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Have you ever heard of a California Kicker? I had heard it but never really knew what the fuss was about. A friend of mine mentioned that it can be a great little nudge for getting over a plateau or jump starting a get-skinny-quick expedition.

So, naturally I flipped open my laptop and hit google hard. Found a great video tutorial on how this woman drinks them all the time, etc. and loves them. “I can totally do this!” I say to myself. Looks SO easy. Right?

Doesn’t she look happy and tranquil?

Wrong.

VERY WRONG.

What started off SO well took a turn for the unimaginably funny and horribly embarrassing.

Let’s start at the beginning- the starting line of my sprint disaster with the Cali Kicker. It’s about 7:00pm on a casual Thursday night and i’m home alone whipping up a delicious concoction of lemon juice, hot water and cayenne pepper. I had already gone to Whole Foods to get my needed items and some Cayenne Capsules (hey, doesn’t that sound easy enough?) to take along with my miracle drink for a little “boost” as I liked to call it.

It’s supposed to be about 1/4-1/2 teaspoon cayenne per drink, but being the overachiever that I am I did a little more like 1 1/2 teaspoons- just to kick start this little bad boy. I don’t love cayenne, but for the button on my skinny jeans to slide easily on, I would definitely drink one nasty thing. Duh!

I made my drink about 7:30 and polished it off promptly. No need to drag that out longer than necessary! I looked like a frat boy at pledge week chugging my enormous glass of warm-ish spicy nastiness. Yuck. I also took 4 capsules to “aid” in the cayenne-ness – whatever that was! But it was over quickly and no big deal.

Or so I thought.

I went to bed about midnight as I normally do, feeling completely fine. Drifted right off to sleep peacefully. About 2:30am I woke up with the most intense pain I had ever experienced, and I am not a weenie. The best explanation was teeny tiny GRENADES exploding one by one every 10-15 seconds inside my stomach. I couldn’t even yell out loud I just opened my mouth and no sound came out. That’s the moment I knew I had done something horribly wrong.

Excruciating as it was, I told myself “It’ll be ok in a few minutes- it’s just the capsules finally popping open and releasing the cayenne inside them.” As if I have a medical degree! Hahaha yeah right. It was not the capsules, it was the insurmountable stupidity of my overachievement coming back to bite me in the butt.

And now the really fun part- I am certain that I am going to vomit, something I rarely EVER do. I wish you could have seen me roll myself out of bed onto the floor. I couldn’t even stand up, I had to do the military all-fours crawl from my bedside to the bathroom. No time to hit the lights- can’t reach them anyway.

I BARELY get the lid up before Mt. Vesuvius the cayenne volcano erupts VIOLENTLY, killing everyone in its path. I am not exaggerating when I use the word projectile to describe this scene. I have never thrown-up so hard in my entire life. Best part of the story: I threw-up SO intensely that it bounced off the toilet and HIT ME BACK IN THE FACE. No joke. I am being pounded in the face by my own spicy hot vomit. The cayenne is burning my eyes! I can’t see anything from the hot burnt tears streaming from my eyes and there is no stopping it. More cayenne pepper than Mexico City consumed in 2011 was coming out of my mouth. It would be completely disgusting if it wasn’t so funny. Actually it is completely disgusting, but still hilarious.

I can’t reach the sink, all I can do to stop the burning in my eyes is blindly in the dark find the bathtub faucet and stick my face under it. Sweet relief, if only momentary. I quickly realize I am going to puke again and in one fluid motion i’m back to the giant porcelain bowl I now call home. I threw-up more than I ever imagined possible. Over and over and over again- relentless revenge of the cayenne.  My lips are burning from all the spice and my esophagus feels like it was lit on fire. I am mentally mapping out how I can possibly get to my phone should I need to call 911.

It finally subsides enough to give my aching knee caps a break. It’s still pitch black and every time I try to get up I puke, so I reach around to find any hope of something I may have left on the floor. JEANS! It was like a tiny miracle. I found a lonely pair of jeans- the same skinny jeans that lead me to this catastrophic event. I fold them up gently and use them as a pillow on the hard bathroom floor. I finally close my eyes and close the chapter of this nightmare.

I can hear my alarm blaring at 7:00am from my phone on my nightstand. I realize it’s morning and I have successfully gotten a little sleep on the bathroom floor as I am curled up around the toilet like it’s my long lost lover. I stand to look in the mirror because I KNOW this will be a sight to behold. Something is wrong with my face! I get closer to examine the damage. WHAT THE?? My left eye has a blown blood vessel and all around my left temple has spidered from vomiting at olympic record velocity. I look like someone hit me in the face, bruised my temple and busted up my eye. Blood red and completely hideous. Awesome. I have to be at school in an hour and I am pretty sure this broken blood vessel is going to be hanging around for a while.

Thankfully, I feel pretty okay. Considering I just spent the worst night of my life on the floor, I feel surprisingly good.

Moral of the story kids- Cayenne is not your friend. Well, maybe it could be if you don’t take so much that your stomach goes all kamikaze on you and tries to kill you from the inside out.

Hope my worst vomiting story of all time taught you a valuable lesson and brought a smile to your face in the process.

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