Now that we’ve survived another year of ceremonial turkey-gobbling, I guess we’ve got to face the inevitable fact that it’s time to start worrying about Christmas shopping again.

Let me rephrase that.

It’s time for you to start worrying. Me? After 36 years, I’ve finally figured out the whole Santa-Elf-Reideer thing. As such, I head into the season with yuletide cheer oozing out of my every pore (you wondered what that was, didn’t you?)

First, there’s something you ought to know:

Santa’s not the only one who keeps a list, checks it twice, and whatnot.

I may not know when you’ve been sleeping, or when you’ve been awake, but I do know when you’ve been less than nice … to me … and man, do I have a list.

Here’s what that means: For all of you who’ve asked me what gym I go to just so you could avoid the place, I’ve got an answer.

For all of you who’ve told me I’m too hefty to run, and I shouldn’t have been surprised when the ol’ hoof finally gave out, I’ve got your present.

And for whoever thought it was funny to put the little card on my desk – the one that claimed a certain magazine has “101 Tips To BANISH That POTBELLLY – I’ve got a gift for you, too. Banish this.

The other day, while I was grazing at the buffet table in my favorite Chinese All-You-Can-Gorge restaurant, I looked around and realized that I’m not alone.

There are plenty of POTBELLIES that need BANISHING out there. And many of them belong to people I know.

Thanks to a mail-order catalogue I got a few weeks back, I’ve got not only a cure, but also a sack full of gift ideas.

Now, I get plenty of catalogues. I’m convinced that the secret to fishing is hidden somewhere inside the 250-page Cabela’s holiday book. All I’ve got to do is buy enough stuff, and the secret will be revealed to me. … unless the secret’s actually hidden in the L.L. Bean catalogue, that is.

But this catalogue was even better than the ones I usually get.

Want a potbelly banished? Want a particularly nasty case of leg lard eliminated?

This catalogue’s got the answer, in the form of 354 different exercise videos. I’m not kidding.

Want your butt blasted or your abs absolutely erased or your tubby tummy toned? I can help.

Among the more intriguing offerings that many of you may find under your trees:

On Page 6 there’s a tape called Gospel Aerobics. With this gem you can boogie down and sweat to old favorites like Amazing Grace and Kumbaya.

If you’re one of those mini-trampoline junkies, Page 15 offers you the chance to do some Urban Rebounding.

Someone will get the Navy SEAL Training Camp Series.

I’ll give one of you the Bellydance Workout Series. Someone’s gonna get the Celtic Feet tape.

There’s yoga and Tae Bo. Advanced yoga. Power yoga. Tae chi.

Now, I’m not going to abandon you here. I know working out is hard. I know you’ll need to know that somewhere, in front of another TV, there’s some other bozo doing exercises that the Navy SEALs developed. I’ll be that bozo.

I looked really, really hard for an aerobic hot-dog eating tape, but couldn’t find it on the list.

I nearly bought “Leslie Sansone’s Two-Mile Walk,” but decided to hold out until the one-mile sequel comes out.

Finally, on page 53, I found exactly what I was looking for. My tape. Sandwiched between “Say Goodbye To Back Pain” and “Tai Chi For Seniors” was the obvious choice.

“Sit And Be Fit.”

Don’t mind if I do.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter.