The Perfect 25 Hour Day

As running camp was winding down a feeling of warning eased over me as I packed my suitcases. The feeling continued through my last night in Jacksonville, something is wrong. I tossed and turned with unrest. I managed one hour of sleep the night leading up to my 4 am departure. “Something is wrong, I can feel it.”

My answer didn’t come on the first flight. I did however, have a screaming kid over powering my ear plugs. Why is it that I (and every other person on the plane) must suffer because people cannot control their own damn kids? This question applies universally, not just on a plane. They are your kids, not mine, don’t make me suffer for your inability to exercise an command and control while your child runs a muck.

For the record I had screaming, crying, running up and down the aisles, monsters on all 6 of my flights getting me to and from running camp. Kids cry and make messes, that’s their job, got it.

My unease came to fruition when I saw my second flight was delayed. Long story short here, we spent the next 6 hours in the airport watching the Delta staff roll back our departure time hour by hour, silently internalizing our situation. By the way, you wouldn’t believe how ridiculous people can act towards gate attendants when the flight is delayed. After watching these people I had my answer for why some kids are so wild, the parents act worse than the kids. They should really be ashamed of themselves.

At hour 6 they cancelled the flight. I looked at my traveling partner, Jeff, and said “we are getting the heck out of this airport, I am not staying here over night.” After all, Jeff, a father himself, needed to get home because he promised his daughter a cup cake party.

In a brilliant move Jeff secured the last two seats on a flight to Las Vegas. The catch was that the flight left in 20 mins. We disbanded from our checked baggage and sprinted through the entire air port, down the moving walking paths, and up the stairs, wedging our bodies through the jet way door as the last two on the plane.

The plane however, was delayed…amazing. We wasted more valuable time and flew with more wild kids, and broken air vents, before making it to Vegas, thankful to be out of Minneapolis.

With no time to waste we headed for Salt Lake City, made it, no problem. In Salt Lake City we found out the flight home had only 1 seat. Jeff and I would have to split up. I had the seat so I would fly home and Jeff could fly to an alternate airport two hours drive from his house.

We were already 20 something hours into the trip and at this point it was determination and the will to overcome difficulty. There was NO WAY IN HELL I was going to hop flight leaving my wingman to drive two hours in the middle of the night. NOT AN OPTION. We had come this far together; we were finishing this sucker that way. I am not leaving my friend, I declined the seat. I booked standby for Jeff’s flight (a gutsy move) to the alternate airport two hours from his house. Miraculously I made it on.

Sheer determination and the will to preserve got us to the alternate airport, and through the two hour drive. I finally hit my massive king bed 25 hours after I awoke the previous day on 1 hour of sleep. Jeff made the 4am cup cake party. I awoke after 4 hours of sleep for my morning bike ride, never have I felt more rested or more happy to be at the Tri Palace.