Barefoot Bandit

Holy crap I made it home.
4:16 hit me like a ton of bricks this morning, but I was eager to get things rolling at the gym.  It felt like I'd been gone for 2 weeks instead of 4 days, and my to-do list gives me anxiety just looking at it.  Back to the grind.

My return was not without drama though...(as if there is any other way).  My flight was scheduled for 4pm Sunday afternoon, and I knew I'd be cutting it close with only a 40 minute layover in Atlanta to catch my connecting flight.  However, when the first flight was delayed 20+ minutes I concluded that Delta officially hated me and would make this a long day.  There was no way I'd make it.  I sucked it up, boarded, and figured I'd handle it once we landed.
Its a short flight from Panama City to Atlanta, but when a human talk-box with the apparent lung capacity of a Navy Seal is sitting behind you, a 50 minute flight quickly turns into a 4 hour torture method.  I could literally write his life story, and its not because I was choosing to listen.  "Indoor voice" meant nothing to him....which was unfortunate for rows 10-16.  About 20 minutes into the flight as my ears were bleeding profusely, I was convinced Delta indeed planned this and I was being punished for everything horrible I did from 1994-1998.  Evidently, the list was long...
Upon arrival into Atlanta they announced the local time was 6:54pm.  My connecting flight was supposed to leave at 6:45, but I loaded my crap and headed straight for the monitor to see the next available flight.  I nearly wet my pants.  My flight was changed to 7pm.  This meant I still had 6 minutes to make the gate.  I was at B29 and needed to get to B04.  Game time.  I needed some theme music.
I started running,...well, until I discovered my hooker heels disguised as flip-flops were inhibiting my sprinting abilities.  So I ripped them off in true hooker fashion and sprinted like a criminal through the airport.  Somewhere around gate B15 I was cursing myself for packing so much, and was fairly certain I'd already contracted something from the floor.  My shoulder was about to separate and I was panting like an emphysema patient, but only a few more gates to go.  I was flying by kids, parents, and those airport vehicles that are evidently slower than me so therefore worthless....but I was determined to make this flight.  By gate B07 I would have stiff-armed a 9 year old if I had to. 
I was sweating.
I skidded to a stop, barefoot, at the gate and was literally the last person to get on the plane.  I made it.  No thanks to Delta, I made it.
I found my seat and still sort of wanted to top off the evening with a victory dance, but had very little room to bust out any worthy moves.  Not to mention I nearly pulled something the night before doing the Wobble at the reception...
By that time I just wanted to get home.  I pulled out my ipod because heaven forbid I hear anymore talking after flight #1,....aaaanndd the battery dies. 
I needed to be removed from public as soon as possible.

Needless to say, I made it home....a little less sane, but home in one piece.  Today was a long day to say the least, but I was glad to see clients and get in the groove.  I struggled through my workout because I was tired, BUT was thrilled to pick up a weight.  All I could do on the trip was run, and after 17 miles in 3 days my knees were starting to revolt and so was my mind.  I haven't ran 3 days in a row in probably 6 months...no kidding.  I wanted to kiss the dumbbells.  Gross, but whatever,.....couldn't be any worse than what I contracted on my feet in the Atlanta airport.
I got through all of it,...shoulders, biceps, core, and cardio.  Done and done.

Well, I certainly have more to share but my fingerprints have rubbed off and I need to hit the bed.  More to come tomorrow.  And for those of you waiting on email responses, I am on it!  I hope to be all caught up by tomorrow night!

Have a great night folks!
A few more wedding pics...