I guess you could call it a vacation....

Vacation is over rated. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of a stress-free get away, but I have yet to ever actually experience it. Just last Wednesday I had to initiate Operation Pre-Vacation-Get-The-Kids-To-Grandmas which involved a prearranged drop off at a random shell gas station right smack in the middle of Nowhere, Texas. My parents were going to pick up the kids, give me a hug, and wish me luck on the “crazy-ass race” (dad’s words, not mine). Of course, I still had to work all morning, and then pick up the kids (which included: their three suitcases, the dog, and the guinea pig), find the shell gas station, and hustle back to San Antonio so I could, yep you guessed it, work some more. They all came downstairs carrying enough luggage to clothe a third world nation, and stared at me blankly when I asked (while I wiped the sweat off my brow), “So, you remembered to pack the snow suits right?” I instructed all of them to exhale, and on the count of three to throw their little bodies into their car seats. They fit. Barely. I left out a giant huff of air and laid the ground rules, “First person to poke Anna has to sit with the dog on their lap.”…. and I have the kind of dog that is old, smelly, and farts continuously on road trips. Note to self: I should travel with that dog more often.

(The Honda Civic.... or as I like to call it, Birth Control)

I returned home safely, speeding ticket free, and flew back to work… where I stayed until 7:00 PM. In my mind, it was all ok. In a few short hours, I was about to have an Army Wife vacation to Seattle…. So what that I had to wake up at 3:00 AM. That just means more time in Seattle, right?

Wrong. All THAT means is that finding a Starbucks becomes a hell of a lot higher priority than remembering where you parked your car in long term parking. Which by the way, nobody managed to notate. Yes, we all chimed, “Remember section Something-or-other.”…. but neither of us managed to write it down, text it, or even care. Why would we? We were running late.

Which leads us to Vacation Over-rated point #1: Getting to the airport on time has got to be more stressful than giving birth (and I am talking about the kind of delivery where your husband is skyped in from Afghanistan).

Did we make the plane? YES (Fist pump!). Were we the last ones on the plane? YES! We managed to run up to the gate as they were finishing boarding (with Starbucks in tow), and totally did the happy-spaz dance due to our impeccable timing. ‘No wait,’ we told ourselves. “And with coffee,” we announced to each other proudly…. And it wasn’t until we were on our connecting flight that we happened to remember that my car was parked SOMEWHERE in long term parking.

And that takes us to Vacation is Over-rated Point #2: Coffee, although delicious and hands-down one of the best discoveries of the universe, only leads to one outcome when consumed in excessive quantities before a long flight.

Approximately fifteen minutes after the fasten seatbelt sign was turned off, my pigeon bladder threatened to explode. I closed my laptop, monkeyed my way over Monica AND ‘the person who really should have paid for two seats’ (karma loves to antagonize us skinny bitches) , and ran to first class to wait in the mile long line for the lavatory.

Thankfully, I am a pretty social person, and within minutes I struck up a conversation with a family (who was also waiting for the bathroom). We talked about everything—the weather, kids, his baldness, my hot pink toe nail polish—when it finally dawned on us that whomever was in the bathroom was taking a LONG time. I mean, minutes had gone by, and we were both still standing there. The man looked at me, and said in a very sincere voice, “Boy, that lady has sure been in there a while. Maybe you should check on her.” He paused for a second, and glanced at his now equally concerned wife and said, “Do you think she is ok?”

I smiled an impish grin, chuckled quietly and patted him on the back, “I think we can safely say that whomever is in that bathroom is DEFINITELY not ok.”

Four bathroom trips later, and about a dozen new facebook friends, the plane finally landed, and I am proud to say the vacation (to run an endurance race) OFFICIALLY started. Was it relaxing? Ummm… not at all. Waking up at 0400 to run with 30,000 people is probably performed only by the criminally insane (and stressed out Army Wives). Was it worth it? Hell yeah! The course was beautiful, the temperature perfect (especially after training on the surface of the sun back in San Antonio), and the experience life changing.

For those that run, I know you totally understand. For those of you who don’t, maybe you should try. Running has a way of making you push past your comfort zone—whatever that may be—and forces you to face your insecurities. You may be dirty and smell worse than a 7-11 employee that has been eating onions for the past 6 meals, but life suddenly becomes crystal clear. Clarity is delivered somewhere along mile 12 when you suddenly realize…. Oh my God, I AM going to make it.

So, what soul-awakening realization did I receive from this journey? Simply, that success isn't always how fast you go, but rather the distance you traveled from where you started-- and I have covered a lot of ground the past three days. I ran a half marathon, pushed myself physically, ate like a glutton, and learned that WE are all guilty of creating out own limitations…. So stop setting them. Want to survive a marathon? Want to survive the marathon of life? Travel freely. Lean on friends. Accept that life can be painful, but the journey is worth the sting. And push past your limits.

(But just try to remember where you parked your car in the process….)

(And people aren't supposed to look like this after vacation...)