Ok. Down to the final hours before we see if my exorbitant change fee/repurchased tickets actually get us to Madagascar.
I’m slowly packing up, trying to minimize the clutter. Per running tradition, I’ve got my running gear and shoes in my carry-on so if the luggage gets re-routed to Timbuktu (which usually is a joke but in this case might actually happen) and doesn’t get to me in time, I’ll still have what I need to run.
I’ve updated my silly Facebook page with my own custom Madagascar logo. I hemmed and hawed and settled on this one:
I did mock up an alternate one celebrating the fact this is the first running of the event but opted to go with the one in black:
This morning, despite a lingering sore throat and general aches and pains of miles and years, I struggled out the door to get one final US-based run in. It was less a run and more of a walking dead shuffle. But it was a shuffle forward. Mom reminded me that it’s not really a question of if I can run the race; it’s just a question of how long it will take me. And she’s right. It would take a lot to have me DNF.
Like, say, not get on board a plane because my ticket is for “Kevn Hanna” and not, ya know, “Kevin Hanna.”
But given the fact that I can point to the astronomical sum of money on my Amex card that just got billed for a new ticket, that shouldn’t be a problem. The problem remains whether or not I can get any kind of refund on the clerical error ticket.
Putting it out of my head. Leapin’ lemurs! I’m headed to Madagascar! Home to these 10 weird and wonderful creatures!