The End of the Road: Day 11

12:50PM
I'm sitting in seat 25F on United flight 873 headed home to Dulles. After barely sleeping last night, despite the luxury of being on a bed rather than on the ground in a sleeping bag, I awoke this morning at 6:30AM without an alarm. (I have a feeling that the combination of the time zone changes and the generally strange sleep schedule that comes with camping is going to make it hard to adjust back to normal East Coast living.) I think the main reason for my restlessness last night was the fear that our car would get broken into and somehow force me to miss my flight this morning. The fact that I'm a nervous traveler always complicates matters. But unlike many of my unfounded/irrational fears, this one was brought on by: A) John telling us we parked about two blocks from the San Francisco ghetto B) John insisting that we take everything out of the car unless it was able to fit in the trunk and finally C) John telling us about his roommate's car that got broken into on their first night sleeping in their house. So essentially my fear was brought on by John.

After hearing all that, of course I spent the entire night sleeping like a mother, keeping one ear open for her child. The only difference being that my child was a silver Jetta with Virginia vanity plates spelling out CHAPES. I felt for sure my baby would stand out as a prime target for crime, but luckily she survived the night unscathed!

This morning, we quickly repacked the car since we had hastily shoved everything in the trunk the night before. After saying our goodbyes to Mark, we were off! And then there were two.

Victoria got us to the airport in a jiffy and before I knew it, Tyler was gone and I had a few hours to kill roaming around the San Francisco airport. I discovered the San Francisco Soup Company near my gate, which was a pleasant surprise since I had been craving a sourdough bread bowl after seeing everyone and their mom eating them down at the Fisherman's Wharf yesterday.

After a nice solitary lunch, I loaded up on snacks for my 5 hour flight. Not that I really needed all of these snacks, but the arrival time of my flight being 9:15PM and the non-existence of an operating kitchen at my final destination made food seem like an important carry-on item. And now that I'm trapped on the plane, I'm feeling no buyer's remorse.

Although, I did just finish a book Mark let me borrow entitled, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, while eating my bite sized Chips Ahoy cookies and I did feel a little guilty. During my 10 day trip, I only manage to sneak in one little 5 mile run. I'm hoping I'll be able to get back on track when I get home. I've been itching to wear my super cool fuel belt since the moment I left it looking sad and lonely on my bed at home. It's hard to believe that in just a few hours we'll be reunited.

Oh and I guess it will be nice to see my friends and family too. I've missed them. Almost as much as I've missed my fuel belt.

Almost.