So, I'm about to tell on myself.
Apparently, I'm a little crazy.
(I know this may come as a surprise to many people.)
I'm a little crazy because I've always romanticized the idea of running...but not just running....running until I puked.
For some reason, joining the ranks of the people-who-push-themselves-to-puking was a watermark that meant I was a REAL runner.
Well, this past week I hit my watermark.
I went for my long run - I'm still trying to train for my first half marathon - and had to stop because they were raising the flag. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of nausea smacked right into me. And there I was, bent over the grass next to the sidewalk, throwing it up.
And you know what?
It was NOT romantic.
It was really gross.
But, hey, at least I've joined the club.
To bad they don't give new members wet wipes and breath mints.