On Tuesday, I did something I had not done in more than six months - I went to a cycling class.

I was nervous about testing my ankle out this way. I know it's been several months, but I'm still in physical therapy, and sometimes prone to toppling over when the ankle decides it does not want to cooperate.

Still, I was tired of not being able to go to the gym, so I braved an hour-long class with my gym buddy, Jen.

When we got there, we came face to face with the evil "WOO!" instructor, otherwise known as my nemesis.

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Jen and I have decided that we both suck as gym buddies.

Before she left the office tonight, she stopped by my desk to tell me that she hadn't made it to cycling class Friday morning, either.

She also told me how she'd planned on going to the gym Monday, and had packed her bag to go when she got off at 6 p.m.

An extra hour and a half at work killed that dream, and by the time she left, she just wanted to go home and have some dinner.

I feel her pain.

I have been rushing around, trying to get the last of my Christmas stuff done, which has not left time for me to work out.

So, Jen and I have promised each other to do better.

Any suggestions on how you get yourself motivated to go back to the gym? We serioiusly need the help.

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I would like to let everyone know that I still hold this title.

I keep telling my gym buddy, Jen, that I want to meet her at the gym.

I do want to go to the gym.

Really.

I just keep not making it there, for one reason or another.

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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

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Tuesday's cycling class was a barrel of laughs.

Not only has the nighttime class been taken over by the evil "WOO!" instructor (see this blog post for details), she had a whole class of people just like her.

I got back on the "working out" horse this week, only to be greeted by the evil one on my first class back. On the bike next to me was a woman who'd never taken a cycling class before.

Boy, was she in for a treat!

(Again, that was sarcasm.)

The devil's minion started the class, and screamed at us about how good it felt to ride. To my surprise, more than 10 others in the class joined in, whooping and hollering about how much fun we were having.

For the record, no one has FUN in cycling.

We go because we don't want our butts to get any wider.

It's that simple.

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I can't feel my legs.

After an hour of cycling class tonight (I have not been for a week. I had a cold.), I think I have successfully broken my legs.

It hurts to walk.

It hurts to sit.

It just hurts to be.

Don't even get me started about how my butt is feeling right about now. It's so mad, it won't even clap for me.

(That's a stripper reference. Look it up.)

I think I may have overdid it.

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Hi guys. I'm going to start working out again today.

I'm really, really happy about it.

(For those of you who do not know, that was also sarcasm.)

I had something awful last week, I think it was the flu, and it kept me away from cycling class.

I just hope I don't die going to one tonight. Wish me luck.

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As soon as I start bragging about how often I've been to the gym in the last two weeks, I stop going.

I do have an excuse. I've had the plague for the last few days. I think its small pox.

Actually, I have a really bad cold, which kept me out of work and out of the gym for the last few days. Trust me - no one wants the cold I've got going. It is not cute at all.

So, I'm still getting over a cold and missing the gym a little.

Crazy, right?

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This just in - your friendly, neighborhood "pleasantly plump" blogger has knees!

Before I started toning up, my legs were all thigh - a landscape of cottage cheese-like cellulite with dimples that ended down somewhere near my ankles.

However, when I was sitting on the couch this weekend, I noticed my knees had come back! They'd been hidden, you see, under the chub that had taken over the lower part of my legs.

Now, that I'm working toward being toned and buff (Hello, Arnold!), you can now tell that I do, in fact, have knees, and my thighs are shaping up, too.

Do you hear me, dear readers? My legs no longer look like fleshy, brown treetrunks!

This is great news. I need to celebrate. I believe some shoe shopping is in order.

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I made it to the gym three times this week for cycling class.

It was no easy feat, my friends.

My legs may feel like jelly (and they still jiggle like jam), but I feel good. I think I like this cycling thing.

Now, if only I could say no to the lure of sweets, we might be in business.

So far, no pounds off, but I'm not going to be discouraged. The weight thing is going good.

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