Death By Airport Sprints

I am writing this from a crop duster airplane headed from Denver to El Paso. I am starving to death and winded from the 1/2 mile sprint I just completed trying to get from my late arriving Atlanta flight gate A25 to my connecting flight gate A58. My sprint became a life or death situation as I was running just past the half-way point of my path and I could actually hear someone paging MY NAME over the Denver International Airport intercom!! What a horrible pronunciation of my entire full name! I was frantic... even more than I already was... As I bolted past the cowboy on the moving sidewalks almost knocking him down, I could hear my own haggard breath heaving as I ran. I am sure he was surprised to see this much taller, much heavier woman running by him in an almost full-blown sprint with laptop backpack on and carry-on roller bag flailing out from my side. I then realize that the gate is down another level of escalators and run down those too. I finally run into another straight hallway of gates and see mine far in the distance... I run even faster. I get there and the door is closed with two airline employees standing there staring at me as I drop my bag, bend over and attempt to catch my breath. The guy on the right says, "are you Kelly ____?" I gasp for air and nod yes. He replys that he just took me off the list... I must have forcefully stated that he just HAD to put me back on it... and that I just RAN to get this flight... all he wanted was the magic word... "please"... Easy enough... "Please, sir- let me go to El Paso tonight".... and he did. I head out the door and see the crop duster across the parking lot from the gate... and then I have to sprint again to get on the plane before they pull up the stairs and seal the door on it! By the time I run/climb the stairs and am standing in the aisle of the plane (heaving of course) EVERY person on the plane is staring at me... very weird. The flight attendant says "welcome- you made it" and I say "yes, I did!- Thank the Lord for my boot camp training!!". And they all chuckle. So here I am... sitting on a crop duster that is only a little over half full, a kid has been kicking my seat for the past 20 minutes and I am staring out my window at the HUGE propeller next to me... only a 1 hour flight though... Halleluyah! I could eat a small horse and drink a gallon of water right now...no wonder- I just realized that my sprint was at the mile-high elevation- now I know why I was breathing so hard...