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I think I’ve seen this hill before

October 17, 2008

I’m experiencing hotel deja vu. It isn’t necessarily the style of the room, but all the appliances are identical to the one in Flint. Same off whitish fridge with the microwave with knobs instead of buttons on top. Same exact toiletries and clock with the face that doesn’t light up and confuses me in the middle of the night. I’m sure it’s the same brand of hotel, but if it isn’t a Hampton Inn, I don’t usually remember the name.

After five legs on the 50 today, I made it to Chattanooga. It was actually a good day. It’s amazing, though, how much self talk it takes for me to make it through a long day at work – especially when I’m flying alone. My pilots are amusing, which helps some. I didn’t have any particularly outstanding passengers today, but I did have a few who took the time to chat and be friendly. I’m realizing that if I’m going to maintain my sanity at this job, I’m going to have to accept that people are idiots. I’ll have to stop getting annoyed when they ask me the same question over and over and do completely thoughtless things. It’s not like me getting annoyed is going to make them stop being that way. I need to learn to be amused instead of annoyed. Watching passengers stop mid-way through a covered, enclosed walkway and stick their heads through the wall to ask if they were going the right way really made me laugh. I couldn’t help but wonder where else they thought they were going to go. I’m pretty sure they make those little walkway tunnels to lead you in the right direction.

Yesterday I nearly had my running confidence shattered. I went up to Buckhead and ran with J. First time I’ve ever run with someone else, but if I hadn’t been I probably would’ve whimped out. I was running a little behind J for most of it and it seemed like every time he’d turn we were heading up another big hill. I couldn’t believe how difficult it was. My neighborhood isn’t flat, but once I thought about it I realized I usually arrange my route so I’m downhill on the bigger ones. Guess it’s time to stop being a chicken. Through the blur of three miles of hills, I saw two people who made me feel a little better. Seeing this father and daughter carry their fluffy white dogs up the road gave new meaning to walking the dog. Regardless of whether you’re gasping up and down hills or “walking your dogs”, this is the time of year to be outside in Atlanta. The weather makes me feel alive and remember how good life is.

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