Pedal perfection

I am inordinately fond of riding my bicycle. It's my favorite form of transportation, and makes me feel strong and capable when I'm flying across the ground under my own power. Last year I commuted to work on my bike a lot, twelve miles and one huge hill each way, and I loved it. Then my office moved away from its bucolic setting and into the big town, and I don't get to do that anymore. It's too far. But sometimes I ride through the hills near home, all the way to the bus that takes me to work. It's about an hour's ride, and that's what I did yesterday morning. It was so nice, an hour of sunshine and breeze and jelly legs and lost breath, and I LOVED IT! I'm officially adding it to the routine.
Here's the routine:
2 days a week, at the gym strength, abs, cardio circuit loosely based on the Jillian Michaels 30-day Shred thing.
One day run or bike or other cardio.
Throw in some yoga here and there.

Gymerrific

Or gym horrific? I've been around ze gyms for much of my adult life. I was an 11 pm regular in college, working out alongside the other night owls. I was the assistant manager of a huge Gold's Gym where my duties really involved no more than having my own set o' keys and operation of the smoothie station and protein drinks. I worked in the sad underground gyms of the corporate fitness world, where workers would come to me on their lunch hour or four (hey, it was a government office building) and I'd whip them into shape. So I'm no stranger to the ins and outs of the somewhat strange world of fitness facilities.
Fast forward to now, I'm living in California where it would be a right crime to stuff yourself into one of these places for most of the year. The weather is balmy, and the outdoor activities to immerse oneself in are endless. However, now that it's getting dark out at precisely 5:23 in the evening, and me having a slight and sometimes not-so-slight pain in my knee problem, I've headed in. But I cancelled my gym membership in the spring and was never too impressed with the facility to start, so I've taken advantage of the fact that I am a military wife and using the gym at the big Coast Guard training center near my work. It's a nice little gym, with clean locker rooms and good equipment. BUT. There is something disconcerting about it. I can't quite put my finger on it...
Oh wait, yes I can. The vast majority of those whom I sweat and breathe heavily and curse when I drop a weight on my toe around are all about 19 years old and quite assuredly male. I am a hen in roosterville. So my comfort level is, well, stretched. And I'm self-conscious. Not a ton, but some. I told a friend of mine and she said she would be horrified and likely never return.
So what's the perfect gym? And how do others influence your gym experience?

Woe is the weekend, wee is today!

So this last weekend was a bit of a disaster. My man was home, we went over to friends' places, where I had not much control over what I ate, and didn't do my part in controlling how much I ate. Oatmeal cookies and garlic bread were involved. Yipes. This is one of my central issues. How do I function in a world that is so full of scary food situations? How do I plan? How do I dodge the traps and pitfalls? How do I say no to cheese fondue on one of the civically happiest nights of my life?

On a positive note, I am doing well in the exercise department. I've been going to the gym and doing some weights and interval things - jumping rope, jumping jacks, etc. I also signed up for a month at a Bikram yoga and took my first class on Saturday. It's not my first yoga class, but I was shocked at how different it felt than any other type of exercise/torture I've ever gone through. It was a challenge. It was sweaty and overwhelming, but I'm looking forward to getting to another class.

I weighed myself, and am down a pound from the week before. But that week I was up two pounds from the week before that. Eh?