Flying and thunderstorms don't mix

Ahhh the Monday morning alarm clock. Couldn't stop myself from whimpering a bit, but managed to only snooze for 10 minutes before getting up. Usually, Mondays aren't QUITE this bad, but this past weekend was jam-packed with everything but sleep.

Last week I was in Kansas City for work, and stayed to run the Hospital Hill half marathon with a co-worker and some other friends. We had the usual early-morning routine of getting up before the sun and driving down to beat the traffic. So far so good. But I knew it was going to be a tough day when I saw the time/temp sign at the bank: 81 degrees at 6am. And only going to get warmer.

The five of us managed to finish the 13-mile slogfest without collapsing, puking, or cramping, so we all considered it a smashing success (race report is coming later). We congratulated each other for finishing, then parted ways.

After a quick shower I was delivered to the airport, with a few hours to kill. No problem. KCI has free wi-fi, so I surfed and caught up on email. Sadly, the people-watching was depressing, so that wasn't really an option. My plane left as scheduled, and I was looking forward to grabbing my 15-minute flight from Chicago and getting home by 8pm. Still early enough to relax, have a beer, and catch a decent night's sleep.

Chicago's flight was delayed because our cockpit crew was late from somewhere in California. Only a half-hour, nothing to be worried about. 30 minutes becomes 45, we finally board the plane, and everyone is settling in, happy to be heading home. Except...a horrendously bad, dangerous, and large thunderstorm is sitting right over Indianapolis. Lovely. We are going to sit in Chicago and wait it out. Thankfully we were still at the gate and free to get off the plane, so it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.

Three and a half hours later, we are all herded back onto the plane. The door closes, then reopens. It was just a tease. We sit another ten minutes or so, then they close the door for real. Apparently this storm is seriously pounding the entire area, and many flights are ending in Ft. Wayne or Louisville, neither of which is desirable. Our 7pm flight departs at 10:45 or so (Central time; Indy is on Eastern time), and we literally fly 18 minutes before descending into Indianapolis. It's clear they weren't joking about the weather, as we are surrounded by lots and lots of very bright lightning and heavy rain. There is a collective sigh of relief when we land.

Only now...the ramp is closed. The lightning is so intense that it's not safe for the workers to be out there. At least we're sitting in a grounded container, so we're safe. We sit for a while, watch the pretty weather, and lust for our respective beds. Everyone is totally fried and trying not to be cranky (I failed at the cranky part). At last we pull up to the jetway, the door opens to much applause, and we are released from the torture. Kudos to Southwest for handling a really lousy situation with humor and grace. They were incredibly accommodating and did everything they could to make it less painful.

So I finally arrive at home around 12:45 or so, knowing that I have to be up butt-early Sunday to go work at a bike criterium (a series of races, good definition here) that lasts all day. I manage to carve out an extra 1.5 hours to sleep, so don't have to show up until 9am. Hallelujah! Sleep is a wonderful thing, especially with a cat nearby. Two of us work the race all day (which is actually a heck of a lot of fun), help tear down, and are done by 7-ish. The group of us went for a celebratory meal before heading home to bed.

Today I'm drinking strong coffee and feeling a bit groggy from the weekend. But it was fun! Except for the flying/thunderstorm part.