Tag Archives: Gilad

Exercising for Introverts

Most introverts would rather have a daily colonoscopy than use their gym memberships.  Yes, a lot of us actually have gym memberships.  We usually go to the gym once or twice, realize that it involves wiping other people’s sweat off of machines, listening to really bad music, and possibly making small talk, and then we never set foot in the place again. I’ve had at least five such memberships.

 If you have read my blog before, you know that I have my own fake personal trainer, Gilad.  Gilad and I have about three sessions a week.  We are usually joined by four or five other people, so it’s not crowded and loud like a Zumba class, and we meet on a beach in Hawaii.  Gilad could do a little better in the background music department, but the scenery is nice. When I don’t feel like listening to steel drums or muzak, I get on the elliptical in my basement, not at the gym.  Exercising alone is great for a number of reasons.

  •  You can take the time to focus on such meaningful lyrics like, “if she could show him the letter her heart forgot to send” or “the brightest ring around the moon and talk of when I die.”  You can even repeat them out loud without anyone calling the padded cell police on you. You just can’t focus on lyrics in a Zumba class since they are not in English or not audible due to the driving bass beat.
  • You can sing on the elliptical or treadmill.  I sing so loud that my dogs become concerned about me. I’m waiting for the neighbors to call 911 and a swat team to come busting in to the basement to stop the beating that is occurring.  I should probably take a moment to apologize to Guns and Roses, Aerosmith, Ozzy, Journey, Tom Petty (who is not really my cousin, but I wish), and Van Halen (Van Hagar version only.  I’m SO not a David Lee Roth kind of girl.) 
  • You can grunt when you do push ups. Seeing as how I’m not a teenaged boy, pushups are difficult.  I still do them every day, with a lot of grunts. 
  • You can curse when you do crunches.  And who wouldn’t.  Working with Gilad has gotten me somewhat used to crunches, but they are still difficult.
  • You can make fun of your personal trainer’s accent because he’s on TV and can’t hear you.  Sorry, Gilad.
  • You can let your dog out during the aerobics portion of your routine.  While Gilad is counting down the jumping jacks in the cool Israeli accent, I am usually jump jacking over to the back door to let my 60 pound Dane/Lab puppy out. 
  • When you exercise at home, you are truly your own DJ.  You don’t have to listen to bad club music any more.  Is there GOOD club music? Yes, extroverts, I have used my iPhone at the gym with ear buds, and I can still hear the darn electro-garbage in the background.  Plus, there’s still that whole wiping down the machines thing.  Gross.

 The only way I have ever been successful at maintaining a regular exercise routine is when I exercise at home.  I’ve tried doing some outside things like walking the dog, but there’s usually some one who wants to talk.  Then, I have to pretend not to speak English, but I’m never able to think of a really odd language that no one else could possibly speak.  I’m open to suggestions.

25 Minutes with Mr. Dark and Handsome

I try to spend 25 minutes every day with Mr. Dark and Handsome. I would do more, but that is about what fits in my schedule. It’s OK. My husband knows about him. I have even asked him to join us since it would be really good exercise, but he thinks that kind of thing is just silly. I disagree. There’s no reason why I should be the only one to benefit from this kind of physical activity.



Wait. Hold on. I’m not talking about a Craig’s List connection here. I’m talking about my imaginary personal trainer, Gilad. He comes into my living room every morning, and brings 4 assistants and a beautiful view of Hawaii. One time, he even had his mom on the show. She looked great, but Mama G didn’t attempt the little unitard and tights ensemble that the other females were wearing. This was an episode from 2004, back when people still wore these things to exercise classes. Oh, wait; that was 1985. At least, the Gilad girls don’t wear leg warmers. The token other guy in the class doesn’t either. Anyway, Mama Gilad had baggy pants and a Gilad t-shirt on. I can respect that, and relate.

As I mentioned, Gilad is nice to look at, for the most part, especially given the fact that he is 17 years older than me. Those of you doing the math at home, that would make him 44. Yes, I’m sure. Because I’m 27, that’s why. What teenaged son? Hush.

Anyway, he is pretty, aside from that unfortunate helmet hair, which he no doubt inherited from his mom. Gilad’s accent can be distracting, though, and I don’t imagine us talking about anything deeper than bun muscles. Just a feeling I have. So, I can’t really add him to the fake boyfriend list, See fake BF blog , but he is definitely the best imaginary personal trainer I have ever had, and the only male one.

Twinkies are also yummy.
Twinkies are also yummy.

Those of you who have seen me lately are thinking, “Wow, either your personal trainer sucks, or you must have a case of Twinkies hidden in your pantry.” It’s OK. I think the same thing whenever I see that woman with bad hair, bags under her eyes and a fat suit in the mirror. I really thought it when I saw that one HORRIBLE picture of me from a recent work function. However, I JUST STARTED working out with Gilad. Give me a couple of months and I will be halfway in shape just in time for swimsuit season to end. Uh huh. I’ve got this all planned out.

So, if you would like to borrow my personal trainer, just set your DVR to record his show on Fit TV, or whatever channel that is. You can just search for him on your cable guide, or the Internet. You could also buy his DVD’s, but who does that with all of this live streaming stuff happening. It’s not like it’s 2004 anymore.