Oh how I have missed you, Gilad. But now my post surgical restrictions are over! And we will once again be an exercise duo. You, looking buff and beefy on my TV screen, while I, flabby and doughy, flail about to your workouts in my living room.
Your online bio says you are in your 50s. What do you know? So am I.
Gilad, you tell me how to stretch. How to tone. How to burn unwanted fat. But you don't tell me how to do those things with two babies in the room. And Gilad? Don't tell me to work out when the babies are out of the room. When you have two babies, there's always one in the room. They fall on my stomach while I do sit ups. They pull my shirt over my head while doing yoga poses. They freak out screaming when I turn on the ceiling fan.
Oh Gilad. I'll give you 30 minutes a day during the week and an hour each weekend but it's not going to be easy on me. Hilarious good time for the babies, but that's not actually the point of your workouts. now is it?