Easter Earthquake

Life is constantly filled with firsts. Case in point: I never thought I would be the type to run at breakneck speed after others out of a perfectly good building - but today I had that luxury. And though I've lived in Southern California for nearly a year and a half and experienced several small tremblors, today's earthquake was slightly different.

And though we were roughly 100 miles away from the 7.2-magnitude epicenter, we still experienced, um... a lot.

Nathaniel and I weren't doing anything out of the ordinary: just perusing books at the REI in Encinitas. He was going through a massive index of hikes throughout California, and I had just put down 'How to Not Get Eaten.'

Seriously.

I was reading up on Mountain Lions. And bears. (Nothing on sharks - I checked. Trust me).

Anyhow - I was just picking up another book when the shaking started.

At first it was really light, almost funny. I looked up and caught other patrons looking around. People were listening and I could hear laughter. It didn't seem all that bad... I turned to Nathaniel to make a joke and got ready to delve into my next selection, when the shaking seemed to intensify.

The rattling grew louder and louder, and I could see camping packs swaying on their holds. People's laughter turned to horrified gasps and - before I realized what was happening - the building started to sway.

It was very surreal - but I could feel the ground slipping and sliding underneath me. Almost like an amusement park ride - you know when you enter the Fun House and attempt to walk over the unstable floor? Same thing. Except the entire building around me was shaking.

People seemed frozen, rooted to their spots. No one wanted to move; instead they listened intently and studied the other patrons. In that moment before 'fight or flight' kicked in, we were paralyzed by fear - not knowing what was going to happen and unsure of what to do/how to react.

I could hear carrabeaners and objects all throughout the store dancing and rattling on their racks. And rather than stopping - because at this rate, things had been shaking for thirty seconds or so - it got worse. It was as though the cooking sets had developed minds of their own and were competing to make the loudest noise possible. The sleeping bags on display were swaying back and forth, the synthetic fabrics slipping and sliding against one another.

I kept waiting for the shaking to stop...but it didn't. And rationally - I knew that the building I was in was safe (REI!) and built well after California earthquake codes and been put into effect.

I looked around for a doorway or bench or anything to get under - but everything was open and nothing looked like a viable option. Besides, its not like I was on the 35th floor of a skyscraper (like characters from one of the many earthquake-themed movies my Dad enjoyed watching while we grew up.)

And that's when I saw people running - parents ushering their kids towards the door, grown men sprinting down the stairs to the exit, and several employees staring dumbfounded at each other.

When you hear people yelling, managers shouting for people to "WALK AND REMAIN CALM", and see items violently swaying on the shelves, you can't help but think, "GET ME OUT NOW!"

The shaking grew louder and louder and I could taste the fear twist my stomach into knots. Time seemed to slow down, and even though the shaking lasted officially for 90-120 seconds - it seemed to take a lot longer. It just didn't stop.

We needed to get out - pronto.

As the books were located near the back of the store, Nathaniel and I were some of the last ones to finally exit. He - being the cool-headed guy he is - remained calm and walked the entire time. I, on the other hand, ran like I stole something.

My first time sprinting out of a store - go figure.

At least my pneumonia-recovering lungs functioned properly. We must look on the bright side - right?

Even outside, we could still feel the ground shaking, still hear the low rumbling of earth moving. I put my hand on the paved parking lot and could feel the back-and-forth-never-quite-catching-up-to-itself-slipping motion of the earth beneath. And I will never forget it, as long as I live.

After (what felt like an eternity) - the shaking stopped, slowly fading into nothing. I looked around at the others in the parking lot - REI customers and patrons from the restaurant next-door were laughing nervously again, happy that it wasn't worse and appeared to be over. One of them was holding a drink of sorts, and I wondered if there was alcohol. I could have used a shot about then and on the drive home suggested to Nathaniel we stop along the way.

Thankfully The Pizza Port was closed. Oh well. (We didn't learn that unfortunate tidbit until after slowly driving by).

Additionally, I was surprised to see about half the people were on cell phones. Already.

And before I knew it (and after giving Nathaniel a quick hug), I called my Dad. He had survived the 1971 San Fernando quake, and growing up he would occasionally tell stories of being shaken awake, convinced a nuclear attack was underway.

Dude - if I was shaken out of bed at 6 am to a 6.6-earthquake, in which the epicenter was mere blocks from my dwelling - I would probably think the same thing.

I just had to tell him about my experience...and then see if he had heard any news reports about the quake.

Naturally, being that the darned thing had ended less than three minutes, nothing was appearing on any of the major news wires. But when he checked the US Geological Survey Site, he confirmed the quake. And then we swapped stores.

So there you have it.

Today I learned that I have no qualms against running from a swaying building, and that my husband remains cool under the most extenuating circumstances (I credit flight school and his Marine Aviator training). And when aftershocks hit, my anxiety level rises exponentially greater with each aftershock. But also that people are caring and understanding, and look out for one another. And...I will consider alcohol as a remedy for stress.

But even more important than that, is that life is unpredictable and you never know what you're going to experience as you greet the day. If it takes a bit of earth shaking to remind me of this fact, well then - okay. I'm just grateful that it wasn't worse.

And that I didn't pee my pants. Oh yeah, I knew there was something else I was forgetting...