I made it in one piece.
Woke yesterday with a bit of tummy ache and Mom bitching at me for not doing enough (like she takes a break on vacation), but of course couldn't dwell on that because it was the morn of the Coon Creek Classic 2k that I was running.
Didn't have time to eat. That was a mistake.
It isn't long into the race that I'm feeling awful. I walk a bit and get to the 1/2 way point and see Sarah. In my mind I'm thinking, "I can't let the gimp beat me" so naturally I start giving it my all again until the sickness returns. I finish ahead of Sarah at 16.4 mins. (What a terrible time for a bit over a mile!)
I'm getting ready to leave on my afternoon Metra train when I feel worse: fatigue, almost malaise, just needing to rest, but I have no time really for that; so I continue packing and have some OJ and Grapenuts.
Dad gets me to the station and we stop for a water bottle in a bakery and the combination of bakery on the bottle and the car moving, I feel I'm getting sick. I open the car door in the middle of the street and upchuck.
I get on the Metra safely and just rest my eyes until Union Station in Chicago. All along the way I'd open my eyes to see what Illinois up to Chicago looked like. It was quaint until Chicago. Chicago=brick, trashy city. I guess Chris was right.
I get into the train station and head straight for a recycling bin with an open bin. There are people sitting on benches next to it, but vomit doesn't wait for niceties and politeness. I upchuck water. (I accidently wipe my mouth with my hand and wipe that on my shorts. Good thing everyone was in too big of a hurry to notice.)
Pick up a pack of gum and I'm pointed in the direction of the Amtrak station and finally find the machine to print out my tickets. Fortunately I find another woman who is on my train to Michigan and follow her in the line until we board separate cars on the train.
A nice seemingly affluent woman sits next to me on the train and for some reason I envison myself apologizing for vomiting all over her. Luckily, I made it to the bathroom. I had tried to use the Metra train trich and just close my eyes but this ride was a lot longer and bumpier. I turn to the woman next to me and ask her quickly and politely, "Where are the bathrooms?" She tells me at the end of the car and I don't wait for her to reposition to let me by: I leap over her in my socks and quickly pull the sliding door shut and let my stomach relieve itself. Saliva and bile.
Used up my laptop battery listening to music to distract me and warming me in the subzero temperatures of that car. The rest of that train ride was uneventful.
Found Megan and her "wing man" the "Bonster" or Bonnie. Lovely ladies both of them. They are great friends and wonderful hostesses. We went to the D&W "their store" to get some ill person grub and as Megan is walking away from the car throw-up #4 happens outside my cardoor. Somehow, she had paper towels in the car and as she hands one to me I apologize and take it to wipe my mouth. She makes sure I'm okay and I'm left to study the mustard yellow bile and clear liquid that is my vomit until they come back with loads of stuff.
We get home and I see Uncle Marty for two second and their dogs Gracie and Sam and I lean next to their toilet until I'm feeling well enough to just rest in my bed.
I wake 2 hours later and scarf down my toast and cherry JELL-O. I'm feeling much better.
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