Boarding a train shouldn’t be stressful, but I somehow manage to make it exciting. Here’s how it all went down.

I reached the station two minutes before the printed departure time. I got out of the car thinking I had time to make it to the platform at a brisk walk. I had just put on my backpack and was strapping the duffel bag over my shoulder when I heard the horn. Pulling into the station, on a track some hundred yards away, was the last southbound baby bullet train of the morning. If I caught it, I would be in San Jose by 08:10 and at work on time. If I missed it, I wouldn’t reach the office until after nine. That wasn’t an option. I had to make the train.

If it had been a simple 100-yard dash to the doors, there wouldn’t be a problem or much of a story to tell. Luckily (at least for the story), there was a raised platform, two chain-linked fences and three sets of tracks separating me from the baby bullet. The only way to reach it was by crossing over the very elevated concourse connecting the bus depot and parking areas with the train platforms.

I bypassed the slow escalator and tackled the deserted staircase at full speed, left hand gripping the duffel bag to prevent it from bouncing around, taking two steps at a time. My momentum began to wane by the third flight of stairs, but I pushed on, willing my legs to keep climbing. I sprinted across the concourse, but slowed some as I passed by the center group of ticket machines and kiosks, not wanting to accidentally plow into anyone else rushing from a different direction to catch the train.

As I ran, I yanked the ten-ride ticket from my back pocket, tugged it out of its transparent plastic sleeve and, with hurried determination, jammed it into the validating machine. It stamped my ticket with the familiar ding of validation. I didn't bother returning anything to its proper place as I charged down the stairs to the platform. I could hear dings coming from above and rapid footsteps following behind me. When I reached the bottom, I couldn’t believe it. The train was still there and I was only fifteen feet away. I'm going to make it, I thought. Relief and joy washed over me.

That’s when the doors chimed. They were about to close. Panic returned as I realized I only had mere seconds to cover the last remaining feet. Wonderful, I thought, wouldn’t it be the funniest thing if I made it all this way just to have the doors shut in my face?

I wasn’t exactly eager to find out, so I burst across the platform and onto the train with Superman speed. The doors hissed shut and the train began moving as I tried to catch my breath. I turned to find a place to sit, but turned instead to discover every seat occupied. Most of the passengers were looking at me, likely amused by the sight of a guy loaded down with baggage, slightly red in the face and panting. Superman was having a Clark Kent moment.

In the end, the mad dash was worth it. The ride itself was relaxing and I got to the office early. I only hope it’s a while before I have to chase down another baby bullet. I can be fast, but not that fast.