The trip home was supposed to take weeks. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 24:61 says it took a day.
"And as the way was shortened to him in his journey to Padan Aram, so was it shortened to him in his return, that in one day he went, and in one day he returned." The Aramaic idiom is kefitzat ha-derech — the leaping of the road. The land beneath the camels folded itself up, the way a sheet of cloth folds, so that the distance disappeared.
The sages loved this miracle. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 95a) lists three biblical figures for whom the road leapt: Abraham's servant, Jacob fleeing to Laban, and Abishai rescuing David from a giant. Each time, the common feature is the same. A person is on an urgent mission that belongs to the covenant, and the map starts cooperating.
Read the phrasing of the Targum again. The road was shortened both ways. Going to find Rivekah, coming back with Rivekah. The outbound trip was already an answered prayer before the return. Providence did not begin the moment the bride said yes. It began the moment the servant said amen.
The Maggid notices the contrast. In ordinary life the miles are miles. In a covenantal mission, sometimes the geography itself becomes a servant. The Master of the Universe is not bound by the calendars of caravans.
Do not take this as a promise that your own road will leap. Take it as a promise that the God who shortened the servant's road is the same God you are walking toward. The miles may not change. But the company does.