Sh... it happens.

Sometimes things happen that we just cannot control. It's a fact of life. You just have to accept it.

That's really easy to tell other people, but when it applies to you... it's a whole different story. Allow me to paint you a picture.

This morning, like any other Tuesday or Thursday morning, I attended a spin class at my university gym. This morning's class was particularly difficult to push through, which confused me for the entire hour. "Is this a different bike than I'm used to?" "Maybe the resistance is different on this one." "Wow, this is a tough class today..." which was weird, because the class is the exact same each time. I shushed the thoughts and did what I could to activate beast mode.

By the end of the hour, I was totally wiped out in the best possible way. You know that post-awesome-workout-am-I-still-alive feeling? Fantastic. I followed the instructor through a very peaceful, calming cool down session and basked in the stretching instruction that followed. I swear, there's nothing better than rewarding your tired body with a good cool down after hard work. I was really feeling on top of the world at this point.

The instructor turned the lights back on (our gym is gracious enough to leave lights off during cardio classes, which I'm grateful for because otherwise everyone else would well aware of the fact that I tend to drown in my own face during exercise) and I began to wipe of my bike, when it hit me.

Am I about to puke?

I straightened, baffled by the feeling as the room began to gently sway. "What the hell?" It began to hit in waves, a sickening warmth and churning that filled my stomach and head. I held still for a minute or two, waiting for it to pass, as the rest of the class began to exit the studio. My hopes weren't fulfilled, and I knew there wasn't much time before I added some color to the walls.

I made my way to the door as quickly as I could, though the floor felt like it had been replaced with a trampoline. I mentioned previously that my class is at a university gym, and the students seem very adherent to our generations stereotype: distracted by cell phones and ipods, they all congregated directly outside the door of the studio. On my left was a massively muscular and tall boy, blasting music into his eardrums, and to his right was another boy who had adorned a backpack so large and full that it occupied any space I could've used to squeeze past. Beyond them was a daunting sea of swarming teenagers, and I could see the entrance to the women's locker room just beyond them and to the left. I have never wanted anything so much than to reach that door. I attempted to make my way through the crowd, but its unwavering strength held me back.

"Excuse me," I sputtered out, but naturally nobody heard the little mouse, all blissfully unaware of the impending doom and potential vomit tidal wave.
"EXCUSE ME," I practically barked at the massive boy, who jumped and turned to look at me. Even if he had moved in time, it wouldn't have mattered, because at that moment my body decided it had had enough and took over. It forced me to kneel and to empty the contents of my stomach next to this poor boy's feet. He responded in a way that I really cannot blame him for: with an enthusiastic, "Aw, F**K," the entire crowd turned in curiosity.

Let me tell you, that sure cleared them out quick. Note to self: If I'm ever caught in a huge crowd, just puke. They'll head for the hills.

Anyway, that's my story of incredible embarrassment today. I'm off to class, but while I'm gone, tell me about the most humiliating, uncontrollable event that's ever happened to you in public Let's hear it!