Mick Jagger was on to something when he sang,

I can’t get no satisfaction
I can’t get no girl reaction
‘Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
I can’t get no, I can’t get no

I lost more than 20 pounds of muscle after I sustained life-changing injuries in 2005. Since then, I’ve told myself that 175 pounds is my ideal “playing weight.” (That number was not based on science or evidence.) I imagined I would achieve a spectacular blend of muscle mass and fitness when the scale showed 25 pounds shy of 200. Step aside, Dwayne Johnson; Matt Sullivan is here!

Last week, the digital scale in the bathroom read 175.8. A tidal wave of joy washed over me, correct? I pumped my fist and high-fived the cat in celebration, yes? No. I thought, “I wish my legs and chest and arms were bigger. I’d look better if I were 200 pounds.” The Rock shoved me aside and fist-bumped the cat.

Someday, it will sink in that my “goals” are simply guideposts providing feedback as I evaluate and tweak my lifestyle. There is no finish line or top of the mountain (until my final breath).

And that’s why life is awesomely fun.