Late For the Gate

If you plan to travel within the United States, travel ON the day of the holiday. You'll find short or no lines at security, an entire row for yourself on planes and no one to fight with to get a seat at airport restaurants.

I get off work at around midnight. My plan was to head home, finished packing and get in bed for a couple of hours shut-eye before an early drive to Portland to catch my flight. I set my alarm for 5:30am but didn't notice it going off until 6:30am. I looked at the numbers on the clock and tried to blink past the fog in my brain. I concentrated on the 6 and it all clicked in slow motion - I was going to miss my plane and therefore be late for the Thanksgiving dinner my mother had been slaving over all day.

Unfortunately, in this emergency situation, I had to skip my shower (luckily no one had to sit to close to me today) throw on some clothes, get a cup of coffee (instant), zip my suitcase and head for the interstate. I drove over the speed limit the entire way there....mostly holding my breath and praying I wouldn't get hit by a speeding ticket. The ticket didn't worry me as much as the slow down from being pulled over.

My flight was scheduled to take off at 8:50am and at 8:15 I was still 5 miles away from the airport. I chose long-term parking so I was closer to the terminal and paced while waiting for the shuttle. 8:27am -inside the shuttle.

As soon as the bus stopped I jumped up, grabbed my suitcase and started running. I undressed while dashing to the security checkpoint because let's face it, you cannot wear ANYTHING except shirt and jeans through the scanners these days. No one was in front of me so security went smoothly.

I check for the gate, D8 and started sprinting. It was 8:41 at this point. After a good 50 yards, I saw the gate down the corridor but a funny thing happened...age rushed over me. My lungs were ripping apart from sprinting and my thighs burned. A steady run turned into a helpless, embarrassing shuffle but I kept going. Even though I could no longer pick my legs up off the floor, I somehow moved them back and forth at a decent pace. My asthma kicked in at this point and I began wheezing but could push out enough breath to semi-shout to the flight attendant standing by the gate. "Deeeeeeee8!! Can I.....still....get...............on!? She looked up and was clearly afraid of my strange shuffling and waved me on. I was the last one on the flight and spent the next 20 minutes trying to breathe my way out of a heart attack. I am so out of shape.

That is an example of how to be a disastrous traveler. Set more than one alarm if you have an early flight.