'Gravity stinks': NASA astronaut reveals harsh toll of Earth's pull after nine months stranded in space in latest health update

When NASA astronauts Barry 'Butch' Wilmore and Sunita 'Suni' Williams blasted off last June aboard Boeing’s Starliner capsule, they were scheduled for a quick eight-day hop to the International Space Station. Instead, they found themselves unwilling space castaways—stranded in orbit for an astonishing 256 days as a cascade of technical failures turned their short assignment into a nine-month odyssey.

It was the kind of space drama that seems scripted for a sci-fi thriller, with unexpected heroes and interstellar twists. And when Boeing’s beleaguered Starliner refused to bring them home, it was Elon Musk’s SpaceX Dragon that swooped in for the rescue. On March 18, the duo finally splashed down on Earth—but that triumphant return marked the beginning of an entirely different battle: readjusting to life on a planet where gravity is inescapable.

“We Were Still Floating—And My Neck Already Hurt”
Ten weeks after their return, the astronauts are still unpacking the effects of their unexpected exile in microgravity. Speaking to Reuters on Wednesday (28 May), a candid and humorous Butch Wilmore summed up the transition with unforgettable words: “Gravity stinks for a period.”

Wilmore, 62, revealed that he had chronic back and neck issues before the mission—problems that completely vanished in the weightlessness of space. But the moment Earth reclaimed him, so did the pain. “We’re still floating in the capsule in the ocean, and my neck starts hurting, while we still hadn’t even been extracted yet,” he laughed.

It’s a sobering testament to just how dramatically space reshapes the human body—and how violently gravity reasserts itself.

From Astronaut to Earthling: A Painful Transformation
For Suni Williams, the reentry was less dramatic but equally taxing. Despite following a strict in-space fitness regime—two hours of daily exercise meant to preserve bone density and muscle mass—her recovery has been anything but smooth. She described a strange, sluggish fatigue that lingered long after touchdown, making even waking up in the morning a challenge.

“For a while, I couldn’t get up when I wanted to,” Williams admitted. “Then I’m up at four in the morning, and I’m like, Aha! I’m back.”

The human body, it turns out, doesn’t forgive the absence of gravity easily. While floating in space may sound like a dream, it’s a physiological puzzle—one that NASA’s medical teams are still trying to solve.

A Mission That Keeps on Giving
Though their boots are firmly back on the ground, Wilmore and Williams are far from finished. Their unplanned endurance test has become invaluable data for NASA and Boeing, as the space agencies refine protocols for longer missions—and brace for eventual journeys to the Moon and Mars.

Now based in Houston, the pair spend their days splitting time between recovery sessions with NASA’s strength and reconditioning team and contributing their firsthand insights to the Starliner program. From balancing on wobble boards to running simulations, their mission has become a case study in human resilience—both physical and psychological.

“It’s been a little bit of a whirlwind,” Williams reflected, her voice carrying the weight of both exhaustion and awe.

The Cost of Going Where Few Have Gone
Their tale is a striking reminder: space travel isn’t just about high-tech capsules and cosmic views. It’s about what it takes to come home. The journey back to Earth may last only minutes, but the return to normalcy—well, that can take weeks, months, or perhaps never really be complete.

As humanity dreams bigger and aims farther, Wilmore and Williams are the living proof that even our boldest scientific pursuits must grapple with the oldest of forces—gravity, and the aching, beautiful burden of being human.