Pah Pah Pah Puker Face Pah Pah Puker Face

Doubled over, puking... again. This time leftover fish and chips dribbles out mouth, consumed four hours ago, there is nothing in my stomach. Surging from intestines, forced back into stomach, up esophagus and out my mouth there is, always when I puke from running, a profound sense of irony as some more bile with small, but recognizable, chunks lands on the ground. It wasn't a hard run, just an easy 20 minutes with a friend, still I ran until the tipping point. Some say runners are a different breed, and to some extent that is true. However, after talking to today's running friend, an accomplished college athlete, I find out he has not puked since he was 6 years old! I can eat almost any dish, tolerate a lot of pain, have mastered many physical/ mental skills, but the brain, with its give and take relationship to the body, must remember its' place because too often it can wander.