Truly thankful this year for my health, my friends, and my family. It’s been a great and momentous year! Hoping everyone will have some special moments with your friends & family during this time of remembrance.
Running/jogging - up until just recently, that was an activity I thought would be best left to others. I’ve never been a runner, per se. I still remember our mile runs in Jr High School. Oh how I dreaded those. Sweating, gasping, choking, wheezing, pain in my feet, ankles and legs. Yeah, that was one of my least favorite things to do. I would have rather played dodgeball than run a mile. I would have rather received a swirlie than put myself through that torture. I would have rather get my fingers slammed in a door again and again and again than…..oh never mind. You get the idea.
It’s not that I’m not an active person. I’ve always been active in one form or fashion. Basketball in junior high. Volleyball and table tennis in high school. Fencing in college. Ultimate frisbee, cycling and adventure racing in recent years. In fact, I’ve ridden two centuries (that is, 100 miles) in the past couple of years. I’ve done a metric century (100 km = 66 mi) WITHOUT STOPPING. I’ve done multiple 40+ mile adventure races which lasted anywhere from 9 to 15 hours. And you know what? I had a lot of fun doing those. But the thought of running even a mile, until recently, was compeletely and totally undesireable. Yes, I know tons of people who run. But how can they derive any joy from doing such a painful, body jarring activity? To me, running was NOT fun. Not in any single form or fashion. Every time I tried, I wouldn’t last more than a couple of minutes until I was gasping, feeling pain in my feet, and pain in my chest. Unless there was a specific reason to be running (i.e. ultimate or basketball), I DESPISED long distance runs. And when I say “long distance”, I mean anything longer than what I could sprint for a few seconds. Up until recently, everytime I thought I’d “TRY” out running would basically last only a few runs until I quit in discouragement.
There was something I wasn’t getting. I had no idea what this “runner’s high” that people kept on talking about. What high? To me, the runner’s high was like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Some mythical reward that was made up to inspire people to run. Some elusive trophy that people had in their mind to rationalize the torture of running. In my case, every time I ran, I just hurt. I felt like running was this joke told to all athletes and no matter what I tried or thought, I didn’t get the punchline. I WAS the punchline. People I knew who weren’t nearly as active as I was managed to run and do marathons. So why couldn’t I? Runner’s high? Forget that. I would even settle for a runner’s medium if it wasn’t so gosh darn painful and unenjoyable.
Late this summer, I decided that for once and for all, I would try again. Inspired by my BIL Seth who has done several marathons, Tina (a former adventure racing teammate who was starting to train for a marathon herself), my father and my sister (both of whom have run a marathon), I was determined to become a runner, even if it killed me. What I needed was a structured running plan. Something that specified exactly how far to run, how fast to run, instead of just running as far as I could every day. The more I researched it, the more I was convinced that I needed to start off nice and easy. All my previous attempts had me pushing the envelope from the very start, which caused me pain and suffering, and resulted in discouragement and me quitting. Yes, I was active, but not in the running sense. I had the cardio for running, just not the legs nor the strength required in my legs for running.
In looking at all the half-marathon and marathon training schedules, all of them seemed to require the ability to run 2 or 3 miles at the very beginning. That wasn’t going to work for me. I couldn’t even run a single mile. Well, I probably could if I had to, but that was ALL I could do. And I sure wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I needed to set my sights a little lower. I needed an easier goal. It was at this point when I discovered a training program called Couch-to-5k (C25k). It was a 9-week plan designed to help anyone (specifically couch potatoes) train to run a 5k. All it required was a 30-35 minute workout 3 times a week. The regime would consist of intervals of jogging/running and walking. During the early weeks of the plan, it would be more walking than running. Then approximately equal amounts until it was primarily running. It certainly looked very do-able. I had found it - the holy grail of running. The more I read, the more people I read about who had completed the C25k program. And they had continued on from there to run half-marathons and full marathons.
Seeing as how I wasn’t completely a couch potato, more like a motorized recliner sort of potato, I decided to start off with week 3 of the program. All the workouts started off with a 5-min warm-up walk. That week focused on 2 repetitions of a 90-sec jog/90-sec walk, and 3-min jog/3-min walk. When I first started training for adventure racing years ago, I had actually got fitted for running shoes from a running store, so I knew I at least had the proper shoes for my running style and gait. I set out with my mp3 player, my GPS, and my stopwatch/timer. The first workout went really well. It WAS somewhat strenuous, but I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out at any second. It was encouraging to see exactly how much time I had left for each interval of running, instead of running for some arbitrary amount of time. Upon reaching my house, I actually felt GOOD. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would ever feel good from running. It was a workout for sure, but I wasn’t in pain. I was breathing hard and sweating, but my lungs weren’t suffocating for oxygen. My legs were a little sore, but not overly so. Wow. It was then that I knew I could do this.
After the first week, I was still feeling good. By then, I had discovered a couple of running podcasts that were made specifically for Couch-to-5k. First, there is Robert Ullrey’s podcasts, and then I also found Podrunner intervals. The podcasts were perfect. Both of them had podcasts tailored to correspond directly to each week’s workout. Not only that, the biggest benefit was that the podcasts indicated when you were to transition from running to walking and vice versa. While I still kept track with my watch, it was nice to just listen to the music and KNOW when it was time to switch. The podrunner intervals had the added benefit of having music with different tempos, depending on whether you were running or walking.
The weeks passed and I continued to progress through the C25k program. The first big obstacle came on the Week 5 Day 3 workout. Whereas before that, the workouts incorporated both walking and running, that particular day’s workout consisted entirely of running (20 minutes worth, in fact). And guess what? I did it. Again, I felt tired and pretty worn out afterwards, but I had run the entire 20-minutes without stopping. In a few short weeks (3 weeks to be exact), I had gone from barely being able to run any distance at all to running 2 miles!! And the biggest thing? I felt GREAT, especially afterwards, after I had some time to cool down. For the first time in my life, I have actually started to ENJOY running. Have there been workouts where I didn’t feel all that well afterwards? Sure. Have there been workouts that I didn’t fully complete (i.e. didn’t run for the entire interval)? Sure, but those are few and far between. I discovered that in those cases, it was mostly because I hadn’t drank or eaten enough before my workout. I’ve learned it’s easier to run when it’s cool than when it’s humid. I’ve learned that you REALLY don’t want to lace up your shoes too tightly as that causes pain in your feet while running. I know I don’t know everything there is to running and that I’m just starting off on this journey, but at least I’m motivated and committed.
I was hoping to add a 5k to my competition repertoire yesterday, but because of my ankle sprain a week ago during my Week 9 Day 1 workout, I didn’t get the chance to compete. While down, I am definitely NOT out. After my ankle heals, I’m fully committed to resuming my training, even if I have to humble myself and go back a few weeks in my training schedule. I can definitely see myself doing a 5k in the not so distant future. And after that? Who knows? Maybe a 10k, maybe a half-marathon. And then we’ll see. We’ll see if I ever want to attempt a full marathon.
*****
On an unrelated note, I just wanted to add my sincerest thanks and appreciation to all of those who have stumbled here to my blog as a result of the Pioneer Woman’s blog entry about her Walmart book signing. I truly appreciate all your heartfelt comments and compliments. I’ve decidedly been walking on cloud 9 ever since she mentioned me specifically in her blog (although not by name) and it’s inspired me to write more! I’m glad I was able to be there and to be able to provide a descriptive write-up of the event for those who aren’t able to attend. I made her sour cream pancakes this morning and my entire family loved them. “Best pancakes ever!” was the unanimous vote. I also highly recommend her baked fudge which my wife swears is chocolate decadence. Until next time…
Last night, I had the wonderful opportunity to meet one of my internet “heroes” I’ve come to admire and adore (in a truly platonic sense, trust me!). Ree Drummond, author of The Pioneer Woman blog, stopped in Little Rock to do a book signing of her NYT #1 bestselling cookbook - The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl. The only downside was the BEST Arkansas had to offer a NYT bestselling author was a WALMART, of all places.
The book signing was scheduled to start at 6pm, but with Ariel having piano lessons until 6:30pm, the earliest I could get there was 7pm. I even pleaded with my wife to see if she could skip her piano lesson, just this once. “Nope,” she told me, “she already missed a couple of weeks ago. You’re just going to have to wait to meet your internet icon.” And with Braden starting basketball practice, there was no way for Jen to get out there either. As the time started getting closer, I started thinking about what I would say to Ree when I met her. After all, here I was, getting to meet a true internet celebrity! Should I tell her how much I enjoy her recipes? Should I tell her what a big fan I am of her photography? What about homeschooling? My mind raced a million miles a minute as I searched for the perfect combination.
As Ariel and I drove out to the Walmart at the outskirts of town, I wondered how many people were going to be there. After all, this IS Arkansas. How many fans in Little Rock could she really have? “Maybe the line will be thinned out by the time we get there,” I mused to myself. When we got there, I was in shock. There was a line. A OMGXOBXHUEG line. In fact, the line started at the front of the store, ran down the middle aisle all the way to the back of the store as far as I could see. Any hope for a quick meet, greet, and sign was dashed.
I think the song “Women” from Def Leppard summed it up best:
“Women! Women! Lots of pretty women…”
“Men! Men! They sure feel out of place among them!”
Okay, so I took some liberties with the lyrics but still. Yeah, I felt a bit out of place being one of the few men in line. Ok, I felt QUITE a bit out of place being one of the few UNACCOMPANIED men in line. There were a few men, but most were there with their significant others. While I on the other hand, was there for myself. Yep, I can proudly say that I fall firmly in category #3 from Ree’s list: I was there of my own accord.
Ariel and I made our way to the back of the line which turned the corner and then went down another couple of aisles. By the time the line reached Ree from where we started, I had plenty of time to peruse DVDs (nearly the entire $5 rack), crappy videogames, towels, men’s clothes, and jewelry. In fact, about 2 hrs and 50 minutes worth of time.
I was soon joined by 3 beautiful, charming women in line behind me that I struck up a conversation with. One of them had a beautiful, gorgeous infant baby girl. Like myself, they each had a handful of kids, were homeschoolers, and obviously fans of PW. My only regret was not getting their names, so if you’re reading this let me know! They asked me if I was there for my wife or if I was there for myself. I proudly admitted that I was there for myself and that I fell firmly in category #3. If there was any doubt that I actually read PW’s blog, that statement right there quashed it completely. They were impressed, I could tell. They were even more impressed that I had tried out several of her recipes. Yes, ladies, I cook, I photograph, and I blog (well, used to anyway).
At one point, I said loudly, “I would guess we would have at least 2 hrs to wait until we reached PW.” Shortly after that, a couple of women in front of me left altogether. I joked even more loudly, “I mean, I think it’s going to take at least 3 hrs…” Sadly, unknown to me at that time, that prediction would be more accurate.
The women behind commented on how they had to make themselves presentable before coming out to meet Ree. After all, they didn’t want her to think they were a bunch of frumpy housewives. I laughed. Women. But then again, the thought did cross MY mind as well with regard to what I was wearing. Blue fleece pullover or plaid short-sleeved checkered shirt? I decided to go with the outdoor, rugged look and kept my pullover on. Not that I was trying to compete against Marlboro Man. Ok, maybe I was. Just a little.
The line continued to shuffle forward slowly and I continued to joke around with my neighbors. You had to do SOMETHING to pass the time. In a Walmart, no less. Poor Ariel - I do have to give props to her for enduring the entire evening with me. I think she saw just about everything she wanted (and then some) at Walmart that night. It wasn’t until she started get stalked by this creepy older gentleman did she come and join me in line. The ladies behind commented that he had been there the entire time, walking the aisles. CREEPY.
At one point, shortly after we turned the first corner, someone walked by and said that Marlboro Man was there and was signing her book as well. As soon as she said that, in perfect sync, every single pair of female eyes turned towards the front of the store and necks were craned searching for his manly goodness. I do believe I spied more than a few ladies starting to drool. Ha! All I could think was what NOT to say to Ree that would get me pummeled by her cowboy. Yeah, that would not be good, and downright embarrassing surrounded by all those women.
As we got closer and closer, we started seeing these cute, little post-it notes that someone ahead of us had left. One said, “life is short, this line is long.” Another said, “photography moment ahead” (referring to Marlboro Man). Those made us all chuckle as we waited for the next note to come into eyeshot.
I noticed a couple of women ahead of start pruning and brushing their hair as they waited to meet Marlboro Man. As if they had any chance…
Then again, one of my newfound friends had taken her boots off (because they made her feet hurt), but was putting them back on as we approached Marlboro Man. I told her he probably wouldn’t even notice she was shoeless. She replied, “but the boots make me taller!” I guess every little bit helps. I considered dropping to the ground and doing several dozen push-ups and puffing out my chest, but even on my best day, there was no way I was going to come close to matching up with MM. Working in an office all day in front of a computer doesn’t go very far in developing a manly musculature that working on a ranch does.
I eventually made my way up to Marlboro Man and handed him my book. I was at a loss for words. After all, what does one man (with a penchant for photography, blogging and cooking) say to one who is into none of those things? I ended up asking him if he was looking forward to going home and spending several days with his family. I thanked him for accompanying her and coming out to Little Rock to see us. Short, sweet, to the point. Pretty typical of any conversation between men that doesn’t involve sports, guns, women, or beer.
In no time, we finally turned the final corner and Ree was just a few feet away! I readied my camera and instructed Ariel on what kind of shots I wanted. Everything I wanted to say to her became all swirled up in my excitement. I knew I wanted to say something about taking pictures of homeschooling fudge or something. I started to feel like Koothrappali from the TV show “The Big Bang Theory” who becomes mute around beautiful women.
Eventually, it was my turn. I turned Ariel loose and handled my book to Ree. I smiled. She smiled back. I blurted out something about how I was one of her #3 category guys. She laughed. I ended up telling her I was a huge fan and that we were also a homeschooling family. She asked me how many kids I had and I told her I had 3 with one of the way in March. She told me congratulations and finished signing my book, all the while while MM looked on from the side. I’m sure he was there to make sure I wasn’t going to attempt to make any sort of advances. As she reached for the next book, I asked timidly if she would mind very much if I had a photo taken with her. “Not at all,” she replied. I walked slowly behind the table and kneeled down next to her, being careful not to appear to be some crazed, obsessed, stalker type. Ariel took a photo while MM snapped several next to her. There was an awkward pause as I continued posing hoping Ariel would take a few more. Nothing. The awkward pause dragged into even more ultimate awkwardness. Okay, time to go. I thanked Ree one last time and bid her good luck. It was only way later did I realize I didn’t even tell her my name! I mean, I know it was on the note and all, but still….btw, Ree, my name is Cliff!
It was truly a special moment, and I’ll think of it every time I crack open her cookbook. As a semi-blogger, I’m always impressed by those who manage to make it “big” in the blogging world. She definitely deserves all the success she has worked for. I hope it won’t be the last time I get to meet her! Thanks again Ree, for coming here. Your Arkansas fans sure appreciate it!
Well, our dreams of having a little girl have come true. Jen went to get her first ultrasound this morning and was shown to be carrying a little girl. Of course we have the name all picked out already - we’ve had the name picked out ever since we were expecting Braden. She will be named Alison, after my mom (Alice Sun). We’re quite excited!!
While we were eating lunch at Genghis Grill yesterday afternoon, this mom and her two pretty teenage daughters came in at sat at a table close to ours. Upon seeing the daughters, Connor said, “Look at those two cute gurls!” LOL
That’s my boy…
With training for Raid the Rock this year (coming up in 2 weeks!) and since I started doing Couch-to-5k a couple of weeks ago, I decided to start logging my workouts in a separate blog.
Cliff’s Fitness Blog
I just started Week 4 of Couch-to-5k and am loving it so far! The podcasts I’ve found (links on my fitness blog page) REALLY REALLY make a huge difference.
I’ve had my share of travel delays like everyone else, but trying to fly back to Little Rock, AR from Dallas-Fort Worth yesterday trumped them all, even my unplanned 9-hr layover in Minn-St. Paul many years ago.
The first leg of my journey went fine - Baton Rouge to DFW. After a slight delay in BTR, still made it to DFW in plenty of time to catch my connecting flight home. I had about an hour and half to kill so I wandered the B concourse leisurely taking in the people and sights. No free wi-fi made adinar a sad panda. Oh well, it wasn’t going to be a long wait. No biggie.
My flight was scheduled to leave at 5:05pm, with boarding estimated to start at 4:35pm. 5 o’clock rolls around with no plane in sight. “It will just be a few more minutes, ladies and gentlemen,” the gate agent announced over the intercom. Ahh, no problem. Just take it easy and relax. Another half hour passes and we finally have a plane. Just before everyone boards, the gate attendant tells us that there is cold bottled water available in the jetway if anyone wants one. Hmm….that was clue number 1 that things may not go well. As soon as I board the aircraft, I understand why. The A/C is barely working, plane is completely full, and we’re baking in a tin can in the hot Texas sun. Great.
Several more minutes pass and the temperature continues to rise inside the cabin. They finally close the aircraft door and begin to spin up the propellers. All of the sudden, the engine sputters and dies, taking the little A/C we were receiving with it. The intercom crackles to life, “I’m sorry folks,” the flight attendant says, “we seem to have a brake warning light on, it will just be a few minutes to have that checked out.” The few minutes drags into a quarter hour and then a half hour. We’re told that not only are they checking on the warning light, but the crew will have to be switched out as well as they were exceeding their maximum flight time. More delay. Most people are visibly sweating now. Most have taken the plastic safety pamphlet and are fanning themselves. There is a family in front of me with two young children. They are behaving fine but are starting to get a little restless. I don’t blame them. We’re starting to cook like a sardine can accidentally left outside on the pavement. The father asks one of the flight attendants for a cup of ice and some water.
A few minutes later, the pilot comes on the intercom and reports that we’ll be deplaning and another plane will be made available to us. It’s now 6:15pm and people are somewhat upset, but we still have no idea what we’re in for. We the huddled, hot, sweaty masses return to the comfort of the air conditioned terminal, thankful for that at least. We’re told to make our way 3 gates down where we’ll eventually board the replacement aircraft. It’s now getting close to 7pm and I wonder if I’ll make it back home any time soon. If I had rented a car when I first landed, I would almost be home by now.
7:10pm – we’re told that a plane is available but there are no gates currently free so we were told to sit tight until they determined where we were supposed to be. More minutes pass and we’re told to go back to the original gate we just entered from. More walking. Yay!
7:45pm – we’re finally back on board the second aircraft, baking again, but at least it’s not quite as hot as the first time around. Are you keeping track, boys and girls? That’s plane number two. Instead of “how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop”, it’s now, “how many planes will it take to get adinar home?” Keep counting. The engines spin up and we begin the routine taxi to the runway. However, before we get halfway there, the pilot speaks up, informing us that a passenger has discovered a crack in the airplane structure and we would be taxiing back to the terminal to have it checked out. The passenger, he informs us, is not comfortable flying in this plane and wants to get off. People around me in the back of the plane are getting very upset and we stare at each other in disbelief. Are they serious? Who was this passenger? I felt bad for whoever this person was, surely they would be lynched if their identity was revealed. It was only later on (earlier today) when I spoke with some passengers who were at the front of the plane did I learn the whole story. Apparently, one of the emergency exit doors was off its track and there was a visible crack/gap that the passenger noticed. Good thing. But something like that took a passenger to notice? Man, whoever that was probably saved our butts.
8:11pm – we’re now back in the terminal yet again, waiting on the third plane. People are now demanding refunds, asking to be put on a different flight/airline, wanting their luggage, talking of renting a car for the 5-hr drive to LR, but all are denied. They can’t get people’s luggage. They don’t refund tickets or issue vouchers unless the flight gets cancelled. Everyone is pretty ticked off and we settle in resigned to our fate.
It’s almost 9pm by now, working on a 4 hour delay, and they just announced they had another plane ready. And guess what? We had to trek down to yet another gate. Third time is a charm right? RIGHT? By this time, I’ve gotten to know some of my neighborly seatmates. There are the group of nurses across the aisle who were returning from a nursing convention in New Orleans. The girl sitting next to me is returning from Colorado after visiting her father. She’s not looking at all well, having been sunburned from head to toe. Her Cricket phone doesn’t work and I let her use my cellphone to call her mom. Her leg was also swelling up and I offer her some ibuprofen but she said she had already taken some. We keep looking forlornly at each other, shaking our heads, scarcely believing our bad luck.
We board our third aircrapft of the night, hoping that this one will get us to our destination. All seems well. The plane looks a little newer, or maybe it was just cleaner. At least with the sun going down, the interior doesn’t feel like a sauna any longer, and the A/C seems to be working better. A few resourceful people managed to get away long enough to grab some food, but the rest of us stuck by the gate like the cattle we felt like we were. I figure an hour flight home, I can still get some food once I get home, no biggie. We start the taxiing process yet again, and like a bad movie sequel, we make yet another U-turn before we get to the runway. Surely we are just getting diverted to a different runway, right? We all look at each other in shock and disbelief again, awaiting the announcement from the pilot. Nary a word is heard until we are back at the terminal. We think the pilot was too scared to say anything. “I’m sorry again, ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot honestly seems apologetic. We’ve heard this all before. “We’re sorry for any inconvenience we’ve caused you, but it looks like there is a problem with the engine in this aircraft. You will all be taken care of tonight. Please return to the terminal and gate agents are standing by to issue hotel and meal vouchers.” At this point, we’re beyond pissed off. It’s laughable. We’ve passed the point where we can be upset and all we can do is just accept our situation and how everything is beyond our control. I mean, what are the chances of having 3 out of 3 planes with mechanical problems? That sure isn’t a comforting or reassuring feeling on the condition of AA’s airplane fleet. Not a very good track record in the very least.
Lines form up and the agents work furiously to provide everyone with hotel accommodations and food vouchers. I’m not in a real big hurry so I let the family with the young children ahead of me. I figure the sooner they can get to the hotel the better. Most people are getting booked on the first flight out in the morning – 6:45am. When it’s finally my turn, I ask if I can take a later flight as I had no desire to be up before the crack of dawn. I decide on the 8:50am flight, which would give me a little more sleep than my fellow passengers, but would still get me back to Little Rock in time for work. I’m told that the food vouchers can be used at the airport or the hotel. I’m told to exit the terminal at gate B20 and to go to the lower level where a hotel shuttle will pick us up and take us to the Embassy Suites North in Grapevine, TX. The airport is nearly deserted by now, we being the only passengers left. As I make my way to the shuttle pickup, I notice that all the airport concessions are closed. The words of the gate attendant echo in my head, “You can use the food vouchers in the airport..” Yeah, right, fat chance of that with everything closed. But the hotel restaurant is supposed to be open until midnight so I’m counting on that. I spy an older couple hunkered down in one of the open lounge areas, probably there to stay for the night. I’m thankful that I will at least have a bed for the night.
I exit the airport into the warm, humid, stagnant Texas air. There’s already a large crowd of my fellow passengers congregating, and the hotel shuttle is there, fully loaded. And when I say hotel shuttle, it was a passenger van capable of seating maybe 6 people without luggage. I make my way to the driver and ask when we can expect the next shuttle. He apologizes and tells me that he’s the only driver left for the night and it would be approximately a 30 min wait until he can come back for us. It’s now past 10pm and I do the math. With 50-60 passengers all going to the same hotel, at best he would have to make 5 trips, if not more. That meant it could take another THREE HOURS to get everyone to the hotel. That was simply not acceptable. I get the number of the hotel and call them. The desk clerk answers and I tell him the situation. He apologizes as well, tells me he’s aware of our situation, but there’s nothing he can do. He already sent all the other drivers home for the night, having no warning of our arrival. Someone in the crowd wonders aloud about a taxi which I think is a great idea. I leave to go track down the taxi stop (which is on the upper level) and find out how many they can take, how much the fare is, etc. I return to my fellow passengers with the information, and I’m rewarded with three ladies who agree to share a cab with me. It would cost us each about $7, but the cab would be there in 5 minutes. I ask if anyone else is interested but no one budges. We make our way to the upper deck and within minutes, we’re in an air conditioned minivan on our way to the hotel. Finally something that goes according to plan.
We arrive at the hotel, split the fare, and check-in. It’s now almost 11pm and we find out that the hotel restaurant is only going to be open another half hour. Looks like the airline got that information wrong as well. I’m glad we got there when we did, but that meant there were going to be a lot of hungry people that night. I look at the meal voucher and the lousy airline allotted each of us a measly $10 for dinner and $5 for breakfast. At least my company would pick up the difference. Others were not so fortunate. I found out that one of my fellow travelers was a 16yo kid with no credit card. He had to combine his dinner and breakfast vouchers just to be able to get a burger. At least the hotel breakfast was free and included in our hotel voucher. Without a credit card, they had to shut off any services that might accrue incidental charges (i.e. TV and phone). I grabbed a bite to eat, and asked if the restaurant staff could stay late even longer. I was told that they had already made an exception for us and were already open well past their regular operating hours and 11:30pm was the closing time. I see the two families with the young kids already eating. That’s good. I feel better for them but I felt bad for those who would not get to eat dinner. By the time I left the restaurant at 11:45pm, there were still people arriving from the airport.
I checked into my suite, a nice one at that, but I had little energy to enjoy it as I went immediately to sleep, hoping for a better day in the morning. The next day, after a quick breakfast and shuttle ride to the airport, I arrive in plenty of time for my flight. I didn’t want to risk oversleeping and missing my flight. I take a look at the departure board and noticed that the 6:45am flight that most of my companions were on, was delayed 45 minutes. I later found out that that was probably weather related due to some bad storms that were hitting Little Rock at the time. Still, I bet those people were pissed at yet another delay. Surely that couldn’t happen to me, right? RIGHT? I figure by splitting all of us up into several different flights, that increased the odds that SOME of us would get back to Little Rock. I hoped to be in the group with the favorable odds. Hah.
I settle in at the gate, which is mostly deserted at this point. Slowly, travelers start trickling in, and I recognize a few from my flight the day before. Other travelers, like myself, who didn’t have to be in Little Rock first thing, I thought to myself. With a planned 8:50am departure time, we were supposed to start boarding around 8:30am. Guess what? 8:30am rolls around and passes. 9:00am rolls around and passes. We’re then told that maintenance has held up the airplane during their inspection and they had no idea when the plane would be ready. I’m in shock again. I look at my companions from the day and we’re all shaking our heads. We don’t believe it. FOUR planes. FOUR mechanical problems. We wondered if we should be flying at all. Whether this was some message from Higher Up that we should not fly. We explained our situation to some of the new travelers in the morning and they can scarcely believe it.
Eventually, we’re told that the airplane’s status was questionable and the estimated time was indeterminate. They told us there was another flight at 10:30am that we can get on the standby list for, and having been carryovers from the day before, we would have priority. I’m still debating what to do while many people get up to get rebooked on the other flight. Then one of my companions told me that I better go have them check my boarding pass because we apparently weren’t ever booked on the initial flight that morning. Sure enough, they didn’t even get that right. As it gets closer to 10am, it’s looking less and less likely that plane #4 was going to be fixed so I hustled my way down to the next gate. I see my fellow companions waiting and we verbally discuss whether plane #5 would get us home. Other new flyers are regaled with our spectacular tale, and wondered if we were jinxing them.
Plane #5 eventually arrives, behind schedule (what a surprise), but there is one HUGE different from the other four. Plane #5 is a jet whereas all the other ones were of the prop variety. That has it going in our favor I think. As I had done 5 times already in the past 24 hrs, I board the plane, go through the safety briefing, and sit anxiously awaiting the taxiing to the runway. The plane leaves the gate, starts taxiing towards the runway, makes a right turn….
Surely we’re not turning around AGAIN my brain screams silently. False alarm. It was just a right turn, not a U-turn. Whew. I relax. We come to the point where all the other airplanes made the U-turn, and go past. I hear the engines revving, that’s a good sign, right? The pilot comes on the intercom and tells the flight attendants to be seated and that we’re 2nd in line for takeoff. I cross my fingers, almost, almost. As the jet screams down the runway and lifts up into the air, my heart breathes a hallelujah as I’m sure my other fellow companions from the day before were doing. At 12 noon, central standard time, we pull into Little Rock, almost 18 hours later than originally scheduled. It’s not lost on me that I could have driven from Little Rock to Dallas and back TWICE in that same amount of time.
While I’ve had nothing but good luck with Southwest, I had decided to forgo my usual trusty airline and went with Continental/AA because they flew directly to Baton Rouge. With Southwest, I would have flown into New Orleans and rented a car for a the hour drive to Baton Rouge, which I normally would have done. Never again. I mean, SRSLY. What are the odds that you get 5 planes in a ROW with mechanical problems? What does that say about the rest of the fleet or about the company in general? Not very reassuring in my book.
Boy still has some problems pronouncing his “V”’s. So you get bideo, tee-bee, and moo-bies. Funniest thing? Instead of Spongebob, he says, “Spun-bodge”.
From one of Jen’s emails today:
Connor just came into the office with a picture that was taken of you before we were married. He said, “Is that my Dad? Is that my Dad?”. I said yes, it’s Daddy. He said, “Oh, I love my Dad. He’s awesome.” Then, he hugged the picture. 
Then, he saw a picture of you and Scott, where you have long hair. He asked if that was me, and I said, “No. It’s Daddy.” He said, “He was born like a mama.” *grin* Too funny!
As of today (4/6/09), I’ve logged 350 miles running & cycling (27 of which are running) this year! And that’s through part the winter months. Hopefully I’ll start logging even more miles as the weather gets nicer.
Also starting up the one hundred pushups regime again - I made it to week 3 before I stopped. Giving it another shot. Just finished week 2 and will start week 3 this week.
P.S. I will leave this entry at the top of my blog as a reminder of this cause! So look for any new entries I write following this one.
Blogs come and go, but one of the most entertaining and heartfelt bloggers that I’ve discovered this past year is FatCyclist.com. One reason that I find him so captivating is that he writes about cycling, something that I can relate to. Through his entries, I can live vicariously as he writes up his Leadville 100 experiences, or his annual trips out to Moab National Park. I can relate to him when he writes about the idiot drivers that scream at cyclists for no good reason. His entries are interesting, sometimes humorous, and sometimes even inspiring.
However, he has also touched my heart in his fight against cancer. His wife, Susan, was diagnosed with breast cancer approximately 5 years ago, and although she battled it into remission, it has come back within the last year. Fatty (as he refers to himself) has been working with and being supported by the Lance Armstrong Foundation in battling this terrible disease.
For 2009, he has created Team Fat Cyclist: Fighting for Susan for the LIVESTRONG Challenge. His goal is to get more people involved in raising money for the LIVESTRONG Challenge than ever before, and to shatter the previous total amount collected by a single team.
I’ve joined Team Fat Cyclist - Austin and will be participating in the LIVESTRONG Challenge to benefit the Lance Armstrong Foundation. If I can raise a minimum of $250, I will consider riding in the LIVESTRONG Challenge in Austin on October 23, 2009. I hope to be able to raise even more than that. Considering that Braden sold over $1500 worth of popcorn for his cub scout fundraiser in a little over two weeks, I should be able to beat that amount over 10 months, right?
Although there is no cure, progress has been made and it is vital that we continue to work, to fight, toward beating this disease. It is time that we make a commitment to close the gap between what we know and what we do.
My goal is not just to participate in the LIVESTRONG Challenge, but to raise $2,000 to help further the Lance Armstrong Foundation’s mission of inspiring and empowering people affected by cancer. To reach this goal, I need your help.
If you have been affected by cancer, or you care about this cause, please consider donating toward my fundraising goal. You can donate online at http://austin09.livestrong.org/siradinar. You may also make a contribution via check. Please visit my site and print a copy of the Offline Donation Form (a link to the form is located directly under the thermometer on my page) and mail your check and donation form to the address on the form.
Thank you in advance for your support. Together, we can make a difference in the fight against cancer.
What do I get out of it? I get the satisfaction of participating in a worthy cause that we all should be concerned about. Plus FatCyclist will be holding frequent raffles for Team Fatty members, and the more an individual has raised, the better the chance that individual has at winning cool bike schwag.
SRSLY, folks - donate $5, $10, or even $50. If you can’t donate today, this will be available nearly ALL YEAR, so come back & donate when you can. Also if you’ve already donated, please don’t hesitate to come back and donate more. I will be trying to donate throughout the year as well, I give you that promise. Skip that next trip to McDonalds and pledge that money towards the fight against cancer. Tell your friends and your family, and together, we can make a difference.
Again, Follow This Link to visit my personal web page and help me in my efforts to support Lance Armstrong Foundation.
If you decide that you want to do more than just donate, and become a Team FatCyclist member with the chance of winning cool bike schwag yourself, you can read how to do so here.