Five years ago this month I was standing on the edge of the Tibetan plateau after a week's hard trekking through the foothills of the Nepal Himalayas. I'd humped an 11kg backpack up steep donkey paths, past the snow line and through the Annapurna mountain range, earning the worst blisters of my life and some of the best memories.

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then - and an awful lot of food has gone down the hatch.

These days I doubt I could get 11kg up the stairs on top of the three stones I've gained since my trip.

I certainly couldn't get into most of the clothes I was wearing last time around, so the prospect of my impending return to the Himalayas is thrilling - but daunting.

Myself and my friends, all former trekkers, have decided to mark the year 2000 by taking on another trek, this time probably to the isolated kingdom of Ladakh.

Which means I've got until September to transform my lumpen self into an invincible hiking machine.

Nicky at Courtney's fitness centre, Monk's Cross, paled only slightly when I outlined my ambitious plan to her.

She certainly didn't laugh...but then again, it's no laughing matter when you're as out of shape as I am.

Nicky got me up and running on the treadmill for a cardiovascular test which, to my shock, showed I had above average fitness.

But any smugness I may have felt evaporated immediately Nicky asked me to step on a nifty gadget that showed no less than 5st of my total body weight was fat.

That's like a decent-sized child made entirely of lard.

Still, what can you expect with the lifestyle of non-stop sloth I've enjoyed since I returned from my trek, part of a year's round-the-world trip?

My healthy travelling diet of vegetables and rice was instantly dumped back in Britain as I fell like a starving man on the butter, cheese and chocolate I hadn't tasted for months. And as for the wine... well, that's another story.

Clearly, I was going to have to work hard to recover my strength and fitness - and the training started straight away with a ten-minute stint on a vicious machine known as a cross-trainer.

This is one instrument of torture that seems to have escaped the imagination of the Spanish Inquisition.

But I've become intimate with all its joys over the past few days, groaning as a merciless electronic display orders me to push with my arms, concentrate on my lower body, but above all SPEED UP...

The cross-trainer gives way to another ten minutes' hard cycling on a hill programme - I wonder if it's modelled on the Himalayas ?

Scarlet and sweating, I then move onto the third stage of my cardio session - a date with the treadmill for ten minutes of more hard slog.

I'm being accompanied throughout all this by my svelte chum Maggie who has rashly agreed to join me in my quest for fitness. Even she, veteran of many an exercise class, is glowing a bit by the end of our half-hour session. As for me... don't ask.

Then it's on to those lovely machines designed to work each muscle group. Nicky pronounces that under all the flab I have good strong legs.

Great, I think, then realise that means I have apparently huge weights to shift if I'm going to make the machines do their thing.

Somehow, through gritted teeth, I make it to the ab crunches (sort of sit-ups, but worse).

"Do you think I'd be brave in childbirth ?" I ask Maggie as I gasp and moan my way through the punishment.

Next to me, a man snorts convulsively, then moves off to laugh in peace.

And that, suddenly, is it. Stretches follow to stave off the pain that normally follows hard exercise, and I feel great.

I still feel great after several more gym sessions - and guess what ? I look forward to going.

follow Francine's progress with regular updates as she works towards her Himalayan goal.

Courtney's Fitness For Life:01904 642162