Send to Friend

I spent the last few minutes hovered over the white porcelain thrown, losing what little was left of lunch, feeling oddly triumphant. It’s been some time since I stopped mid-workout to throw up. I feared maybe I had learned something. But no! I remain in no danger of enlightenment. I can still fail to warm up properly, still throw my body against the machine at a pace that would have taxed me decades ago, and I can race coughing and sputtering to spew. Progress? Maybe. Spiritual. Who knows?