One Stomach Flu Away From My Goal Weight
Anyway, my TX company rented a hotel room for the night of NYE and the following night for, you know, recovery. So I was feeling a little off most of the weekend (NE was pretty uneventful, it was a nice trip, by the way) and it (the stomach bug of agony) finally hit me full force NYE. I spent that night, the following day (New Years), and a chunk of that night as well, vomiting. In fact, still today, the word "chunk" is making me queasy. So is the very thought of Potato Oles from said mexican fast food restaurant (which he ate the same, so it truly wasn't the food). My holiday, as well as his holiday by proxy, was full of movies, laying around, and me ever so gracefully un-eating everything I'd eaten in a week. Violently. It wasn't pretty. And I was being sarcastic when I just used the word "gracefully". My pain tolerance is high, but my puke tolerance ranges in the negatives. I'm a huge sissy when it comes to nausea. Throw in meeting up with dinner for a second time and I'm a blubbering mess. My unwitting company for this weekend spent his time rubbing my back, making sierra mist purchases and trash bag runs, holding my hair back, and refusing to shoot me despite my many requests that he do so.
On the light side of this, I'd gained a bit of weight the last couple weeks and this episode dropped it back down a bit. This is the only good thing that came out of it, though.
Also on NYE, we froze. As in, my city froze. Meaning I missed my Dec. 50 mile challenge by two miles. TWO fucking miles. Seriously. I'm so disappointed and a little ashamed to admit that the ice sheeting the sidewalks made me afraid to go trot my happy ass anywhere. So, yeah.
Hope all of my non-readers had a better New Year celebration than I had!
P.S. I don't really puke rainbows, but I feel this picture is more visually pleasing than what I truly puked. You're welcome.