Tuesday, May 17, 2016

The Pre-Ragnar Agony...

If you haven't already read the intro, you might want to catch up, here...we'll wait.

Welcome back...now let's get going...

In the months leading up to Ragnar, there were circumstances and happenings and happenstances and unluckiness a plenty...

First, TBC broke his collarbone. He was out of commission for a full 8 weeks. Luckily, he was back in action by February, so plenty of time to recover for the race.

The Frankenfoot
Then Mr. Man finally got his much needed foot surgery scheduled...Huzzah! Except...they scheduled it for 6 weeks before Ragnar....whomp, whomp. Which made his ability to run the race...questionable...at best.

Then TBC got a nasty, awful terribly, very bad case of strep throat...which kept him out of school for a full week. As a responsible parent, it seemed pretty irresponsible to pull him from *more* school, to run a race...

So we posted that we had 2 spots available on our team, to see if anyone would bite...

...a week passed. No one did. (or at least we *thought* no one did...turns out they *did*...but Facebook, in it's inimitable wisdom, had moved the messages to the mythical and mysterious "Filtered Message Requests" folder. Never to be seen nor heard from again...or at least not until much too late.)

So we decided to cross our fingers, say a prayer and hope for the best. Original team stayed assembled, truant teenager and hobbled husband included.

The next big kerfuffle was an eleventh hour call from the van rental company...the PIC had reserved 2 15 passenger behemoths for us, months in advance...and now, suddenly, the company that he had rented them through had opted to shutter the doors on that location. So he had to scramble to find an alternative.

But, he's a hero, so he succeeded. And our epic journey seemed bound for greatness...I mean, really? What else could go wrong? Right?



As I may or may not have mentioned in the past, I have really, really, REALLY shitty travel karma.

I set out for the airport at 3:20am on Thursday. My flight was set to leave at 6:54am.

I arrived at the airport to find that the security line looked like something out of pre-fast pass Disney World.  The line snaked around the corner, down the hall and straight on through to the far side of the moon.

I nervously started texting my husband and asking the TSA folks for guidance and maybe a little help...nope. They said "It's gonna be *close*."

I got to the gate 10 minutes before the flight was set to depart, and found the plane sitting there, presumably with my luggage safely stowed beneath it.

But the doors were shut.

I asked the nearest Spirit Air employee to help me...their answer was, quite simply, that I was not getting on that plane. 

The "fine" people of Spirit Air were gracious enough to be of absolutely no help whatsoever in helping me find an alternative flight arrangement.

They would rebook me...but not until the next day. Which wouldn't work, since we would be starting our run at 6AM.

They said they could put me on stand-by for the flight that Mr. Man and TBC were flying out on...but it wasn't a guarantee.

I asked if they could help me find a flight on another airline. Nope.

I was on the verge of tears and may have whimpered. I don't think they noticed...

Thankfully, Southwest was happy to have my business.

Oh goody. *Another* security line.
Less thankfully the terminals didn't connect with one another. So I got to go through a second security line. And pat down. But I made it. With an hour plus to spare...

Happily, I had a fully charged iPad and a rental of Deadpool to watch...so everything was coming up roses...FINALLY.

The flight was FULL. And of course, since I had only *just* booked it, I was in one of the later boarding groups. Which meant I was absolutely *guaranteed* a seat in the middle. Of two strangers. My *favorite* place to be.

I entered the plane and started eyeing my potential neighbors...looking for a pair that didn't appear to be too objectionable...but trying to hold off on making eye contact until I got close enough to attempt to give them the "sniff test". Don't judge, BO is a *thing*.

I found some likely contestants and decided to engage..."Hey, I don't snore, I don't talk, I won't take up much room and I promise not to bite, kick, thrash nor throw-up...mind if I sit between you?"

With an offer like that, how could they refuse?

The flight went off without any hitches, and I landed safely in Boston, without incident. I was met, at my gate, by the PIC...and then we scurried off to meet up with the rest of the early flight crew - the Flash, The Mighty B and Liz - performed a daring rescue of my luggage, which contained the all important Glitter Skirts, and then we called our Uber!
The Flash, The Mighty B, Liz, ME and the PIC
The rest...will come after some rest! 

1 comment:

runner_girl said...

Dude. I can't wait to read the rest!!!!