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2018: Year of the Brownie

About nine days ago, I awoke in the middle of the night with intense nausea that, within a minute, had me stumbling to the bathroom in order to upchuck what seemed like an extraordinary amount of salmon and brussel sprouts. The nausea struck in three distinct waves that culminated in my body explosively emptying its digestive track through any means necessary. Woozily, I went to the kitchen to rinse out my mouth and face, and drank some water before laying on the couch. Within 30 seconds I was racing to the sink and vomiting out the water as the cat watched me calmly.

My body would continue to reject all sustenance for the next 24 hours. I stayed in bed, alternately sleeping and reading The State Boys Rebellion, an interesting but bleak journalistic recounting of a group of boys of normal intelligence who were committed to the Fernald State School, a former institution for the “feeble-minded” that is adjacent to the local conservation lands where I run. (This book paired quite well, actually, with being sickly and confined to bed.)

Though my condition improved with each day, my appetite did not return. I could eat bites of simple, bland foods, but I would quickly feel full. Even though I returned to running, I still had no interest in eating, and for about a week my diet lacked both quantity and quality.

And then, Saturday morning after returning home from a 10 mile slog along the gusty Charles River, I was suddenly ravenous. No amount of food could satisfy me. I had generous meals and snacked all day. That night, I made a tray of brownies, and ate a huge hunk after a full dinner. The next morning, I grabbed another brownie slab before a 16-mile tempo run along the bike path, and for the rest of the day I proceeded to slowly but steadily demolish the tray of brownies before anyone else in the family realized the brownies were gone. My appetite is back, and it wants brownies.

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