I think one of the biggest reasons I don't blog regularly is that I have nothing new to say. I am in such a horrible rut. I worked out ONE DAY last week (as I mentioned). The rest of the week just faded into nothingness. Tuesday was our anniversary so we went out instead of hitting the gym. Wednesday we went, as our big anniversary gift to each other, to a really nice restaurant called Texas de Brazil, a place we've only eaten once before, because it's so expensive. Well, as I've described previously, it's basically an orgy of meat. So, no dieting there. Blew off the gym Thursday because I needed to prepare to be out of town for the weekend. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday involved some physical activity (rafting and kayaking) but also some eating out at restaurants. Too tired yesterday recovering from the weekend to work out. So I've gone a whole week with no gym. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The scale definitely shows it; highest weight in a long time this morning (187). So, I'm headed to the gym now. If I can just break out of this slump, I might be able to start making it all a habit again. A good habit, instead of the bad one I've developed.

Through one of those weird "one thought leads to another which leads to another" days, it occurred to me that it has to be around the anniversary of the death of my bunster. He died about this time, middle of August, 2003, at the bunny-elderly age of seven and a half.

I got Bump, as he came to be called, when he was about two months old and I was about to begin my first year of grad school in 1996. I had spoken to the two girls who were to be my roommates, and we all decided we wanted a pet. However, our landlord did not allow dogs and cats. Since a rather large loophole existed (he only mentioned dogs and cats, no other animals), we wanted something that had some personality and would interact with us. My brother mentioned that he knew someone (who knew someone) who raised rabbits. "What the heck," I thought. So I went and picked him out of the crowd of other bunnies.

I wanted to name him Archimedes, and maybe call him Archie for short, but the first night I had him his true name appeared. The people who had bred him had kept the rabbits in wire hutches. I had put him in a glass aquarium with an open screen top. He looked through the glass and in his little bunny mind he thought, "I can see through it...I can GO through it." And bump bump bump on the glass all night long. And so he was Bump.

He was not the brightest animal in the world, although he was terribly handsome. A "broken chinchilla" Holland lop, he had a beautiful pattern of dark silver fur kind of like an inkblot. He had bright eyes, big fuzzy feet, a little tail-tuft on his butt, and long ears that he could at best hold straight out to the sides when he was very interested in something. He went everywhere at full-tilt, bouncing off furniture, smashing into door frames, and crashing headlong into the wall one day when he couldn't make the turn fast enough. He knocked himself unconscious, broke his top front teeth off (beginning a life-long necessity of clipping the teeth with wire cutters because they didn't wear themselves down on the lower teeth after that), and precipitated the vet to suggest that we make him a little bunny crash helmet with holes for his ears. We didn't, and he never crashed into the wall again, but he didn't slow down all that much.

Bump was very lovable, at least to me. He would play with my roommates (he loved fetch, and if you gave him car keys he'd throw them up in the air for hours--and then they'd land on his head), but when I'd call him he'd come barrelling down the hall to me. I'd pucker up and make smooching noises, and he'd climb into my lap and squint his eyes and put his nose up to receive bunny kisses. He loved to have his nose rubbed, between his eyes. He'd flop on the ground, close his eyes, and go into a state of bunny nirvana until you stopped rubbing, and then he'd look at you like, "Are you kidding? You aren't done yet."

He was mostly potty trained, doing most of his liquid business (he'd forget occasionally) in a litter box. He also slept in it sometimes. Eew, I know. He got better about leaving his pellets in the box, but I'd find them in various locations in the house on a somewhat regular basis, so he never really got the hang of it. He'd walk on a leash, sort of, although he only wanted to go as far as a tasty patch of grass in the yard. He did get destructive when he was ignored--he'd get a hold of a book and tear pages out, or he'd scratch at the carpet. When we moved out at the end of the school year, I had to roll pieces of duct tape and place them over the backing of the carpet that was left on the floor, and then I took all the pieces of yarn that had been scratched off the carpet and put them rather painstakingly back in place. I don't know if the landlord ever realized that the carpet was damaged, but we did get our security deposit back, so maybe he never noticed.

My inlaws had a collie who loved Bump. Rex would race up to me as soon as I got to their house and sniff the rabbit through his travel cage. I'd set the cage down and open it, and Rex would shove his head in and sniff nose to nose with Bump. When Bump hopped out onto the floor, Rex would follow him and nudge him whenever he stopped hopping. I assume he must have been trying to herd him somewhere.

He learned to beg for treats. His favorite treats were M&Ms. I'd break them in half and give him a few pieces (I know, some of you are freaking out because chocolate is bad for animals, but rabbits can tolerate it much better than dogs or cats because rabbits are related to rodents). He'd sit up and wait for the pieces, and make this funny noise.

Probably my favorite thing about Bump was the noise he'd make. I always thought that rabbits were silent, but Bump would make this weird noise when he was really excited about something, sort of a "voot". The best description I can give is, put your bottom lip and top teeth together and make a long "v" sound, and put a "t" on the end without actually taking your teeth off your lip. He'd do it repeatedly: "Voot voot voot voot voot" as he bounded around the room and played. I have no idea what it meant, and he did it less and less as he got older, but it was a very unique sound and pretty funny to hear.

When Bump got older, he slowed down. He played less, he ran around less, and he spent more and more time lying around and sleeping. Finally, he stopped eating. I knew the end was near. The morning he died he was still alive when I left to go to work, but he wouldn't move from his little bed. I petted him and spent about half an hour talking to him. When I had to leave, I told him that if it was time for him to go, he needed to go and I loved him. My husband left an hour or so later, and he said he was unresponsive but still breathing. I knew by the time I got home that afternoon he'd be gone. And he was. So I called the vet's office and asked if I could take his body to them for them to take care of. I wrapped him in a t-shirt, placed him in a box, and drove him the three blocks to the office.

The interesting thing was, my dog didn't trust me for a few days after this. He was home with Bump all day, and I know he was aware that Bump had died. But he also knew that the bunny LEFT THE HOUSE with me, but I came back and HE DIDN'T. The dog didn't want me to take him for a walk for several days. I think he thought I'd take him and leave him wherever I took the rabbit.

Anyway, all of these memories were triggered by one of those random thought connections. Someone was typing about Monty Python's Holy Grail, and mentioned Zoot (bad, evil, wicked, naughty Zoot), which made me think "voot" which made me think of the bunny and made me realize it's been almost exactly four years since he died.

I miss him. He was sweet, friendly (although jealous of my husband), and cuddly. He made a great Easter bunny (he loved to get into the baskets and make a mess). And he looked like a furry little airplane with his ears sticking out to the sides.

Meh. Didn't make it to the gym this a.m. I didn't go to sleep as early as I wanted, and then I slept poorly, so I reset the alarm at about 3:30 and slept 'til 5:30. Didn't do that well at keeping the food to a minimum today either, as it was a coworker's birthday. A little party at lunch with a little cake and a little punch and, well, you can guess what the problem was. I didn't adjust the rest of my eating for the day, which I should have done.

It seems like my life is starting to revolve around 100-calorie packs of things, and generally prepackaged meals. I have 100-calorie packs of Cheese Nips, Oreo Crisps, Doritos, even Hostess Snack Cakes (man, those are so disappointing compared to a nice full-size package of cupcakes). I've got Healthy Choice meals (usually under 300 calories) for lunches. For dinner we've been using those Bertolli bagged skillet meals (serves two, ready in ten minutes). It's all great, but I'm wondering if I'll ever develop the ability to cook and eat an appropriately-sized meal. How do you cook for two and not scarf down any leftovers? It makes me question the long-term success of anyone on a prepackaged meal system, like Jenny Craig or Nutrisystem.

I did make it to the gym after school, although it wasn't the most impressive workout I've had. I made 15 minutes on the elliptical machine (I will credit myself that I set it on a higher resistance than usual) and just pooped out. I switched to the treadmill (feeling a little dizzy for the first minute or so) and went for another 30 minutes.

So, not the best start back on the road to thinness, but it is a start nonetheless.

Ooookay, it's been a little while since my last post. Very little has changed. Due to a variety of circumstances, I have not made it to the gym regularly as I had planned, I have not done much in the way of monitoring my food intake, and basically everything is exactly as it was two weeks ago. My weight is still at about 184. However, I have hope that things will start to improve. School has started, so I've got a routine now, and I can control the amount of food that goes to school with me, so I should be able to limit my intake. We're working on a little vehicular problem that has caused my husband and me to share a vehicle for the last week or so, and if we can get that straightened out today I should be able to start back to the gym in the morning tomorrow. I have hope.

Life has sort of stagnated, as my husband put it. We got a glimpse of a place we would love to live, Boise, ID. I know, you're thinking, "Idaho? What the $&%^ is in Idaho?" Well, other than potatoes (my second favorite food group), there's a surprising amount of stuff in Idaho. We went to get a glimpse of Boise State, where my brother-in-law is considering going for grad school. Boise State was OK, somewhat unremarkable to someone who has been surrounded by SEC campuses for the past nine years but overall not bad. But the town was incredible. The actual city of Boise has around 200,000 residents, and the surrounding area (Nampa, Meridian, Eagle, and some other small towns) create a metro area of about 600,000 total. So it's not small, but it has a nice small-town feel. Boise is known as the City of Trees, and the city is very green and verdant, especially if you consider that the surrounding land is brown and scrubby. It's a very earthy town, with lots of people riding bikes, skating, or running everywhere. All the streets have bike paths, there are bike racks at every corner and outside every shop, and there is a greenbelt system of city parks numbering around 50. The Boise River runs straight through town, and there are paved pathways running alongside the river for about 25 miles on either side. Everywhere we went there were people outside enjoying the day. But as green and granola as it was, it didn't have that aggressive "we're so green and liberal" feeling, the feeling that places like Boulder, CO and Eugene, OR have. Idaho seems to have a pleasant mix of environmentalists and red state Republicans. We were very impressed. But of course, now that we've gotten that glimpse of Boise, we're stuck in the South. A possible promotion has popped up for my husband at work, and if it ends up happening it will trap us here for a few years more. And the whole thing has just made us dissatisfied with living here in general. It was a bit of a tease.

Anyway, that's just a little of life right now. I'll let you know if I'm able to get back on track tomorrow.

Well, crap.

Here I am, less than two weeks away from the beginning of the new school year, and I have nothing to report.

I'm at pretty much the same place I was at the end of the school year, hovering at 180 lbs. Did I spend the summer at the gym like I said I would? Nope. Did I carefully monitor my food intake? Not really. Did I increase the difficulty or length of my workouts? No. So, why am I disappointed that I haven't lost any weight the past two months?

The summer has pretty much been a waste in other ways. I had planned on spending a couple hours a week playing the guitar, which I haven't played in several years. You guessed it--never happened. I was going to spend a little time each day carefully planning out my curriculum for the school year, since I was making changes in both the content and my scoring methods. Of course not. I was going to pick a different room in the house each week and thoroughly clean and reorganize. Did I actually do it? Well, that's the only thing I did this summer, and even then it was pretty half-assed. I started out strong, busting out a cleaning and reorganization of the bathroom in just one day. Then it was several weeks before I got around to the next room, the utility/laundry room. Took a couple days to do that one. And then there was a lot of sitting around, doing nothing all day long, until I had to spend two frantic days (with my husband's help) cleaning the rest of the house so it wouldn't look like a total disaster when my company came to visit. So, the house got cleaned and somewhat reorganized, but not to the level I had originally intended.

And now it's all over. We'll be out of town for the weekend, and then I've only got a day before I have to report to school for a week of inservice. So my summer vacation is over. I have nothing really to show for it.

I'm very tired and frustrated. If I come up with these plans and can't follow through with them, what's the point of coming up with the plans in the first place? I know that "no one can do it for me" and I have to take the initiative, but I've tried all this time and can't make myself do what needs to be done. So, is there any hope?

I need to go back to the beginning. I need to make some changes. First, I need to go back to morning workouts on a regular basis. I've gradually drifted away from hitting the gym in the morning, and that can't be the case. So, that's the first change. Next, I need to go back to a full hour of cardio. I've eased up on myself and often only do 30 or 45 minutes of cardio. I also need to increase the difficulty of my cardio. They say (whoever "they" are) that your body gets used to doing the same thing over and over again, so the 30-45 minutes of cardio at the same resistance level and the same pace has gradually gotten less and less effective. I also need to go back to including weight lifting on a regular basis. To increase the amount of calories burned, I need to increase the mass of muscle available to burn those calories. And lastly, I need to rigorously follow some kind of eating plan. It's too easy to destroy whatever progress I've made by overeating. I've always eaten a large amount of food at a sitting, and that hasn't really changed, even as we've made some progress over the past few years with the exercising. I need to train myself to eat less.

It's all well and good for me to say all these things that I need to do. It's another thing entirely for me to actually do all of this. I haven't managed to accomplish anything yet. I simply don't know if I'll be able to do this or not.