The Airport Workout

My business trip went really well. The only downside, as I lamented to a co-worker on the last day, was that I wish I could have exercised more during the trip. And then the words “be careful what you wish for,” became all too true for me. My first flight was delayed by about 45 minutes, which gave me less than 20 minutes to try to make my connecting flight, which happened to be at the completely opposite side of the large airport. I was grateful to a co-worker, a former military soldier, who said in a loud voice when we landed, “Can everyone please step aside? This young lady’s flight leaves in 15 minutes.” I gave him a look of sincere gratitude, when everyone moved aside so I could make my way to the front. I sprinted through the airport, lugging my bag with my work laptop and my overstuffed purse. It just so happens that I wore my dress shoes (dumb idea) and a new pair of pants without a belt. So I was simultaneously running, trying to hold up my pants with one hand, and praying to God that I didn’t trip or drop my laptop. I weaved through a sea of people, ran up two flights of stairs, took a bus, and then finally caught the tram. I was down to 5 minutes before the plane left, and I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would make it. And then the tram broke down. A couple of maintenance personnel ran over to us, as the seconds quickly ticked down to take-off time. They finally were able to manually open the doors, and I ran to the gate. I arrived at the gate, sweaty, with my heart pounding. Through panting, I asked if my flight was still there. It just left, she told me. My workout then changed from running through the airport to strolling around the airport, as I had 10 (yes, ten!) hours to kill before the next flight. Let’s just say that I’m no longer going to complain about not being able to work out on a trip.