That's a Quarter of a Year...

It has been three months today since I first flew an airplane.
That's it.  Just three months.

I feel certain that something here must be incorrect.  How can such a short period of time have passed?  Three months is nothing.  Am I stuck in a time vortex?  Is time on a loop for me?  Have I been watching too much Doctor Who?  Well... yes I have been watching too much Doctor Who, but that's irrelevant.  Three months doesn't seem like much time at all, and yet, as I said before, it seems like it has been a lifetime.

I tried to think back to a time when I didn't always look above when I heard an airplane pass overhead.  I can't. I know it must have been less than four months ago that I developed such a Pavlovian response, but the time before is failing to register. 

While I was at work today, one of the servers found a child's book called Angela's Airplane (Annikins).


I grew up somewhat ignorant of Robert Munsch, so I had never heard of it.  But I suppose a child left it behind at The Restaurant, and this other server found it and gave it to me.  I thought it was adorable, and perhaps a little bit of the Universe making itself heard, as it is so wont to do.

Happy three months to me, and many many more to come.  It's going to be a long journey, and this little anniversary will surely amount to the tiniest fraction in the end, but right now it feels like an accomplishment.

Happy to say I am in a much more positive state of mind than I was following my last lesson.  For a time I was considering taking a week off from lessons in order to relax a little and not be so frazzled, thinking that if I was so easily distracted then I would never focus properly.  However now that I have calmed down a little, I see that it would be a stupid move to take time away from my lessons.  Two weeks between lessons would surely make me forget things, and make it even harder for me to perfect my landing.  This will only make me more frustrated, and then I'll be back to square one.  Plus I love that Tuesday always has me in the air.  It's my happy.  It's my drug.  I don't want to quit!  I need that next hit!

This weekend will see me doing a spot of province hopping for The Airline.  I am quite looking forward to it.  These days I am happy with any and all flights I can get my eager little hands on.  That's the curse of charter airlines.  There isn't always going to be enough contracts to keep everyone flying full time.  But I'm still working every so often, and I think it will just make me appreciate my pairings a lot more when they come my way!  (This pairing in particular has the added bonus of potentially being firefighter movement!  Thank you powers that be!)

That Poor Airplane's Shocks...

Early morning is a beautiful time of day to fly.  The air is sharp and clear and smooth. 

However, at 8am after driving an hour to get to my flying lesson, my brain is none of those things.  It's the opposite.  It's dull and fuzzy and...bumpy - absolutely full of nonsense.

I was not impressed with my performance today.  Not in the slightest.  I went from feeling like a rockstar for several weeks in a row to feeling like an utter idiot.  LANDING.  Why does it have to be so bloody difficult?  Honestly, I understand the concept.  It's not hard - nose down, come in at 70kts, keep the center line, come into cruise attitude and pull the nose up gently as you see the runway start to sink ahead of you.  Yeah.  That's the idea.  I can do it.  In my head.

At this point I have to stop.  I might be being a little unfair to myself I suppose.  I can land an airplane.  I can do it - I've done it about a dozen times now, "safely".  That's the word My Instructor keeps using.  "Safe".  It's a good word, it implies that I'm not likely to corkscrew my aircraft into the ground, which I look upon as being somewhat successful.  I can do a safe landing.

But I am a perfectionist.  I despise not being good at something I am trying to learn.  So all this touch and go, touch and go, touch and go stuff, while very enjoyable, is beyond frustrating if I am not getting things done as well as I should like.  I did notice a sliiiiight improvement.  There were two landings mixed in with the crap that weren't all that bad.  But for the first time EVER I landed feeling fairly fed up. 

We had been working on the South Field, on runway 25, so I was in the circuit with all the Air Canada Jazz and the West Jet and the Porter on the big runway.  It was my first time on 25, and so I had some difficulty judging when to turn to my base and my final approach and such, and that just added to my frustration.  At one point during the lesson I even considered asking if we could call it a day. I bit my tongue on the request though.  No giving up.  Giving up is not allowed here.  I knew I just needed to power on and not be weak.  The only way I'm going to get better is if I practice, and practicing doesn't happen if you give up half way through a lesson.  I hate that I even considered it.

We did go back to runway 22 after that, which made me a little more comfortable - I'm much more used to that runway.  I tried a couple more landings, and My Instructor demonstrated an engine failure in the circuit, which I am supposed to start practicing next lesson.

My favourite moment of the day came while I was lining up on runway 25 ahead of Jazz or someone.  I heard them talking to the Tower, and the tower responded.
'You are number two, just behind a C-150.  He's lining up to land on runway 25.  Just slow down and give him about 30kts to clear.'

He.  Him.
Oh man!  Did I switch gender again and forget?!  Oh wait.  Nope, still a girl.  Still got boobs.  Still don't even sound remotely like a man on the radio.  Come on buddy!

By the time I got home I was officially Captain Crankypants, and packed myself off to bed for a nap to rectify the situation.  It didn't work.  Positivity has left the building, ladies and gentlemen.  But don't worry, it will be back.  I understand that landing is probably one of the hardest things to learn, and obviously it's the most important.  I understand that every pilot (except for those lucky, talented sods that I don't even want to think about right now) goes through this frustration, and that it really isn't something you can learn how to do perfectly in just a few lessons.  But I want to be there.  I have this overwhelming impatience in me when it comes to flying.  I want to learn how to do everything all at once and be good at it.

If the saying is that you have to learn to walk before you run, how could we apply that to flying?  Maybe you just need to learn how to be safe before you can be graceful.