"Pushhhhh!" the coach yelled, frustrated at how simple the task was, that all we had to do was hit something until we felt like throwing up.
In the face of every fucking thing they throw at us, they can't stop us from holding each other and taking care of each other, of staying up all night long, until we feel safe enough to go home.
In a 2010 Oprah interview, Presley admitted that they spent four years after the divorce "getting back together and breaking up", until she felt she "had to push it away".
He vowed that if he were to survive he would live his life with a sense of purpose, as up until then he felt he had been "going step after step without knowing what my ultimate goal was".
Up until then, I felt I shouldn't really be there because everyone else had an Olympic or Commonwealth title.
Up until recently I felt my entire life's happiness depended on my weight.
The three screams I manage start in the pit of my stomach, rising up until I feel the vibrations in the back of my throat, each a little shorter than the last.
Or, perhaps a better example, moving your hand up until you feel a tingling sensation signifying the air conditioning controls, before swiping left or right to turn the temperature up or down.
Lift your hips up until you feel a stretch across the top of your thighs.
Start with the easiest things to fix and work your way up until it feels like second nature to get it all done.
I, for one, am the type of person that tends to let that stress pile up until I feel ready to burst.
