On the other hand, I am the absolute poster child for balanced and well-timed caloric intake. Nothing quite like your body standing on the field while your brain has totally taken a powder break. In front of your teacher and everyone you respect. Ugh. The only saving grace is that Adrian knows I get hypoglycemic-spacey, even if he doesn't recognize *when* I'm doing it (after all, he does too), and once I'd nearly bit Kevin's nose off for getting in my face I think he also got the clue - the granola bars hadn't fully kicked in yet, s'all I can say. I mean really! He should have known I wouldn't just *stand* there if something wasn't screwy -- but maybe it's as hard to recognize from the outside as it is when you're in the middle of it. After all, I didn't grasp the problem until my legs nearly collapsed on my way off the field. Stupid stupid stupid... So I think I'm still paying for the wierd cycle of fasting/feasting with a bit of allergy/weather shift on the side. Not a happy kitty.
My competitive side is incredibly ecstatic to have finally *won* something. And the rest of me can't figure out what the heck difference it all makes. Although maybe, if I'm really lucky, I can pack my strangely focused ego away and actually go fight tourney's for fun and practice instead of *having* to go prove something. It's a nice thought. *sigh* For now, though, I need to invest in throat lozenges and vitamins... Yay season shift :/