Monday, June 23, 2014
The reaction from millions of your fellow Americans at the last kick of today's world cup game, as it lofted right to an open Portuguese player's head and into the American net, for a last gasp tie. It felt like we'd lost though, the way they pulled their fat out of the fire at the last possible moment, and made Thursday's games meaningful, when the US had a golden ticket to the next round already in hand.
Jumping on the scale is like that sometimes, when you find that you have stayed even, or lost just a tiny but, even though you had eaten decently and exercised, but made that one late error, grabbed that one last bit of salty goodness, I mean badness, that WILL reflect on the scale. Knowing the number you see should be better than it is, feels like a gain, even if it really is equal or better by a tad than the previous number.
I say that because I just realized I'm engaged in that very, silly, last minute behaviour at the moment. I've been relatively good the past week, and though I haven't done all that much exercise due to injury, I did go to the gym today. But given what I just put away, I kind of suspect that the scale won't be as kind as it should be. And it will feel like a negative, though any movement in the downward direction deserves happy thought.
Self inflicted wound, this one. I'll try to have to keep it in mimd for the next such occasion/opportunity.