I don’t always load my plane to max weight. But when I do, I’m
hypersensitive about everything!

Planes don’t fly if they’re overloaded.

And looking back at the summer, making a successful takeoff (and
landings) was a weekly event.

A successful flight starts at about 5:15am for me…Sipping coffee
and looking at the weather, I double-check my calculations to decimal
point precision. There’s a lot of them…purses, luggage, fuel, oil, blankets,
water, and the precious cargo of kids!

Then there’s the center of gravity. Gotta make sure everything is
balanced to help the plane hurdle itself into the sky!

Can’t forget about the invisible threat of Arizona heat. The febrile air
grows stale as the hours pass. It’s only 7am and the later it gets, the
more lift I lose.

It’s a precarious balancing act, much like being a bench chemist.

All factors — thrust, lift, weight and drag — have to meet smack-dead in
the middle of perfection for our summer takeoff.

There’s no time for soothing whining kids or reffing arguments over
crayons. There’s no asking dad if they can bring yet another heavy item.

The kids load first. Seat belts are untangled. Headsets are juggled in
everyone’s lap. Aubrey has a pink one.

Kids are moving too slow, though. I give my oldest son, Blair, that look to
“take charge of the babies.!” He’s been here before and not really
giving a shit…

Mom is next. I steal a look at her “tight jeans” as she crawls in.
Aside from the jeans, her main job is to keep everyone fed, hydrated and
happy during flight, while backing me up on my navigation and fuel burn.

I’m the last one to climb into our tight cocoon. But I hesitate.

I review the last 15 minutes in my head.

Did I crosscheck everything?

Did I put in enough fuel to float us to the cannabis-fat air of the
Colorado Rockies? I look at my fuel receipt…again.

Did I hold back enough fuel to not weigh our vessel down?

Check.

There are signs for pilots to look for when their bird can’t claw its way
to the sky. I go over them mentally, as if I’m reading “The Pilot’s
Handbook.”

Some aviators miss them and don’t live to warn the others…Am I rested
and alert enough to notice them? Is my reaction time on par to make that
split-second decision to abort?

Yea.

I repeat the calculations in my head, one last time, while thinking of
Lea-Ann’s “jeans.” I also acknowledge that despite humans having a
hundred-year track record of successful flying, lifting my family and their
coloring books into the sky isn’t natural.

The great aviator Ernest Gann’s words flash through my head:

“The atmosphere allows for minor degrees of penetration and it holds
certain secrets. It’s not too far-fetched to suppose that only the dead have
discovered them.”

I ponder what those secrets might be. As a mortal still breathing, I
convince myself that carelessness and pilot error were the hunters. I
gather my thoughts and treat them like a bounty of jewels — ready to be
cashed in for a safe departure into a hot mass of air, aiming for a chilly
ride at 13,500 ft.

I’m in the pilot’s seat.

To my youngest son, Skyler, I’m a transformer. He watches me more than
any of my other three kids. He gauges my confidence, using it to boost his
own as I shift around in my seat.

Flying with dad is a puzzle he’s still assembling…Dad is an anomaly. He
has tattoos and a foul mouth, does jiu-jitsu, rarely socializes outside of
the family and has odd work hours at home and in the lab.

Knowing my audience, my every move is sheer-display, the cheap tricks of a
magician selling flimsy hoaxes as mysticism. If my movement isn’t smooth
and deliberate, Skyler will be unsettled. He’ll ask a million questions
until his puzzle-loving mind is satisfied.

I flip my battery on. Crank the master switch. My panel comes to life.
Lights flicker, and a two-dimensional map is plastered on my screen. I
twist my fuel and throttle knobs into the firewall. The engine is fed with
warm fuel and I yell, “Clear prop,” like Ernest Gann and millions of
others, before me. A quick twist of the ignition brings our ship to life.

On Skyler’s stage today, I’m “breaking a leg.” He shouts his
approval by saying, “Love you, Papa.” The prop settles and we’re at a
slow idle. I study my engine metrics and grab my lifeline: The Checklist.

The checklist is a pilot’s safety cord. It’s been used for over a
century to help us fill in the blanks of our memory. It revolutionized
aviation safety like soap revolutionized health. Without it, risk shoots
straight up.

I check everything once and for all. Then I shift over to the foreign
language of “pilot speak” to coordinate with the tower to join the
thousands of other planes flying above us.

All senses engaged, feet on the rudders, hands on the yoke, flaps set, both
computers running properly, I push the throttle all the way in. Our rollout
is swift thanks to the 45 PSI my wheels are hauling.

Our mad dash to the end of the runway is longer than usual, as expected.
The end is filling up my site picture and I feel the wheels begin their tap
dance. A great sign. I push the yoke forward just a hair to keep our skiff
on the ground to gain more speed…

Abracadabra, we’re off the hot pavement and climbing out.

Every thousand feet above the runway signals a job well done.

At cruise altitude, I’m cleaning up my panel and cockpit like a chemist
wiping down his lab bench. Blair’s asleep. Aubrey and Skyler are coloring
contently, while sneaking a few glances outside. All three are most excited
about riding their bikes downtown and roasting marshmallows with Grandpa.

Pilot, chemist, dad or soccer mom, everyone needs a checklist for a healthy life...

Here's my favorite:

- 16 ounces of spring water 2-4 times daily
- 18-minute workout (Free in APP store, search 18 minute workout)
- No sugar
- Eat 3 meals a day, spaced out by 5-6 hours
- If it tastes sweet, spit it out

That's 5 simple checkpoints to help encourage health...like a pilots
checklist though, it only works if you actually use it.

Here's to safe flights, and healthy lifestyle habits.

Dare to live young,

The People's Chemist
www.thepeopleschemist.com

P.S. Low stock alert on Raw-T, Cardio FX! Stock up at www.thepeopleschemist.com/store

P.P.S. Fat loss programs are shipping end of week! Sorry for delay!