even now, the iron warriors never rest!" I said with vehemence.

It was in this way that I’d known that bizarre guy coming from the favelas.

He was yes and no 60 kg soaking wet and 1, 85 tall.

He was the classic real ectomorph. Slim, with a frail skeleton and underdeveloped muscles. He had narrow shoulders and a long and flat thorax. His weight and the thorax perimeter seemed to be very insufficient compared to the height. Moreover, he had an equal length of the lower and upper limbs.

He seemed undernourished and frightened by the life.

"Then, dear Carlos, how can I help you?"

"Someone told me that you’re able to do miracles with people..."

I immediately stopped him "Guy, attention to the words. Only God does miracles. I simply help the butterfly to exit from the cocoon. Michelangelo sculpted the stone for his works, but the masterpieces were already inside the crude stone. He only smoothed out the edges. Well, this is what I do."

The guy, hesitant, looked at me with barred eyes and added "This is not important for me! I must absolutely win “The Two Americas International Competition”

"Slowly guy, let’s go in good order. I’ve already said you that I don’t do miracles, you would like to win the most important American competition of weightlifter in less than a year starting without any fundamental?" What an exhilarant guy. Maybe he did not see him in a mirror, I would not have permitted him neither to participate to the tournament of arm wrestling of the quarter.

"You don’t understand. I need it. Do you want to help me or not?" said the guy quickly with a rage in his eyes that I’d never seen before.

The first confused moment finished few later: “Guy, you cannot do it, give up. If you want to do some sport I can help you but keep away from your head these stupid paranoias”.

He looked at me with tears in his eyes: “You’re a no-good man! You don’t know nothing about sport! You limit to look at me like I’m now, you don’t manage to imagine me stronger neither to see the rage, the motivation and the pain inside me looking beyond this my body....” He made the sign to say something else, then he turned and walked at a good pace towards the exit.

I called him “Guy! Wait a moment... what would be this great motivation? Then, let me understand... why do you want to win the most important American weightlifter competition? do you want by any chance to demonstrate something to your girlfriend?”

"The victory’s not important for me. I need the prize of 80 thousand dollars to save my younger brother from the street! My brothers and I were born in a very poor family, like many other here in the favelas of Rio. In our favelas, there’re incursions of the police squads, the death battalions, almost every day. I’m trying to keep my younger brother far from the gangs, but it’s difficult. Our father was died in a police raid, he was killed by a stray bullet which was directed to a drug trafficker who lived fifty meters after us. Our mother, after his death, felt in a severe state of depression and she’s not able to maintain all the family. The Saint Francis Missionaries help us but this is not good. I’m trying to earn money working with a carpenter who was my father friend but the wages don’t allow me to enrol to the gym! Some months ago, my brother is entered in a drug trafficker gang under the control of Ramires, one of the most important and ruthless drug traffickers of our favelas." While he was speaking his eyes become like transparent lights, and I was understanding what his heart was felling. He was the embodiment of the sadness of a story like many others. The fists clenched more and more on his legs "I’m trying to explain him that if he continues to do so he will harm only himself and us who love him, but he ignores my suggestions. I’ve tried to talk with his gang but I’ve received warning to not snooping around and, then, a broken nose!" he closed his eyes remembering those disagreeable experiences. "I want win for him and our mother... I want to bring them far from here! And you’re the only who can help me to achieve this goal, you’re the only who had never bowed to the outrages and who is respected by narcos..."

He seemed me different from the usual bullies coming at the gym. "Guy, the life is not easy for everybody. You must know that if I will train you, I will make you sweat other blood. It will be the 10 hardest months of your life. Your mother gave you the life, I will reprogram it. I transform the brats in real men, independently from the age. You will become a man but, before, you shall become a child, cry, ask for piety and nobody will help you. You’ll fight yourself before to be ready to fight with the world. There’ll be nobody to lift you up from the ground. You shall do it by yourself. You shall react and learn how to get up on your legs. I’ll teach you that you shall never give up in the life. You shall never let your guard down, never give up, never get soft. Do you understand, ninos? Are you able to resist to all that?"