The day I ruined Steeplechase

Steeplechase is like my family's Thanksgiving - I fly home to Georgia for it at the beginning of November and don't see any Bells again until Christmas. And, like Thanksgiving, Steeplechase revolves around food - glorious, delicious, obscene amounts of food (and wine, of course).

Until this year.

This year, I spent most of Steeplechase NOT eating. In fact, I was doing just the opposite, thanks to a bizarre-o and meritless hangover that plagued me the entire day.

Why do I share with you my unpleasant stomach situations? Because they were brought on by mostly bad decisions: I arrived home the evening before Steeplechase, sleep-deprived and highly stressed from a week spent trying to write an 18 page research paper on social media marketing. I had been up until about 1:30 the night before our flight and then woke up around 7 to take the dog to the park before we left. After much dehydrating travel, I made it to the homestead and immediately began drinking wine. Then we went to dinner, where a pomegranitini was forced upon me, followed by plate upon plate of rich food and, yes, a bit more wine.

At 5:00 AM I woke up with a mind-breaking headache and a distinct urge to empty the contents of my stomach. Not only was I upset over being sick (is there any worse feeling?), I was also upset over what had gotten me there. Four or 5 glasses of wine over the course of 4 or 5 hours? That's enough to make me sick for an entire day? Not only was it a giant fun-suck on Steeplechase day, it was downright embarrassing.

Being sick on a day devoted to the pleasures of consumption is almost certainly one of the circles of hell described in The Inferno. It probably means I'm being punished for something - like, maybe, equating an all-day drinking- and gambling-fest with a proper holiday. Powers-that-be don't seem to like it when you celebrate the wrong things like that.

To make it up to the higher powers of punishment, I have taken it seriously easy this Thanksgiving - no going out drinking the night before, getting to bed early, even doing some yoga. All good decisions, only, on a day devoted to gluttony, it feels almost wrong to be responsible and moderate.