OCTOBER 2007
A pressing need to get away? Check. A friend in Richmond, Virginia, who’d have me for a few days? Check. A supportive husband, a cheap flight out of Buffalo, and an unexpected adventure? Check, check, and . . . whaaat?
Autumn-blue skies and bright sunshine made the drive from my home, north of Toronto, to the airport in Buffalo, NY, pleasant, and security clearance went without a hitch. While waiting to board my flight to Detroit, where I’d get a connecting flight to Richmond, I settled in to read and relax, but the luxury lasted less than ten minutes. A flight delay was announced, and my shoulders tightened with each subsequent announcement. When we boarded more than an hour late, I knew catching the connecting flight would be a challenge.
Sure enough, upon landing, there were only ten minutes to spare, and Gate C14, where I needed to be, could have been anywhere.
“Go to Gate 40,” said a helpful employee, pointing into the distance. “When you get there, turn right, and Gate C14 is just down that hall.”
Good directions? For sure. Achievable in the allotted time? Doubtful. I was at Gate 12, and Gate 40 may as well have been in the next state. I had no choice but to run my first marathon.
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