I have spent the last three days laughing myself sick over your funny, funny entries. Hoo boy. I also spent a good three hours pulling out quotes from your entries, and linking them all up pretty, and then apparently my blog timed out and I lost most of that entry. Instead of crying over it, I'll fix it. Later.

After narrowing down the entries and sending them to a group of impartial judges (ie, people who don't know any of you guys but know funny when they read it) we came up with a short-list - here are some highlights from the finalists:

Cheryl Mohr: My legs stopped moving, but the pedals from elliptical hell didn't. That horrendous, body shredding, plastic torture device from the 1900s threw me off of it, no kidding, into the wall. What you don't realize is that I decided in all of my college educated (graduated WITH honors, believe it or not) mind, I had put that stupid machine in front of my dining room (yes DINING room (see the irony)) window. It flung me into the wall and the window and my legs were still spinning and I am stuck - all 290 svelt pounds of me. I'm telling you, I thought I would surely die. I'm sweating, having visions of my family finding a mutilated body stuck between the elliptical and the windows and walls with my feet still spinning.

Dani Ferguson: It was a simple device, no tightly wound springs to accidentally spring out of control and take out a couple of teeth, no hinges to get any of my abundant curves caught in their steel grasp, no, it was simply made up of a few nylon ropes with loops on each end. It had a plastic hook to hang over the door and when the door was closed you simply laid down on the floor grasping the two loops over your head, one in each hand, while putting your feet through the two loops at your feet. Then as you lowered your arm your leg would go up alternating from side to side as you went. Simple enough, no great skill required or so I thought. So day one of my new fitness quest I waited until the kids had gone out to play, put on my black leotards, closed the curtains and shut the door. I was about 5 minutes into my first workout when suddenly the world went black. My 7 year daughter had burst through the door driving it into the back of my skull. (seems I forgot to lock the door) There I was, semi-conscious, looking like a fat marionette sprawled out on my living room floor with one arm dangling in the air supported by a blue nylon loop.

Michelle: All of a sudden, my legs could no longer take the abuse, and the band sprung out from underneath my foot. Trying to keep my balance and hold tight to the band, it flung up, hitting our brand new flat-screen TV square in the center, knocking it backwards off the stand and smack onto the entertainment center. To make matters worse, the right end of the band slipped out of my hand and shot straight up in the air, poking a D-shaped (from the handle) hole in the ceiling. I was so mortified that I stood there, frozen, for about 40 minutes. The TV was completely unsalvageable, and I had to come up with an excuse to tell my husband, other than, "A good workout gone totally bad."

Michelle:
The rope went up and around the first time and hit the ceiling tile. So what, really. It makes a noise, but I was able to get it up and over. Again, and again, I hit the ceiling tile. Ok, again, rest. Again, break. Again, puff puff puff. Eventually, the tile decided it didn't like being whacked by the jump rope. Here's where I blame the former owners of my house for putting in defective materials in the basement. It cracked into about six pieces and came tumbling down on my poor, unsuspecting head. Needless to say, that scared the cr#p out of me. I jumped forward. I tripped on the rope. I went flying forward towards my beautiful yellow couch. I didn't realize how squared off the edges of the couch are, but I certainly do now. I ended up ramming into it with my left cheekbone.

Karie White: Two Words... TOTAL TIGER...My dumbass first decides to used this on carpet to no avail so I then decide to take it to the garage. In the videos it shows how a rather tiny woman, who probably never had issues in the first place, in a push-up position elegantly swaying back and forth to maximize the obliques. I thought to myself, "dang toothpick girl can do it so can I". Sure I can. So, I position myself on padded blue ugliness on the smooth, hard concrete and no longer put my hands on the rolling contraption and did a face plant on the concrete chipping the fresh bonding I had done the previous week. Try embarrassing contraption PLUS cracked teeth all for the low-low price of $119.95.

Nettie: Oh, ho! You would be soooo wrong! I joined at least two gyms without ever setting foot in them except for the day I was sold the membership. I had an extensive collection of Richard Simmons and Walk Away the Pounds videos. I even tried... the Abtoner (please insert appropriate monster truck announcer's voice) It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I coudln't even figure out how to put it on. I ended up giving it to a friend who didn't like it either, but thought that perhaps it could have other *ahem* "uses". It appears she wasn't the only one with that idea. Along the way I also picked up my own aerobic steps, which I acutally used for awhile. Then I got tired of listening to White Wedding and whatever that Danger Zone song from Top Buns was and put the steps into storage. For about six years. Then I finally said goodbye to the guilt and sold 'em in a garage sale.

Renee: When the bladder finally threw up the white flag, I made my way to the women's room at my office. I had to pee like a racehorse but also was in severe muscle pain, so I did my best to get my pants down and get myself down onto the seat as quickly as I could under the circumstances. To help myself, I grabbed onto the toilet paper dispenser to help lower myself down onto the seat. Unfortunately, the dispenser gave way, broke clear off the wall and I did a graceful fall (pants down & all) into the gap between the toilet and the stall wall. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, all of the pee that I'd been saving up started leaking out AND there was someone in another stall who asked "are you ok over there?" I let out a weak little "yeah", struggled to get up, finish peeing (not on myself thankfully), clean myself off and pull up my undies and then I got the hell out of there before the other person could finish up their business and see that it was me. I went to my desk, picked up my purse and left for the day, convinced that I had done enough to dignify myself for the day, the year and possibly even my lifetime.

Crystal: Every morning, we would begin our workout the same way. She would stand outside my car window and beg me to open the door and I would cry and tell her to go make me a sandwich. All in all, we had a good relationship. I ran and stretched and pivoted and climbed and burned and burned and burned. I squeezed and pictured the thin me and portioned my food and drank water, that's right, I DRANK WATER, MOM, AND IT DIDN'T DO SQUAT FOR MY SKIN. (And I know that bubble gum doesn't stick to your ribs, either, you sadist) Sadly, Melanie and I had to part ways when she couldn't handle the crying any more. I will always remember that three days fondly and I'm sure she will forever remember me since I sent her flowers for a month for firing me.

Yvonne: It wasn't as simple and moving that piece of rubber back and forth, there were actual things involved that required a bit of skill. Things like "rhythm" and "not feeling like an asshole while working up to said rhythm because ha ha, am I really holding a giant piece of rubber in my hands in the hopes of looking look like this?" I would alternate between fits of laughter (HAHAHAHA LOOK AT ME TRYING TO SHAKE A GIANT RUBBER STICK!), shame (I'M WORKING OUT WITH A GIANT RUBBER STICK.) and anger (DID I REALLY JUST SPENT ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS ON THIS GIANT RUBBER STICK?)

*jen - I like to believe I am a runner, deep down inside. Very deep down. Buried, in fact. Buried deeply. I have made mention of this delusion before, and by now most of my family and friends have stopped laughing; I'm glad to give them the opportunity to resume their hysteria. So, several times in my life I have tossed money away on expensive running shoes and sweat-wicking socks and lightweight-yet-water-resistant jackets. If you haven't figured out by the tone of this paragraph, "I like to believe I am a runner" means "Multiple times in my life I realized that I am not a runner and after a few dozen short bouts of trotting awkwardly around my neighborhood I donated the shoes and other associated running implements to charity."

Whitney D. Remember that part where I expressed difficulty directing my limbs to move in a coordinated fashion? Well, the moving track on a treadmill proved to be far too much for my meager coordination skills to navigate. I huffed and puffed and stumbled for about half a minute. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor, surrounded by other gym patrons and a variety of hard-bodied staff members, my limbs askew and my belly fat exposed for all the world to gaze upon. A massive black and purple lump was already ominously bulging from my forehead. From the account of a kindly elderly man who was walking on the machine beside mine, I apparently tripped over my own feet, slammed headfirst into the "Calories Burned" display (which read 20 at the time), and went shooting gallantly off the end of the treadmill, a blur of white flesh and black spandex catapulting through the air. I limped away with a concussion, two chipped teeth, a broken toe, and severe inoperable damage to my sense of dignity. At this point, I know that it is unhealthy for me NOT to exercise, but I can't help but wonder if actually exercising could prove to be MORE dangerous in my particular case.

These, and all 200 something entries kept me absolutely sobbing from the pain of too much laughing. I asked for you to bring it, and you done brought it gooooood.

But! Whose cuisine reigns supreme? Who is the winner of the Wii Fit and Wii Console?

Rachelle, of Craft Rage, who hits it out of the park with her hilarious entry: Loose Tooth Anyone?

Rachelle regales her audience with not one by three fitness disasters, featuring three of the most popular products mentioned in this contest: the ThighMaster, the Gazelle and Carmen Electra's Fit to Strip videos.

Rachelle's screamingly funny post closes with a promise:

Actually, now that I think of it, I've done other stupid things in the name of fitness, but maybe it's best if I attempt to keep a little bit of mystique. But I will say this; if I win the Wii, I WILL post pictures of whatever injuries I give myself while using it. That should be good for a laugh. Or stitches.

And I think I'm going to hold her to that.

Congratulations, Rachelle! (Are we related?)

Thank you everyone who participated. If you didn't win here - be on the lookout for my fellow Wii Ambassadors giving away the Wii Fit and Wii Console.

CityMama's dropping it like it's hot - check out her contest here.
Tracy will announce her contest soon.
Dana's got her contest here.

I'll update this list as contests are posted.

Thanks everyone!