thank you sir may i have another...

Here's an update: I think I blew a gasket in my stomach. Really. Maybe just a little one. After many hours of group project earlier this week I finally got home and needed dinner. Based on the grim outlook of my shelf on the fridge, I opted for Panera Bread. After a warm meal of soup and sandwich, Brian calls and is rarrin' to go play some racquetball which I'd promised. I thought it'd be fine. Right as we checked in eight sweaty freshmen waltzed in front of us and checked out all the racquets. Uh-oh. Brian says the doomed words, "let's run instead." Oh yeah, can't wait. So he says just one eight minute mile, which I'm thinking should be cake because, well, that just doesn't sound hard at all. That was before my first lap. And second. Panera no longer liked me after the third curve. And by the fifth lap this severe (and really I don't think I'm a girlie- pansy) pain shoots through my lower abdomen and decides to hang out for the completion of the mile. Encouraging Brian gets me to decently finish under 8min (thank goodness, that was embarrassing), however painful little tummy problem did not. It was faintly there when I woke up, and hung around all day afterward. And then the next day and the next day too. Just constantly but barely reminding me it's still around. Therefore I came to the conclusion that I blew a gasket. It's only logical.