Barfy the Girl

Banksy- girl vomiting hearts

This morning I ran like the wind at the gym. Meaning, it was a good run, one where I felt like I could have run forever on that damn contraption that goes around and around, but then I grew bored, so I got off and worked through my incredibly random line-up of yoga and body weight moves. I make sure I grunt really loudly and leave sweat covering any equipment I use, because my sweat is good luck.

Being as addicted to technology as I am, I stare at my phone whenever I get a chance (even through downward dog, which I know is committing a mortal sin).

Today I read this article by Michael Ellsberg that I am linking to because I think everyone should read it. I had some left to read after I was through with my workout, so I sat my sweaty ass down in a chair and read. I read and absorbed this amazing article until I heard a little voice next to me telling someone she felt like she was going to throw up.

I assumed those words would make me run screaming in the opposite direction, but I sprung into action, and I felt exactly like my sister. My sister seems to find herself in dramatic situations nearly always, and she is wired to jump in and help everyone and fix everything and calm people down and take charge. She’s good at it, and I make sure to keep her close if I am expecting a car to drive into a building where I am inside.

Being a total boss-hero is so unlike me, so I was a bit surprised when I told the ashen-faced fellow the girl had been talking to to go find a bucket or trashcan or something. As he scuttled off, the girl turned her head and quietly hurled a bit onto the floor. Not too much, really, just the amount that lets you know you are in for a few days of the stomach flu, and you should hidey-ho your ass back to bed and call in to work/school/your wedding all unfit.

The girl grabbed the trashcan that was procured and held it expectantly in front of her, and she apologized, as people who are embarrassed to be in such a situation are wont to do. Just the other month, when I FLEW off a treadmill at the very same gym, I found myself apologizing to someone who helped me up.

I gathered up her items and with my hand on her back, told her I could walk her to the bathroom when she was ready. I realized in that moment the extent to which I am immune to vomit. Totally doesn’t phase me at all. Any parents reading this will understand this most amazing transformation.

When Christian and I were first married, I remember my gag reflex hitting 11 when he caught his daughter’s liqui-spew in his hands. I marveled at his calm reaction and how he chose to comfort Annie instead of sprinting to the bathroom to take a 120 degree shower.

The girl at the gym felt better after releasing the hell juice from her system, thanked us and went on her way. She was most likely mortified, but I felt like damn Wonder Woman, so I hung around for the rest of the day, propped against the front desk, telling anyone who would listen of my amazing deed. Most of them enjoyed watching the video I shot of the whole thing as well.

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Comments

  1. Clare at CatsEatDogs says

    Please tell me you have a video of you flying off the dreadmill. Treadmill acrobatics is the funniest thing ever.
    You are totally Wonder Woman by the way! Or are you Barf Rescue Girl?

    • says

      I wonder if the gym might have video of it. It was truly wonderful. I hopped on a treadmill that I didn’t notice was going at full speed, flew back, scrambled to jump up and start running on it, and went flying back again. All in slow motion, of course.

  2. says

    I love and agree with the Ellsberg article. Thanks for sharing it. It is all about the stories. They are the things that stick. The stories and the vomit. They both stick.

  3. says

    You are a stone-cold hero for sure. Is the story you linked about vomit? Because I just took some vitamins and I’m already a little queasy.

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