I hate writing about the bad days here, mostly because my natural urge is to keep them to myself. However, I cannot present this chronicle of workouts as an entirely positive process, because that is not the case. I don't bounce in to the gym every morning, happy and perky to be there. Some mornings find me in workout clothes and shoes more through habit than excitement, and the workout is not an exercise of joy but in, simply, endurance.

Weights regimen #2 began 4 February, and for those of you doing the mathematical home game, that means I'm in my third and final week of this regimen. After the débâcle that was the first aerobics class, Laura-the-trainer informed me (with much glee, I might add) that I now had a very good idea of just how much my body could take, and that she wanted me to raise my weights as appropriate.

"You are a source of wisdom and strength to those around you."

- fortune cookie with a twisted sense of humor

I'm not sure if all this is scaring me or if it's giving me hope, or if this sudden feeling is what it's like to recognize my own backbone for the first time in a couple of years.

I've managed to heal up after last week's rather pitiable mishap with an extra Thursday night class; my quads have returned from union break and my hamstrings, while grumpy, have indicated a willingness to play along for the time being.

I have a couple of hours left to decide if I want to attend tonight's class or not; like last week, I'm not sure it's a good idea, but I know that the extra midsection work wouldn't kill me.There are apparently two types of exercisers: the gregarious, and the lone wolves. The gregarious ones flounder when pointed to machines, alone; without others to push them, they fall. The lone wolves like their headphones and their solitude, and would rather battle a set of weights one-on-one than figure out what kind of chatter would be best to get through a class.

I'm the latter.

It's hard to justify saying "I won't go into the gym today because I'm in pain," when you know that, at that very moment, one of your friends is in labor at a nearby hospital. It tends to put your pain in a bit of perspective. Suffice it to say, Friday morning, I grabbed my gym equipment, coaxed myself into a standing position, and got myself to the gym.I've had to learn a good bit about quadriceps since Thursday night's gym class. Laura had encouraged me to try it, saying that she thought I was ready for it, but I wasn't entirely sure. Since the first few weeks had gone so well, I agreed. Why not see if I could add in something new and interesting to my routine?

According to today's measurements, we've seen progress. I received my periodic sniping from Laura-the-trainer today about my wanting to weigh myself once a week. Actually, come to think of it, I think I got a finger waggled at me. I haven't had that happen in a while.