Road Warrior Princess

Sleeping with the Fishes

I realize that the title of this post is totally inaccurate - with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my body (and the fact that I haven't been able to sleep past 4 am yet), there is no way I would have been caught sleeping.  Still, it's catchy.

I was a little wary when "Flo" at the hotel travel desk suggested that I sign up for scuba diving.  I'd been planning to visit the Great Barrier Reef and was convinced that snorkeling would be incredible enough.  However, if you've ever watched a Progressive Insurance commercial, you know that women named Flo can be very convincing.  So, she signed me up to board the SilverSonic destined for some of the Ribbon Reefs.

The Ribbon Reefs are called such because they lie at the outermost portions of the Great Barrier Reef.  The Great Barrier Reef lies at the edge of the continental shelf surrounding Queensland, Australia.  In fact, there were a couple of times that I could hear the water breaking out on the continental shelf, and I must admit that it was fascinating.

Not as fascinating as the life below, however!  When I boarded the SilverSonic, I was certain I knew what to expect - after all, I'm a strong swimmer, don't mind diving down to catch something cool, and I've snorkeled all over the Caribbean as well as Hawaii.  None of these experiences came anywhere close to the teeming life I spied on the breathtaking reef.  I was literally surrounded by species of coral, fish, sea worms, and other things I never actually saw but certainly saw me.  Let's face it, when you're wearing a bright blue bodysuit, you're hard to miss.  Don't mock me, I was wearing it for protection from sun/jellyfish/cold of the water...okay, you can mock me.

The first dive site was a great opportunity to warm up at Agincourt Reef, swimming all around the Nursery Bommie chasing reef sharks (see video) and diving down to test my ears.  Unfortunately, I was having quite a problem with my right ear from a cold I'd had, but no amount of poor acting on training videos was going to convince me to not try the diving at our second site.  I'd paid up front - I don't take that lightly, and I wasn't about to disappoint Flo.

My instructor, Matt, was the friendliest of the staff and probably the most patient, which is why I was assigned to him (these people are pros; they can smell trouble).  I was determined to be on my best behavior, but that darned ear kept me from descending as quickly as I wanted.  Thanks to the aforementioned poor acting in the training video, however, I finally managed to equalize enough to realize the human dream of breathing underwater.  I couldn't believe it!  This perspective was unlike anything I'd ever seen, and once the fear of choking/air running out/lungs exploding had subsided (to be honest, I got distracted by the view), it was a total game-changer.  I'm no longer a mere snorkeler, I'm big-league now.

To bring me down from my pedestal, a cheeky hump-headed wrasse nearly knocked me in my head as I fondled a sea cucumber on the seafloor.  The fondling was sanctioned, but "Wally" was not happy that he wasn't the center of attention, so he poked his snout into our business.  However, no amount underwater drama was going to take back the fact that I had completed my first dive - I have the certificate to prove it! 

With proof of my experience, endless memories, and photos to share with you, I only regret leaving one thing behind: my trusty blue jumpsuit.

First Day Down Under

Time travel is fun, but wears a girl out.

This trip to Australia represents many firsts for me - my first trip to the Southern Hemisphere, my first time on a lie-flat bed on an airplane, and my first time crossing the International Date Line.  Needless to say, the trip was long, and when someone asked me yesterday how long I had been awake, I honestly couldn't say.  After all, since I left the 15th of September and arrived the 17th, do I count the 16th or did I skip that day entirely?  And where did that day go?  A black hole?  Can I apply to have that day back when I leave to go home?  Too much math. 

All things considered, the trip has been fairly smooth so far.  Flights were on time, my bags arrived, and so did I - fairly alert.  However, what a MADHOUSE when I tried to leave the airport!  You'd think they were giving away free Tim Tams at the Exit.  Travel tip - when faced with the International Arrivals area in Sydney, do NOT wait in the line to exit.  See if you can find a uniformed staff member, get him to stamp your card (and btw don't bring any snacks into the country), and bail out the back way.  This will save you approximately an hour of standing around and possibly add two years to your life.

Now, after a heavily caffeinated day at the office (well, to be fair, a day at the office and at Union Pub with friends and colleagues, new and old), I'm next off to Cairns.

Cairns is a city in Queensland, Australia, on the northern coast.  It's quite warm this time of year, and is also best known for access to the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree Rainforest.  My hope is to visit both - and to get some rest and work in while I'm there.  I don't see a lot of fancy shopping or eating in my future, though, because this joint is expensive!

My stomach is telling me that a steady diet of beer and coffee just won't do. 

The Morning Commute

I am NOT a morning person.  I never have been, which is why I switched my workout schedule to mornings a few years ago.  That - and the fact that afternoon workouts were cutting in to my rigorous happy hour schedule.

The morning workout makes the rest of the day much more bearable, and if I don't manage to get one in before work, it had better be because I'm dragging myself from bed to desk for a day of limited interaction.  And by "desk", of course I mean "kitchen table."  Yes, I've been spoiled by telecommuting, and no, I won't apologize for it.

Generally, though I travel by air most of the time, and don't always have access to a decent gym, I make certain to squeeze in a workout each day, even if it's a short one.  However, one route I take continues to confound my goal: the commute into Washington, DC.

When I moved to my current home base, I told myself, "Self, we won't be traveling as much!  Washington, DC is so close, that we will be commuting there quite frequently!  It will be so close and convenient and so conducive to being at home each night.  Self, this is great news, isn't it?  Self?  ANSWER ME!!"  *Ahem* 

Myself and I were quite mistaken, and believe it or not, I am quite grateful, because after commuting into the city for the better part of last week, I've determined that there is no desirable way to get into our nation's capital from where I live.  And how far away from DC is that, you may think?  Well, it depends...

Essentially, I have three options to get into the city during waking hours:

1. Join the other 10 million angry, volatile, possibly murderous drivers on the highways into the city.  Approximate drive time: 4 1/2 days.  Okay, that was an exaggeration.  It's really only 1/2 a day, if I live through it.

2. Board the MARC train.  There are three departure times, which include: "Too early for breakfast", "Still dark out", and "Are you f***ing kidding me?!?".  Approximate commute time: 2 hours with no Internet access and a veritable panoply of colorful characters, known as "train people".

3. Join the frustrating commute in option 1 to the nearest Metro station, hop on the train, and hope that I don't bludgeon someone out of sheer desperation from the drive in.  Approximate travel time: 1.75 hours.

Needless to say, none of these make it easy to get a workout in when I've got a morning meeting, and all are quite long and frustrating.  During this particular week, I kept my motivation up for an entire day, which when combined with the "Too early for breakfast" MARC train plan, essentially killed all hopes for a pre-meeting workout the rest of the week.

It was then, perhaps, out of simple frustration that I found myself so out of sorts on the Friday MARC commute home.  I said to myself, "Self, this commute has GOT to stop."  Self may very well have jumped ship after that first MARC ride of the week.

That afternoon, I surveyed closely those people who boarded the train with a confidence that said, "I am a train person, and I don't care who knows."  These frequent commuters, champions of the morning rush - quite fascinating they were in their natural environment!  These people do this ride each day; they make friends with other commuters, and they are smiling!!  These train people take pride in the trip, and ascend the stairs with the air of a benevolent ruler observing the adoring masses of the kingdom.  Their jovial demeanors made the ride seem almost fun. 

Could it be that I was envious?  That riding the MARC could be something I'd enjoy doing?  Could I see myself giving up air travel or telecommuting or even switching workout schedules in order to pursue a more frequent train commute?

As I found myself pondering this possibility, I happened to look at the ground, and remembered that the toilets on the train had not been working earlier.  Now the contents were pooling around my shoes and my briefcase. 

Decision made.  This would never happen in the 10 foot walk between my bed and the "desk."