The Mad Dash

Don't let this be you, get to that bus/tram/train stop on time!

You'll see someone do it almost every day. Everyone has been there, and it's never an awesome experience. Especially when loaded down with bags, on a hot day, or while wearing flip flops or high heels (if you're a woman, I don't wear high heels. Except that one Halloween...)

It's the mad dash to catch your tram, bus or train, an embarrassing 10 seconds or so of attempting your best Usain Bolt impression, lunging at the last second to avoid the closing doors and then looking out the window and praying that you didn't lose your phone, keys or wallet while in pursuit. Meanwhile, you're feeling a dozen set of eyes on the back of your neck, and can only imagine the snickering and judgement being levied against you for being late for the connection.

As my buddy Dave said when he visited here last month, there's just "no way to look cool" when you're in a position to hustle to catch your ride. But it sure beats having to wait until the next connection comes, risking being late to wherever it is that you're heading.

I've seen groups of drunk guys make the dash, sometimes leaving a few comrades (and usually half-drank beers) behind in the process. I've seen elderly ladies hauling grocery bags hit another gear they probably haven't reached in years. The businessmen in suits are the best, because we all know how much it sucks to be a sweaty mess when wearing a suit in the dog days of summer.

While most dashers make their connection, I've seen plenty of folks miss it, their faces caked in frustration as the doors close on them. Some throw their hands up in disgust, many swear like sailors.

I've taken to cheering mad dashers on if I see them coming, their own little cheering section, you might say. I've even high-fived a couple, a nice little reward for their hustle.

Personally, I've stubbed toes a few times attempting the dash in flip flops. Once, I tripped running up steps in front of a group of about 50 tourists who were on one of the city tours. Stay hot, Kamide, I believe is what baseball buddies of mine would have said. I slipped on ice attempting the dash this winter (had what snowboarders call a "yard sale" on that one; bags, drink, hat all went flying everywhere), and once had some funny guys holler "Run Forrest" at me. Really, fellas? That's so 90s.

Dave was right, it's really hard to look cool on the mad dash.

The next time you see me, remind me to set my alarm.