Wow. You made it.

Just sprinted like a gorilla to make my connecting flight to Flagstaff. I’m catching my breath in row 14, Seat A as I type this. Imagine: Two bags, running on the moving walkways, “Pardon me, thank you, excuse me…” I arrived to an empty gate and an attendant who asked, “Are you Sally McRae? We were waiting for you- wow, you made it.” Sweat running down my temple, a heave of relief, “ Thanks.”

American Airlines advertised the flight with a 28 minute layover and then put the two gates a half mile away from eachother. The airport map said it was a 12 minute walk.

Earlier, when our plane rolled from the gate at SNA airport, the pilot announced, “Sorry guys, noise ordinance requires me to wait until 7am to takeoff.” Which subtracted 15 minutes from my time to get to my connecting flight in Phoenix.

Crap.

Staring out the window in row 8, I devised a plan, right before landing I would connect with a flight attendant and ask(so others could hear), “Sir, what’s the likelihood I’ll make my flight to Flagstaff?” He told me, “Um that’s really close I don’t understand why that was an option when you bought the ticket. You don’t need to kill yourself trying- the gate is far.”

Challenge accepted.

We touched down in PHX at 8:12, and my next flight was leaving at 8:38. We paused on the runway, 8:14…8:17….how was I going to do this? I started running calculations in my mind and analyzing the 20 people seated ahead of me.

Try, just try.

Moments later, the plane locked into a gate and when we were allowed to stand, several people let me step in front, “Go, go- I had to do that last week!”

Thank you, thank you…thank you.

Once my rear foot left the plane, I locked into race mode- something I haven’t experienced all year because of my knee injury- I smiled to myself, “Of course, the day after my surgeon clears me to run, i run through an airport ON TILE!”

I pulled and maneuvered my yellow suitcase with one hand while keeping my shoulder bag steady at my side as I narrowly brushed past mobs of people. Friday morning in an international airport does NOT offer wide open spaces for running. The gate felt far away, and twice I slowed to catch my breath- It was like running with kettlebells through a mosh pit.

Hopping off the final moving walkway, I made a hard left and raced to GATE B2. The vision of empty chairs and two attendants at the gate made my heart drop, but one asked, “Are you Sally McRae?”

“Yes! I’m Sally McRae!”

“We were waiting for you- Wow, you made it.”

Yes, Yes I did.

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Have a beautiful weekend friends. Talk to strangers, find solutions in the chaos, and keep believing that TRYING(again and again) is always the better option than just settling for what you are perceiving as bad luck.

Rootin for you always! Strength and love,

sally