It was cosmic, really, how this whole Quest thing came together.

I'd no sooner stood up determinedly at my office desk and declared "That's it. Sloth is out. I'm heading to the gym to renew my membership," when my colleague Karen told me to wait. "Don't renew it just yet. We're working on something with Head Games and The Landing - and you may be involved."

And by "involved" she meant really involved. As in Bodybugg, gyrokinesis and strangely named yoga involved. She meant heading to training sessions at very early hours.

But hell, I wasn't about to turn down ten weeks of personal training. Not that I thought I was that poorly off. I did run (read: jog slooowly) the Beach to Beacon 10K a mere eight months ago.

And I've been moderately active this winter, what with the occasional Hash House Harriers run, a Snowman Adventure Race (complete with costumes and East End sled) and many, many walks to the coffee shop (ahem - next door).

Even still, with those nearly forgotten accoutrements of summer looming - those arm amplifying tanks and those pastey-leg revealing shorts - I conceded that some toning might be in order.

Imagine my surprise then, when I stepped on the scale at The Landing for the first time in - well, long enough - and was greeted with a three-digit number I couldn't comprehend.

Those red digits flashed like the lights on an emergency vehicle. A tiny "alert! alert!" blinking there at the tips of my feet.

"I'm sorry," I said. "What?" I asked if the scale was displaying in ounces.

It wasn't.

I won't even get into the body fat percentage. Let it suffice to say that, while I accept that obesity is an issue in these parts, I never thought it'd be an issue in MY parts. But it is.

So there's that. What started as an unambitious tag-along project (following the four Quest for your Best program participants) has become an earnest crusade of my own.

A crusade that focuses on health and wellness, of course, but also on ensuring my back end isn't an exact replica of your average IKEA dining table.

We five Questers have been plugging along for a week and a half now. On Thursday a few of us took a gyrokinesis class (aka dancer's yoga). The stretch pictured above was one of the many movements I shocked my body with (bowl not included). My spine was altogether delighted to be extended in such a fashion, seeing as it spends most of its time bent over keyboards, books and sandwiches.

My body thanked me at weigh-in number one: A recorded weight loss of absolutely nothing. Even better, I gained half a pound. Sweet.

And the squats go on.