Barefoot at airport security

There is one place in the world that I absolutely detest. There is no way around it if you want to fly the friendly skies:

Airport security.

Yuck is all I can think of to describe it. Over the weekend we flew down to Oakland to see my sister, brother-in-law, and of course my 6 month old niece. Usually the plane that goes between Portland and Oakland is a turbo prop. I do not mind the turbo prop, but often it gets chilly down by your feet. I have no idea why that type of aircraft is so dang cold, but it means that I try to make sure I am not wearing my beloved flip-flops when flying for fear of frost bite on my toes.

Alas, it means I usually wear running shoes when I know I will be flying in a turbo prop, but sucks when going through security. Why is it that the place in the airport that they make you take off your shoes is also the filthiest, most disgusting place seemingly in the airport (well maybe second to most bathrooms)? I am a bit strange, I would rather go barefoot then keep my socks on. There is something about walking across the floor in my socks and then putting my socks in my shoes and transferring sock filth to the inside of my shoes. I guess sort of like walking through dog poop and then putting your shoes on directly afterwards. For some reason, I would rather be barefoot, and then walk across the floor on my tippy toes, sit down, wipe any dirt, stray hairs, and whatever random gunk off my bare feet before putting my socks and shoes back on. Strange I know, but that is how my mind works.

Why is it that the place they make you take your shoes off never looks like it has been vacuumed or cleaned? I have seen Macy’s dressing rooms with cleaner floors and that is not saying much. They usually close security down for a few hours a night, you would think the last people on the shift could vacuum and mop. Or, they could send in a cleaning crew. Or do they clean it each night and us humans shed that much grossness in a day?

Who knows. I still dread taking my shoes off going through security. Who knows what the person before you left behind. I shudder thinking about it, breathe deep, and release the thought of it until my next trip.

A Marathon, Flip Flops, and one Badass

Two things about me. First one. I am addicted to my flip flops. If I lived in California I would most likely wear them year round. As soon as it gets warm I buff my feet, pull out the flip flops, and let out a sigh of relief. I wiggle my toes, my feet begin to turn just a shade darker after the long 9 month intimacy they had with my socks. I will be bundled up with a jacket and scarf, but as long as my feet do not freeze, you will find me in my flip flops.

Second thing. My term for someone who amazes me is: badass. Impress me, and most likely you will make it to my “badass” category. Just remember the list is short. However, I think I have just found someone who takes my use of badass to new levels. Keith Levasseur ran the Baltimore Marathon on Sunday in flip flops. Flip flops you ask? Yes. Flip flops. He ran it in 2 hours, 46 minutes and 58 seconds. Again, I tell you a badass. He will be filing with the Guinness Book of World Records for a marathon in flip flops.

pile of my flip flops…

And I thought I had a full week at work, blogging, running, and personal life changes. I guess I have work to do to catch up with Keith. I need to run my first marathon, then I can decide if I ever want to try to run one in flip flops. But, Keith, you can keep your world record.