All of you non soccer fans need to bear with me for the next month because the World Cup is upon us and I am seriously passionate about it. I’m not the “know every player on every roster overzealous kinda fan”, but I definitely arrange my schedule around when certain games are on. And for the first time, I am taking part in a World Cup fantasy tournament…with my old/new boyfriend’s family! I suppose that means we are in this for at least the next couple of months:) I got 5th pick, so my squad is decent considering I didn’t get the chance at any team who will likely actually win the entire thing. I will be supporting, Belgium, Portugal, Croatia and Greece. Go EUROPE!? NFL Football is the only thing more exciting than soccer to me, but that happens ever year…I shoulda booked a trip to Rio.
Aside from the big draft this weekend, I did a very couply thing. Tennis. I love being active. I actually enjoy exercise and though I don’t have an exact checklist of requirements when it comes to someone I date, being active is definitely on that list. I have realized that I have embarked on a journey with the hot human version of the energizer bunny. He wants to be active all day, everyday. I have always been the friend in the group that led the runs and the activities when my other friends were probably moaning to one another about what a fitness beatdown I am. Well now I feel like I’m being conditioned to run some ultra marathon unbeknownst to me. We go to play tennis and I leave looking like I’ve been waterboarded for 8 hours. I don’t want to appear out of shape or less athletic, so my tendency is to stay competitive and keep it going. Unfortunately I looked like a tomato about to throw up. Not the best combo. Looking heinous and out of shape. I felt like I was Melissa Mcarthy playing Federer in tennis. Shameful. I just wanted to be carried off the court on a stretcher.