I’ve written of Marathons and “Schnauzerthons,” but this morning I was involved in another athletic endurance endeavor known as a “Luggagethon.” After tripping over the suitcases in our closet all week and sorting out what we should pack, it was time to lug them to the car. After our recent purchase of two large Hartmann baggage, we barely met the fifty pound maximum for our 10-day supply of clothing and personal items. The cases were bulky and heavy as I slowly maneuvered them down the stairs and into the garage. Rotating wheels were of little use in terms of convenience. Only brut strength was of any practical  use in this first stage of the “Luggagethon.” Two smaller carry-ons and a backpack easily fit in the trunk, but were still a hassle to pack and stow. These would get heavier and heavier throughout the day. This is just another reason why this event is not for everyone.

The two bags were too big for the trunk so I had to lower the top to get them in the back seat of the car. In this sense, a convertible quickly transforms into a pick-up truck. However, since they were still too large to clear the narrow passage between the front and back seats, I still had to hoist these cumbersome bags over the headrests to fit them inside. Then I simply closed the top for the drive to the airport, completing stage two. Fortunately, rain was not a factor this morning.

Once we finally found a parking spot, I lowered the top and did my best imitation of The Hulk, getting the suitcases to the ground without pulling any muscles. It was then an easy roll to the shuttle, as I rested up before getting them up the steps. Naturally, we barely missed the first bus, and waited for the next one that was well beyond capacity. I stood holding on to both bags so they wouldn’t roll back out the doors during several stops on the way to the terminal. Upon arrival, I once again muscled them down the steps taking precautions not to wrench my back. The wheels once again became handy until I got to the escalators, where they suddenly became a liability again. It was such a relief to finally hand them off to the attendant after one last back-wrenching dead-lift to the scales. I would not see them again until Bangkok, and hopefully we would all arrive at the same time.

The end of Stage 3 left us with just the three carry-ons to deal with through airport security. After taking off what I had put on in the closet earlier that morning and removing the electronics from my matching Hartmann briefcase, I was almost there. The gate, however, was about as far away as it could possibly be. My muscles were once again aching by the time I had finally settled in my economy seat. In several hours, I would make sure that I would exit with everything I brought on-board with the exception of some snacks that had settled in my stomach like a rock. It was then a scramble to the International Terminal after flight delays getting into San Francisco. I’ve “left my heart there” but would prefer that my luggage stays with me.

Stage 4 will be the “Terminal Dash” in Tokyo, after a ten-hour flight. We’ll again gather our precious belongings and shoulder them to the final flight into Bangkok. Today’s “Luggagethon” will conclude once we’re reunited with our stowaways, lug them to a cab, and transfer them to our hotel room. The next one will start anew in a few days when we head to Phuket.