I meant to write this last week but, my "injuries" after last week's "situation" are just healing. Â As you might remember from the last blog, I left off right as we were about to land. Â Here's what happened next: So, we touched down in Boston at 6:55 p.m. Our connecting flight was at 7:20. We had to go from terminal B to terminal C. The flight attendants said it would be about a 10-15 minute walk. We run out of the plane (thankfully the people sitting around us knew the situation). Except one of us was a few seats back and he got trapped. The girls decide to make a run for it and we figure we'll stop them from closing the gate. We start to run. I for some retarded reason had decided to take my duffle with me. Here's the picture. My InCase laptop bag strapped across my left shoulder. My duffle across my right. I take off. As I am running I realize a couple of things: 1. holy shit! I am so out of shape! 2. WTF was I thinking not bringing my suitcase with wheels! 3. These shin splints are BANANAS!
I've included a diagram of the airport here so that you can better visualize. We were at the furthest point in terminal B (of course!) and had to go to the furthest point of terminal C (why not?). The diagram I cannot include is of the hot breathing I was doing and the terrible pain I was in. As we darted across a garage, boss lady was ahead of me and I thought GO WITHOUT ME! I. Can't. Go. On. An image of me slowing down until I was lying on the ground crossed my mind. But the thought that the boys were probably behind me and might trample me as they ran made me think twice about giving up. I caught up with the boss lady and just worked through the pain.
I'd like to thank the gentleman in the business suit who, as I approached the door to terminal C calmly and confidently looked at me and said: YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE IT! I gained a little strength then. Of course, we had to go through security again. My genius plan of double knotting my sneakers backfired when I had to throw those bastards back on after the check. Once again I was behind. All this time, though, I didn't see the boys!
The boss lady and I made it to the gate. I want to tell you what time we got there. However, I couldn't see the time on my phone. This was because I was lightheaded, and slightly blind due to the lack of oxygen to my brain. As we sat there at the gate catching our breaths and thinking we were clear and could wait for the boys, we realized that this chick at the gate 1. did not like her job and 2. did not understand what the words customer service meant. She informs us that she has nothing to do with "holding the plane" and we'll have to talk to the crew. We run down to the gate only to realize someone forgot to put a plane there! It was just like the cartoons. Someone runs right to the cliff and then smoke comes out of their feet as they abruptly stop.
Yeah, um, we were about to board a '67 Camaro with propellers! How do I know this? Because when we took off, this is what it sounded like! We were able to have the crew (and by crew I mean Tom, the flight attendant) wait a couple of minutes. The boys rounded the corner. Two of them had run in flip flops. The other, has a bad hip. And all of us were spent from our run, but we'd made it on the damn plane!
Days later, I wished I'd iced my shins and the side of my leg right up by my thigh. I had marks from the straps on my arms and my shoulders are STILL sore!
I went. I ran. I made the damn plane. That is all. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go lather up with some icy hot!