That would be me.

I stood up my gym partner, Jen, Friday.

It wasn't the first time.

Another morning, when I was saving a group of toddlers from a burning car, then had to help firefighters put out the fire as it moved to a nearby bus and 12 other cars, I didn't make it to the gym.

Another time, I had to rescue a basket of drowning kittens from a raging stream in York County, so I missed the gym that morning, too.

Actually, those things didn't happen.

Both times, I was probably at home on my couch, dozing, I looked at the clock, and briefly thought, "I need to meet Jen at the gym," then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Thank goodness she's a forgiving soul, and doesn't hate me for choosing my couch over cycling class.

Or for completing avoiding the gym, which we've both been guilty of, lately.

However, Jen and I are trying to get back on track.

That will only happen if I can become a better gym buddy.

I went to cycling class this morning, and I feel great.

Actually, I hurt all over.

But I'm going to keep with it.

And I'm going to the gym with Jen next week, holiday be darned.

Coming this week: My weigh-in