So, Mr. Lincoln decided several months ago that he had not been pushing himself lately (guess he forgot that hellish day last December when he ran 60 miles) so he would train for and run in the Salt Lake City Marathon. I was pretty excited as I really love Salt Lake City, and invited myself along for the ride. We began to plan...in our heads...for the trip, delaying making the necessary arrangements such as flight, rental car, and lodging. Finally, we did get online looking for our preferred hotel, the one in which we stayed the last time he ran this marathon. We thought it was the Radisson, which, alas was filled. Due to our delayed planning, we scouted around and found a place to stay. Shortly after making the arrangements, we both forgot where we had made reservations. We were a tad puzzled about how to remedy the situation, but we figured it would work out some way; which it did. We are usually much more efficient.
Periodically, MP would ask if we had made our flight reservations, which we had not. Finally, she could not take it any more, came over, and forced me to buy plane tickets. We greatly appreciated her "gentle" encouragement. Also, about a week before our trip, we decided to rent a car. We got a Nissan Versa, and despite multiple efforts to have us "upgrade," we were quite happy with it.
Thursday, April 18 my alarm went off at 3:30 am letting me know it was time to get up and get ready to go to the airport. Our plan was to leave the house by 4:30 in order to catch a 6:00 flight. MP was gracious enough to pick us up and take us to the airport. Mr. Lincoln had encouraged me that we could make it with only one suitcase, and since, after all, I had invited myself on the trip, I complied. All I really needed were a couple pair of pants and several tops, perhaps a jacket. Mr. Lincoln assured me that the weather was to be sunny and cool, no chance for rain, so I did not pack my raincoat; too bad. I also forgot one pair of those pants.
Getting through security was pretty much a breeze, and as we smugly strolled through the airport thinking to ourselves what a cinch travel is, I got a text message. How weird is that at this time of the morning? It was Southwest Airlines letting me know that our flight had been cancelled due to weather. We were supposed to fly to Chicago and then on to Salt Lake. We continued to our gate, only to see a line about 20 people deep. Mr. Lincoln went to a relatively empty gate, and our flight was changed. Now we were to fly out of Nashville at 9:30 (six hours after I had gotten up) and go to Baltimore then to Salt Lake. The ticket agent assured us that we would not have to change planes. Really, does that matter at this point? Even I, in all my geographically challenged idiocy, know that Baltimore is not on the way to Salt Lake City from.....well, anywhere. I was at least grateful that I had not already taken the Dramamine which is essential in my having a successful trip on any moving conveyance.
Of course, the IPad would not connect to the internet at the airport, so Mr. Lincoln read Life of Pi while I played Bejeweled Blitz. Finally, our flight is called and we board the plane, fly to Baltimore, wait not very long for others to board who are also going to Salt Lake. As we get to 1,000 feet and "all approved electronics can now be turned on," we were informed that the WiFi on the plane was down. Okay, no big deal. By now, the Dramamine has taken effect and I am somewhat unconscious. A few more feet in the air, and the pilot comes on to inform us that our flight is being directed south of Little Rock in order to avoid the bad weather. Even I know that Little Rock is not on the way to Salt Lake from Baltimore. Also, a minor detail...our 4 1/2 hour flight (a hellish thought) will now be 5 1/2 hours. What? 5 1/2 hours in a plane...needless to say, I doubt I would be a successful traveler to, say, Fiji, Africa, or California...from Baltimore. And, thank Goodness we "missed the weather" because it was pretty much like 5 hours on a roller coaster. No amount of Dramamine can disguise the nausea produced by that.
Finally, we land at Salt Lake City; not at the 11:00 am time we anticipated when we left home looking forward to a leisurely afternoon enjoying the sites, but more like 4:30 pm. We got the Versa, again, resisting the pressure to "upgrade," and set out to find our hotel. As we passed the Hilton (not our hotel, but turns out it was the Hilton, not the Radisson where we stayed before) for about the 5th time, I gave Mr. Lincoln the phone number to our proper hotel so we could get some directions. If you have never been to Salt Lake, let me tell you that all the streets are numbered according to their distance from Temple Square and in what direction. So, you can be on the corner of 600S and 700 W. I like names, you know, like Old Hickory Boulevard, Main Street, Maple Drive etc... I do not remember numbers well. I have never been so happy to see a Residence Inn in all my life. A Motel 6 would have been a welcome sight at this point. Instead of dinner in Park City as we had thought, we ate at the Olive Garden right next to the Hilton!
Shortly after returning from dinner, I got a phone call from my sister. She was crying. She told me that our mother had been taken to St. Thomas hospital with a 103.9 fever and very low blood pressure. Granted, Mom has not been feeling well since shoulder surgery on April 4, but certainly she was not in such a dire condition when I left town. Otherwise, I would not have left. Doree was headed to St. Thomas. I talked to my brother, Sam, and he also was headed to the hospital. I told them to let me know what was going on. That is such a helpless feeling. Mr. Lincoln and I discussed if I should fly back home. Oh, good, heavens, the thought of getting back on a plane was almost more than I could bear, but I told him I would wait until I had more information. It turns out that at St. Thomas was Doree, her husband, my brother Sam and his girlfriend, but NOT Mom. She was resting peacefully (translated knocked out from pain meds) at the rehab center where she is staying for a few weeks following surgery. Seems like another poor lady was at St. Thomas with a raging fever and plummeting blood pressure. I still do not know if that lady was taken to the hospital because Mom's doctor said for Mom to be taken if she took a turn for the worse. Crisis averted, for our family. After that, we both fell into bed and slept like the dead.
Friday morning dawned somewhat cloudy, but that is fine. We drove to the convention center (right across the street from the Hilton), parked the car and walked in so Mr. Lincoln could get his race packet and enjoy the expo that is always connected to a race. You may think I am exaggerating, but I promise I am not, by the time we walked the distance from the door in which we entered until we found the expo, we were much closer to our hotel than we were to where we parked the car. That convention center is gargantuan. The expo was tiny tucked into about 3000 square feet of a room that was probably 30,000 square feet. Mr. Lincoln got his number and we went sightseeing. We saw the University of Utah and its beautiful campus. We never did (that day) find the bookstore, we went to the capitol, we went to the finish line of the race. I spent some time at Temple Square taking pictures. Mr. Lincoln scouted out which light rail station he needed to go to in order to get to the start line. We did a dry run so that I could find my way back to the hotel after I dropped him off on Saturday morning at 5:30. It was 2 turns. What could go wrong? After a burger and sweet potato fries at a restaurant within walking distance of the hotel, Mr. Lincoln got all his stuff together for the race and we slept.
Saturday morning, it is raining. I drive Mr. Lincoln to the station, wish him good luck, tell him I might see him at the finish line, which we both knew is not true because there was no way I will find it, and I head back to the hotel. Of course, I need my McDonald's diet Coke, and the Mc Donald's is only a block from the hotel. I get my drink head back, and lo' and behold, I get lost. I am passing 200 S and 400 W and the Hilton, and for someone who cries rarely, I was very close to tears. Then I see the burger restaurant where we had eaten the night before and figure surely I can find the Residence Inn...surely. I do!! I watch the start of the race on TV, actually see Mr. Lincoln there and at mile 5, then coverage of the race is over for the day. They did not even show the elite runners finish....not that I would have seen Mr. Lincoln then. Periodically, he called me to let me know how he was doing. I began to worry as the last 6 miles were taking an inordinate amount of time. Finally, he's finished. Worst time he's ever had, but a personal best for a marathon since he turned 60, so, good for him!! He was soaked to the bone, glad the race was over and ready to keep walking (at the mall) so his muscles did not stiffen. I won't go into details about that trip and the hour I waited in line at H&M to buy 2 blouses and a pair of pants. The cashier in my line had no sense of urgency nor modicum of efficiency. When we walked to dinner that evening, hoping to eat at the burger restaurant again, we found it empty...open, but no one working there..so we assumed it was closed. After checking out another diner, which was closed...on a Saturday night...oh, wonder if they are run by Latter Day Saints? Hmmmmmm, that just dawned on me. We ended up eating at the Hotel Monaco, and it was delicious!!
Sunday morning dawned. Our trip home was uneventful. While reluctant to leave, we were glad to get home. It is always nice to get away, but we are blessed with a lovely life at home. All this epic kerfuffle was taking place with the backdrop of the explosion in West Texas, the manhunt and capture of one of the Boston Bombers, and horrific weather all over the middle portion of the nation. It was disquieting and stressful, but we experienced it together. You can decide for yourselves, if you have possibly managed to get through this ridiculous epic, if we have a good story to tell.
I love Mr. Lincoln, and I love spending time with him. Life in town gets hectic with family and work and church and other wonders that life offers. It is just nice to get away together, even if things do not work out quite as anticipated.
So for today, I wish you love, safe travels, and I wish you
blessings
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