Hi everyone!
Sunday night we packed up a small backpack with an extra pair of socks and headed to Terre Haute, IN the home of the country’s best distance running, the NCAA Championships. Our women were ranked in the top 20 going in to the race. I want to say it was 4th. The trip was supposed to be quick, a 36 hour tour that ended up being an adventure that had us delayed and freeway stopped.
The race unfortunately did not end up well for the Huskies. We finished 16th. My heart goes our for those girls who really rallied and worked hard to get sharp and ready for the NCAA battle. But in this sport, sometimes you just aren’t on. And we were not. As we left INDY with our heads hanging low, we got to the airport with an hour to spare. Someone had a great idea to get dinner before we departed. How were we supposed to know that our food was going to take 47 min, leaving us with 13 min to get through security and to our gate? That should have been plenty right? WRONG! It would have been if not for the lovely body scan I received from TSA. I was prepared for the whole search; at one point I thought the TSA chick was going to check my boobs for something malignant. After I got the “OK, you are good…no bomb or weapons on you, enjoy your flight, have a great day” nod to put my shoes and stuff back on, we jetted to the gate. I forgot to tell you, at the initial check in, we didn’t have assigned seats so we were going to have to get that at the gate. With two minutes to spare we had arrived to our gate that was boarding the last few Seattle bound travelers, and the only reason I know that it was two minutes is because the attendant at the counter got on her handy dandy mic and announced if “Audra Smith and…..(other passengers who were running on the late train with me) do not pick up their tickets in 2 min, they will be given away! WTF?!
“HEY HEY…I’m here with tiny little sweat beads on my forehead, Please don’t give our tickets away…Let us go home.” Oh crap, I have to pee and I have a middle seat!
As we were taxing out, the Pilot comes on the loud speaker saying that our flight into Denver should be smooth and skies are clear. Enjoy your flight. I sat next to a lady with three little boys under the age of three. I will admit they were very polite and well behaved. The little boy, Vincent who sat next to me had evidence of ketchup and chocolate on his face and smelled like poop. Every few minutes I would get a whiff of pooh.
Getting to Denver was a breeze. The landing was great and all the little boys were happy. Until we arrive to our connecting flight only to find out that it has been changed to an hour later. Raul, who I am going to rename Dirty Truck Driver, began to search his phone for weather updates in Sea Town. There were several reports about freeways being closed, cars being abandoned and even a plane sliding off the runway on account of the friggin’ ice. In a nutshell we were getting pretty nervous to fly back to Seattle and as our time of departure continued to get later and later into the night we weren’t sure we were going to see Seattle until the next day.
But as some would say “The show must go on” and we boarded the plane. I was smashed between two wonderful people who eased my nerves as we tackled the treacherous trip back to the PNW. Because of the late departure our tv was free so to keep me sane I watched a handful of Real Housewives and Millionaire Matchmaker. That lady is a Rock star. On our final decent down I was terrified! The plane was bobbing up and down on the count of the wind and I could see the houses and lights swaying back and fourth. Then all of a sudden my heart begins to pound super fast….is this what a heart attack feels like? Should I yell to the front of the plane to Dirty Truck Driver that I love you and its been real? Then we get closer to the ground….I squeeze my eyes shut and my fingernails grip the seat and the lady’s knee on my right bracing myself for the slippery landing, she taps my shoulder and points out the window, claps and says….”We make it!” Oh I could have kissed her! I was safe….
Then we jump in the truck test the roads and make our way back to the casa. Freeway was desolate, cars and trucks stranded. Buses abandoned. We thought we would be home in about 20 minutes….then the exit for I90 approached and so did big red brake lights. We sat in traffic and moved inches every 20 minutes. Our trip had been running for 4 hours already since we had touched down. Right around 2:30 our low fuel light comes on…Dirty Truck Driver says a few unrepeated words and then as always for me, pure panic sets in. I’m spiraling in my head how the hell we are going to make it home…should we walk? Pull to the side of the road and call someone? Sleep in the car? Oh god…we are going to die right here! Well my overreaction lead to some movement that resulted in us getting a shitty javelin throw further but got us to an exit that lead us to gas!!!! Yippie. Now we are not going to die. Then it got even better. We decided to ditch the freeway and take snowy icy side roads. An angel from the DOT appeared from heaven with a snow plow as a halo. We followed behind her all the way to Husky Stadium, HOME SWEET HOME!
What a trip! So glad to be back with Tweedle dee and Tweedle dumb.
Note to self…on my next trip, I’m going to go easy on the liquids. I swear I peed every 30 min.
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