What have I been doing with my 16.5 hour layover? It’s not over yet, but at midnight I did this:
It just seemed like I might as well do something. I’ve been on a boat and I can’t fathom trying to sleep in these uncomfortable terminal chairs. The airline lounge closed at midnight and so I figured, what the hell, right?
What followed was a tour of the highlights of terminals 2 and 3. Were I writing the website copy to entice registrants, it might go something like this:
Thrill to the Duty Free shops, complete with cow sculpture and a cologne of I guess the smell of a bearded Matthew McConaughey surrounded by a not so ethnically diverse coven of children.
Hear the faux-ternative rock wafting from the Brazilian souvenir stands, the music so blandly poor that even a 1990s era fratboy would turn up his nose at it.
Cheer the Terminal 3 turnaround at a “cerrado for the evening” Carl’s Jr.
Sure, the course may be lonely at times…
But spectators ARE lining the area, ready to cheer runners on at the drop of a hammer.
Race announcements reverberate through the cavernous areas, promising that while Brazil needs to be wary of the Zika Virus, “a mosquito is not stronger than an entire country!” While I appreciate the PR spin, let’s be honest — it’s not just a lone mosquito. There’s mosquitoes in the grassy knolls, the streets, the world. And when the Olympics get here later this year, the pandemic will be unleashed. Maybe we could donate proceeds from this walkathon to Zika relief…
There’s ample water stops…
And we even have a pace team indication for how long it should take to get from terminal to terminal…
Plus, for a nominal fee, we even have post-race massages available!
So sign up today! Midnight comes but once every 24 hours…
***
It was about 1.4 miles from the end of terminal 2 to the end of terminal 3. That’s counting the L shaped spoke of terminal 3. So this course has it all – 4.67 loops, lollipop spokes, point-to-point. Even some technical challenges of wandering past the free gin tasting at Duty Free.
I was a bit slow, my carry-on bag’s strap tearing my shoulder to shreds as it bounced and floundered. I wish I could have stored it somewhere, put on some running shorts, and actually run the place. I think I might have been able to get a marathon in before the airline lounge reopens at 5 AM.
Instead, I walked a 13.1 miles and am now sitting in the terminal hammering out this silly little post.
Only six more hours before I board my flight…