When I’m traveling, the happiest moments for me (other than while at the destination) are when I’m walking between or to gates. iPod playing something with an edge, long strides, and a self-assured air, I’m splitting crowds and know exactly where I’m headed.
I always get a little elated at these times. Shuffling my feet down the breezeway, finally breaking free just after the ticket counter, I sidestep to the left and accelerate past the masses, weave through the seats in the waiting area and I’m in the open, a giant game of Frogger ahead of me.
I don’t know why this makes me so happy. I invariably have between three and fifteen hours of sitting in a seat ahead of me, so it can’t be the anticipation. Or maybe my sub-conscience has a larger worldview than my immediate perspective does and I’m looking forward to the destination.
Or maybe I just like stretching my legs a little. When I’m moving between gates, I don’t use the moving sidewalks, I take the stairs in lieu of escalators, and I don’t use the shuttles unless I have to.
I walk. I walk quickly.
I am alone on the stairs.
I am racing you on the moving sidewalk and winning.
And I am smiling.