Tag Archives: Julia Roberts

August Osage County: The Fall of Woman

august osage countyHoly Hannah. Can you spell d-y-s-f-u-n-c-t-i-o-n and m-i-s-e-r-y?

I want to think the main characters in August: Osage County are just cinematic creations—the vitriolic pill-popping Violet and her three daughters—tight-jawed, unforgiving Barbara, quietly wounded, faithful Ivy, New Age escapist Karen. But no.

The film induced too many pangs of recognition, reminders of my own alcoholic step-father and his verbal abuse; the unhappy weirdness of so many of my friends’ parents growing up; Mommy Dearest sitting on book shelves; alcohol and drug abuse statistics; news stories. And from the murmurs, gasps and reactions of the audience it seemed pretty much everyone else in the theater was personally affected too.

“I always wondered if my mother killed my father,” the middle-aged woman behind me stated calmly to her seat-mate as the credits rolled. Really?

“I always knew I’m fucked-up because of my mother,” another woman said, strolling past on her way to the door.

“Holy crap.” Francesca, the friend I’d gone to the film with, turned to me, eyes wide. “Is the world really like this?”

Is it? I’d like to know! Comments please!

For sure the film drives home the point of just how much pain there is locked up in human beings—and how suffering, meanness and abuse are passed from one generation to the next. The sins of the fathers and mothers as it were—not “sin” as in doing bad and wrong, but sin as in missing the mark on life—relentlessly passed from one generation to the next, century after century until?

Until we get to see it.

Sin was originally an archery term that meant you “missed the mark” or bulls eye—your targeted goal. And what is the targeted goal of life anyway? Being a better person? Figuring out how it all works? Having fun? Contributing to the wellbeing of the whole? Having interesting experiences? If so, surely we’re ready to stop seeing this kind of experience as interesting? Like, maybe soon we’ll have had our fill of meanness and sorrow and be ready to call these kinds of people and their drama-filled lives “boring?”

But until that happens audiences will pay to see stories like these. It’s what theatre was designed to do from the most ancient times.

Stories let us witness ourselves. They let us stand (and sit!) safely outside our pain and see how it contaminates and ruins everything—how we unconsciously contaminate and ruin everything—how the bleakness that rules so much of our lives happens. The camera zooms into Violet’s face as she sits on the swing telling the story of her mother’s Christmas present to her and we get it. We can’t hate her. We want to, just like her daughters and everyone else around her want to. But she is us. Her story is our story, tirelessly passed along—the story of the ravening dark Goddess that lives in us all; the maddened Goddess that shows herself most clearly through women.

Beyond doubt, August: Osage County is a story of the Fall of Woman and what has happened to her. The men, who clearly are not without their flaws, mostly move around as loving foils enduring abuse. Even Violet’s husband’s suicide occurs off-screen. It isn’t important. It’s simply the kind of normal fall-out that happens when The Feminine is too deeply wounded to care about anything or anyone anymore.

The image of The Feminine we enjoy seeing and being around does not live in this film. The light side of the Goddess is beautiful, lyrical, self-sacrificing, loving, passionate, compassionate and inspiring—like Arwen, the elven beloved of Aragorn in Lord of the Rings. In Violet we see the opposite. Here She is the equivalent of the Orc and the Uruk-hai—the fallen elves, tortured and mutilated beyond endurance until they become a force for evil.

The blessing of August: Osage County is that here evil has a human face on it and we are able to see Violet is not evil at all, just wounded. We are able to see what pain does—how it looks, what it says, how it lashes out—and finally have compassion. We see the light, love, beauty and hope in us all—the young woman in Violet’s wedding picture—marred and twisted into unrecognizability and we feel for her and feel for ourselves.

It’s not an easy movie to watch. But then life is not an easy movie to live. And in both there is hope. One day all of us will get in a truck in our pajamas and move on.

The Eat, Pray, Love… Disenchantment of Today

It’s a beautiful dream – to travel the world and find what brings you happiness through food, wine, romance and prayer. How many people read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, wanting to jump on the next plane to anywhere that would take them out of their own world of disenchantment.

So many people are in marriages today that don’t fulfill them, where nothing seems to make sense anymore. Have you noticed? Yet, few have the courage to leave and search for what is calling out to them, as Liz did. She recognized the disconnection wasn’t about her husband – it was something going on inside her – and so she began walking toward that new world, while still offering love to the man she was walking away from. 

The Eat, Pray, Love feeling of discontent is happening today – not because people are selfish or aren’t willing to work on their partnership, but because it’s time to awaken to a deeper quest.
Consider if it’s possible that Liz became unhappy because she was being guided to a life that had more meaning, one that could give her a greater sense of fulfillment.  If you don’t have love within yourself, it’s difficult, if not impossible to give it to another. Often a partner can have this victim stance of – ‘how could you do this to me,’ when it could be the very best thing that could happen for both of them.  

When we have given ourselves agreement to look at the cause of our unhappiness, unlikely messengers begin to appear in our lives.  For Liz it was Richard, the Texan confidant she met in an Indian Ashram, “… If you want to get to the castle, you need to swim the moat.”  In other words, she would have to do a bit of soul searching within herself – another reflection not too many people are wont to do.

Even so, more and more people today are feeling that tug in the heart, that notice we are sent, when something wants to change.  It can feel pretty uncomfortable, and still, many will choose to live with it over dealing with change of any kind.  Making a decision to leap into unknown territory can be frightening but it’s where untold treasures await each person willing to cross that great divide.

The good news is… we don’t have to travel the globe to reach that castle, the journey can begin in your very own home.  Numerous people, myself included, have found that once a commitment is made to discover what your soul wants to show you, those ‘unlikely messengers’ begin arriving from everywhere to help you swim that divide. 

Once you make sacred space in your heart and in your home to allow this infinite guidance in, it can happen through even as simple a practice as breathing deep with an inner focus. When it’s time to discover that rich field of awareness – it will be there – for every person wanting to know…  without even needing to travel to an ashram in India or a healer in Bali. 

Eat, Pray, Love could be your ‘unlikely messenger’.  If it’s time to take that journey now, don’t worry, you don’t have to begin by leaving your partner.  Just take the first step and find what that disenchantment is really trying to tell you.  Close your eyes… breathe deep… make a request… and get ready to discover the truly amazing travels that are coming your way.


“Eat, Pray, Love”… Nartikki Enjoyed The Same Journey

During a very sad time in my life….my Mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The C word alone was devastation. I was young for my age of 20 something, a Pollyanna at heart and I wasn’t prepared to face the world alone, without my Mother, who was only 19 years older than me and my best loving friend. 

 Bedridden in a hospital, she was so frail and unable to eat; I too had stopped eating. She looked at me with a playful glint in her eyes, “Christmas is coming, you must go away, you can’t watch this anymore.  I promise I’ll be here when you get back.”

 Following her request, I went to Italy for the holidays. Friends nurtured my saddened spirit, and just like she promised, she waited until the day I came home  to make her departure from this earth plane.

 My praying quest began…with a trip to the Far East; including a trip to an ashram in India…to find  myself…to make sense of life. I was given the name, Nartikki, which in Sanskrit means ‘Great dancer of Life’,  by the amazing spiritual teacher I met there.  After my stay in the Ashram I went to Singapore and on to Bali.  I found love there, not of the romantic nature as in "Eat, Pray, Love"…but rather a sweetness and love for the people and the culture. And ultimately for myself.

 I wrote a book “Nartikki” that was filled with adventure, silliness, and profound connections of the heart.  Watching "Eat, Pray, Love"…obviously there were some parallels: same countries, same quest to find one’s core essence, the purpose for being here on this planet. The question that went around in my head, “Who am I and what am I doing here?”  It did get answered for me. I had a profound awakening of connecting with my true nature and the Oneness we all share.

 The most authentic parts of the movie for me were some of the travelogue scenes, ;the Indian children banging on the taxicab. I too had been on the same ride to the same Ashram.   Also the vistas in Bali, the wise man, the rice paddies jarred a remembering.

The book Nartikki was turned into a screenplay and I contemplated how to make it without sounding preachy, spewing words of wisdom that had been shared along the journey. The fact it was a travelling journey, we would meet new people along the way, but the interconnections would be minimal and it would be in three countries. Part one, two and three. Would I want a narration? Often they are dreadful. 

 "Eat, Pray, Love " is a great premise, but the movie suffered from the same considerations I referred to, and other disjointed continuities. As a writer and filmmaker I know the difficulties of mounting a film with a message. In summation, the book outshines the film., as is the case with many screen adaptations.  It lacked heart, emotional connection for me. The Ashram scenes…lacked the essence of the magic that happens., even the chanting was strained. The scenes in Italy with the camaraderie of friends rang so true. And to do nothing is an art form the Italians have mastered.

 Would I recommend the movie? Yes, I would, not because it was so entertaining, but for the lessons. We need to step out of the limited beliefs that keep us from living a full life.  And, we need to take risks to find out ‘who and what we truly are’. Even if the movie shouted "all about me", the bigger view is all about us connecting to self-love, the eternal connection. To understand the depth of love’s power, the journey of discovery will take many forms. And, some lead to romantic love that also can lead to unconditional love of all sentient beings.

My new book “Bounce Off the Walls – Land On Your Feet” is due for September release.  How to ‘Morph Havoc and Hassles into Harmony and Happiness leads us on a transformational quest from the ‘inside-out’.




A Movie Review of “Eat, Pray, Love”– From Someone Who Has Read And Loved The Book

I recall being drawn to the simple and somewhat whimsical cover of Eat Pray Love— the book, when it first came out in 2006, during one of my jaunts to the bookstore. 

Once I started reading it, I could not stop. I went through the whole book in all of two sittings, as I am sure, most people did. I cannot help but take great delight in the fact that I had loudly proclaimed to one of my dear friends back then, that this book will be made into a movie one day! 

Thank fully for the lot of us who are smitten by the book, Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir did in fact take the shape of a movie, due to the creative genius of writer/producer Ryan Murphy. It happens quite often that books that were totally enchanting, inevitably leave something to be desired when taking on the avatar of the silver screen. However, despite a few alterations and edits from the book, the movie is as powerful as the memoir was.

The fact that Julia Roberts was chosen to play Elizabeth Gilbert, was enough to make people sit up and take notice of this movie. And true to form, Julia Roberts is quite simply- Unforgettable. The movie begins with an exploration of the deep, visceral frustration of a 30 something, utterly conflicted woman, caught in the middle of an unhappy marriage. A marriage she had pined and planned for, as most women do, most of their adult lives. We watch this character totally unraveling before our eyes and in her utter obfuscation she sets out to “find” herself. Because she inherently believes that unless she changes something fundamentally within herself, her life is not going to take a different shape than the one it is in now. And thus begins her journey to Italy, India and Bali.

In Italy she finds food, friends and much to laugh and be happy about. The director, Ryan Murphy has astutely portrayed Rome and Naples in all their glory and beauty, with the monuments and the statues and of course the incredible restaurants and the delectable food. While she is surrounded by beauty and loving her fully loaded carb diet, there is always an unmistakable sense of ‘alone-ness’ that haunts her everywhere.

From here she travels onward to India, where she is met by her deepest demons in an ashram, far less glamorous than what she had imagined it to be. Here she meets Richard the Texan, played to perfection by Richard Jenkins. A man who has evidently suffered far more pain in his life than most others, and has almost always got a poignant word to share with her. In the ‘Pray’ part of the movie, she learns to forgive herself, to let go of all the clutter that occupies so much of her life and to learn to be at peace with herself.

Armed with happy times in Italy and some degree of peace and balance that she found in India, she heads off to Bali to meet a ninth generation medicine man and to lose herself in the scenic beauty of this island.

By this point, I was already in love with the movie and I couldn’t imagine it getting any better, and sure enough Javier Bardem makes an appearance.

Ryan Murphy and Julia Roberts were responsible for casting this film and I can only rejoice at the selection of actors they picked, because each outdid the role they set out to play. Javier Bardem so beautifully embodied that self assured, utterly comfortable-in-his-skin kind of a wholesome man, who has traveled many a road and made peace with much conflict within himself, as he offers her a hand of love and warmly assures her that losing balance in love is not losing balance in life.

That its an incredibly feel-good movie is known to all of us who read the book, but the actors who play the roles make this movie such a richer experience, not to mention the incredible work of the director and his team.

 A must-watch!

A Brief History of a Meditator

A series of new studies have recently come out touting the benefits of teaching kids to meditate.

Well stop right there: allow me to say with utmost humility – here stands the expert.

My sister Mallika and I learned to meditate when we were about four and seven years old respectively (she’s older). This was early on in my father’s discovery phase of the transcendental meditation movement. Contrary to popular belief, he was not always the go-to-Guru that many now see him as. He was in fact a chain smoking, hard drinking, cantankerous by-the-book old school physician who ironically had little faith in the older school ways of alternative medicine and stress relieving techniques like meditation. Alas, on somewhat of a lark he discovered a TM Center in Cambridge Mass not far from where we lived and he worked and figured he may as well give the hippie delight a try.

And so began our regular attendance to group meditations and lectures down at the TM Center on Mass. Ave where while our parents meditated endlessly, Mallika and I (and numerous other kids of recently recruited meditators – my dad has always had an instinct for starting movements himself) were forced to entertain ourselves in spartanly furnished rooms that smelled of broccoli and tofu. 

Soon enough, we too were brought into the (meditation) circle. It started with my father offering us a dollar for every minute we were able to stay completely silent. Mallika of course was a natural at it and she quickly amassed a great fortune. I, on the other hand, struggled greatly with such discipline, though I did eventually discover numerous loopholes – as in while I couldn’t say anything, I was not barred from making noise with other parts of my body, nor did it mean I couldn’t watch TV while "meditating."

This forced my father to up the ante which he needed to anyway (Mallika was already into triple figures by this time). So came a more traditional sitting technique for meditation. Staying still, ideally in lotus position – yeah right, with eyes closed repeating a "secret sound" or "word of wisdom." My rambunctiousness had settled down some by now (I think I was about 8) and meditation had its own appeal – my father told me that by meditating, I could eventually gain superpowers and end up like Superman or Batman. Hello!

Gradually it became clear that perhaps x-ray vision, spinning the world backwards on its access, and other such magnificent tricks may require lifetimes of focused meditation. And yet, there were in fact more attainable quests. In 1986 I was 11 years old, and I intensified my meditations all through the summer which seemed to be working as my team the Red Sox streaked through the regular season and then pulled off a miracle in the playoffs to reach the World Series. Then came Game 6 against the Mets. Bill Buckner, Mookie, (unsung goat Bob Stanley) etc etc. The benefits of Meditation became largely questionable and took a major hit as far as I was concerned. I was jaded.

Alas, I got back on the plan in subsequent years probably because by then heavy D was climbing the ranks of the TM Movement and had become somewhat of a star in cultural circles where all of a sudden things like Yoga were gaining momentum and trendy appeal. It was around that time that I was taught "advanced meditation techniques" during an intense series of group instructions back in those broccoli and tofu smelling rooms at the Cambridge TM Center. I think I can confidently claim to be the only teenager at the time who went directly from JV Football practice with a bunch of testosterone fueled teammates to hanging with born again vedantists who boldly believed that if we could just get something like 7000 people meditating at the same time, we could create world peace.

I’m not kidding. Now 16 years old, I went to DC for a two-week meditation course where we meditated like 9 hours a day, and then when we weren’t eating broccoli and tofu, talked about it for like another 9 hours. I was the youngest by about 6 years old, I believe. One guy described his feeling after a week of the course as if he were having a neverending orgasm. 

"Yeah totally," I agreed, not really having any idea what he was talking about.

The course culminated with our learning the "flying sutra" which basically was a sound that triggered spontaneous hopping – branded levitation. You’know the whole "awakening the kundalini" etc. At the time, it seemed some sort of miracle and I was really proud of myself for achieving such a feat. Over time, it became questionable what the real benefit was in being able to hop around a foam covered room with dozens of others.

Yeah, I’d say that was the summit of my adolescent meditation experience. Maybe it was because around that time was when my father started to untangle himself from the TM apparatus he’d become rather enmeshed in. Maybe it was because the whole 7000 people meditating in Fairfield Iowa didn’t create world peace after all, maybe it was that week in Fairfield Iowa, maybe it was that real orgasms were better than metaphorical meditational ones. In college, playing John Madden Football with my buddies seemed like a better usage of time than meditating all by myself. I was officially off the wagon.

Then I graduated and started working as a war correspondent in places like Pakistan, the West Bank, Chechnya, and other highly stressful global hotspots. Hanging out in these places, talking to the people who lived there, reporting on crumbling economies and suicide bombings and ancient hatreds, I started to get depressed, lose weight, and having chronic headaches. I treated them the way my father once had – I drank in various bars with other journos and smoked elaborate hookah pipes that offered sweet, though fleeting, relief. The eventual downside soon out-did the upside.

By then of course, my dad had been on Oprah and was a big deal. He’d personally taught Elizabeth Taylor, Michael Jackson, Madonna, and the dictator of Zaire how to meditate. Hey – I knew how to do that! I could even hop around foam covered rooms if there was one available in Gaza! I decided to give it a spin…

And alas, it worked! I cleaned up my life, even group meditated with Madonna!

I’ve been back on that wagon for about ten years now and I think I’m somewhat addicted to my meds (I stole that line from my late friend MJ – go ahead and unpack that one of all its ironies…). I try to meditate at least once a day, sometimes when I just wake up around 530 AM, sometimes in my office around 530 PM. I also consider my regular bike rides in the canyons near where I live their own meditation, as are my early AM walks with my little mutt Cleo.

As a born again meditator, I can now point to tangible benefits – since I re-started meditating, the Patriots have won 3 Superbowls, and the Sox 2 world series. Yeah!

I noticed in a bunch of ads recently for the upcoming movie Eat, Pray, Love that Julia Roberts is sitting in lotus (damn her!) meditating in some beautiful Indian monestary. I couldn’t help but laugh at just how trendy meditation has become. She looks like she’s really enjoying it though, must be the neverending orgasm thing.  And now I am faced with my own dilemma, whether to take a stab at teaching meditation to my 3 year old. Inflation requires that I may have to up the ante from that old dollar a minute model. Then again, if I don’t say so myself, it seems to have been a worthy investment.

Julia Roberts Forgoes Botox and Practices Hinduism

In filming the movie adaptation of Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love, actress Julia Roberts did all three, especially prayed. Upon her return from the set in India, she revealed to her family and friends that she is now a practicing Hindu
"I’m definitely a practicing Hindu," Roberts said in this month’s issue of Elle magazine. On the subject of reincarnation, she said, "Golly, I’ve been so spoiled with my friends and family in this life. Next time I want to be just something quiet and supporting."


The 42-year-old actress also opened up about aging gracefully. "It’s unfortunate that we live in such a panicked, dysmorphic society where women don’t even give themselves a chance to see what they’ll look like as older persons," she said. "I want to have some idea of what I’ll look like before I start cleaning the slates."
Roberts added that you wouldn’t see her injecting her forehead with Botox any time soon. She wants her children "to know when I’m pissed, when I’m happy, and when I’m confounded. Your face tells a story … and it shouldn’t be a story about your drive to the doctor’s office."
With this newfound outlook, maybe we should all eat, pray and love?

Written by Kathryn Wilson for Tonic.com

Why I Am Not Excited At All To Watch The Movie Version Of “Eat, Pray, Love”

Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search For Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia, the best-selling memoir by writer Elizabeth Gilbert, is the ultimate emotional porn for women.

And like millions of other women, I ate up every single page of it. Finding yourself and falling in love after a very painful divorce? Encountering life-changing spiritual epiphanies while traveling solo in several exotic countries? Oh, yes, yes, YES! Give me MORE! 

Needless to say, my heart sank when I heard that a movie version of the memoir was in the making and it was going to star Julia Roberts. When the movie trailer of Eat, Pray, Love finally came out on Apple trailers, my morbid curiosity compelled me to watch. 

I am not excited at all to see this movie.

Gilbert’s memoir works so well because it is exactly that: a memoir. It is a series of extraordinary events that so happened to a woman gifted with the ability of narrating her life experiences in an extremely likable, down-to-earth tone that many people can relate to.

A fictional version of Eat, Pray, Love, where the same exact series of events happen to a made-up female protagonist, would be too cringingly cheesy to be true. Or is that just me? 

While the book undoubtedly struck a chord more with female readers than male readers, this movie trailer suffers from estrogen overload. Julia Roberts being unhappy in a marriage! Julia Roberts spouting monologues on how she lost her passion for life! Naughty sexual innuendos! Very iStock photo-esque shots of a very beautiful Julia Roberts meditating on a pristine tropical beach!

I also can’t get over the fact that I keep seeing Julia Roberts play Julia Roberts, not Julia Roberts play Elizabeth Gilbert.

Certainly, many beloved books have been madei into movies with lackluster results, and it is hardly an uncommon phenomenon in Hollywood. Why does this particular movie adaptation of this particular book feel like a thorn in my shoe? 

 Maybe I simply hate seeing a woman’s personal journey automatically mutate into a Woman’s Personal Journey Made For The Lifetime TV Audience. The mind-fuck of a really crazy, confusing, up-and-down rollercoaster of a truly challenging spiritual journey primped, sterilized and fetishized for what Hollywood marketers see as the Female Demographic. Somehow I suspect that even when Julia Roberts is bawling her eyes out over her life confusion or post-divorce heartbreak, there will not be any uneven skin tones, crow’s feet or imperfect make-up.

I could be completely wrong, though. Maybe I am preemptively being too much of a cynical curmudgeon, and the movie will actually kick some major spiritual and emotional ass. Who knows? 

Until then, I’m just going to have to get my emotional fix for women figuring out their life shit somewhere else. Time to revisit my dog-eared copy of Judy Blume’s Summer Sisters.

Peanut Butter Lovers’ Day

"There’s nothing like unrequited love to take all the flavor out of a peanut butter sandwich."  ~Charlie Brown
Always oily, sticky and gloppy, creamy to extra chunky, pedigreed-and pricey or down-and dirty-cheap-o – who among us doesn’t just completely dig the taste of peanut butter?
Because of its immense popularity, peanut butter is one of our nation’s numero-uno delicacies. It’s so beloved that the month of March is now named National Peanut month. (Unfortunate for those who suffer from Arachibutyrophobia – the hysteria from peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth. But most especially unfortunate for the millions who suffer from allergies to nuts!)
By 1903, Dr. George Washington Carver, considered by many to be the Father of the Peanut Industry, began his peanut research at the Tuskegee Institute. Peanut butter had already been invented before Carver’s began his horticultural experiments, but many wrongly credit him as being the Father of Peanut Butter. Despite missing out on that really big patent opportunity, the ingenious Dr. Carver did, however, create hundreds of uses for the luscious legume.
Today, the West Coast of the United States prefers chunky, while the East Coast favors creamy brands, but regardless of texture, the average American boy will have consumed approximately 1,500 peanut butter sandwiches by the age of 18. And just one acre of peanuts supplies enough of the legumes to manufacture 30,000 sandwiches.
Today, millions of people pine for peanut butter, and while it’s a common staple in most homes, and it’s relatively inexpensive, it’s not just a condiment for kids. For instance, Demi Moore cures her sugar cravings by snacking on peanut butter, Al Roker has a spoonful of peanut butter every morning, and second First Daughter Sasha Obama loves her daily dose of peanut butter as well. Although it’s virtually every kid’s bread and butter, other well-known “Big Kid” fans include Barbara Walters, Bill Clinton, Billy Joel, Cher, Jack Nicholson, Julia Roberts, Larry King, and even Madonna.
My partner, Richard (whose favorite brand happens to be ‘Crazy Richard’s’) easily downs half a jar of the stuff with a spoon every afternoon, while I, on the other hand, enjoy a double-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead. Using three slices of bread, I smear peanut butter (chunky style, of course!) on the inside of the two outer slices, followed by spreading jelly or jam onto both sides of the inner slice. Sounds complicated but making it this way eliminates the outside of the sandwich from ever becoming soggy. (Truth be told, it also eliminates my need for a second peanut butter and jelly sandwich!)
But if you happen to get a glop on more than your knife, spoon or bread, remove peanut butter stains from just about any non-porous surface by scraping it up and then wiping it away with warm sudsy water. For excess oil, pile on the baking soda. Sprinkle the area liberally, wait for about ten minutes, wipe away the excess and you’re good to go.
Nutritious and versatile, glop-alicious and good, this month make Dr. Carver proud – remember to go nuts over peanut butter.

Do an Oscar Winning workout!

 The Oscars are this weekend, and many stars are getting in their last workouts.  Final tweeks on the diet plan, hair touch-ups, facials, manicures and pedicures.  Lots to do to be a star on the red carpet.  At the 73rd Academy Awards in 2001, my client Julia Roberts took home the Oscar.  That morning, I met her at the hotel and gave her a workout.  Mostly to calm the nerves, but also to give her energy for the night ahead.  

So why not get yourself red-carpet ready and try this workout today, tomorrow and Sunday?

20 minutes of biking indoor or outdoor.  Medium to Hard intensity

One 15 minute mile

2 sets of 15 pushups

2 sets of 30 Bicycle Abs

5 minutes of stretching

I guarantee you will feel energized and red-carpet ready to watch this year’s Oscar Show.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...