I had a strange dream last night. Maybe it was because my bookie friend yesterday asked with some concern how I'd be in Vegas on a Saturday night and not be out partying. Maybe it's because Bart Yasso sent me this note (along with the next cycle of my training plan) "Vegas here we come. You need to bet your race number on the roulette table."
Or maybe it's cause I would wake up with a sore throat and slightly feverish on Thursday so my mind was under some duress. Whatever it was, I had a weird Vegas dream Wed night...
It is the morning of the marathon. I'm in Vegas, walking around with sis, looking for Vegas bloggers I had planned to meet. I start to think: "Werent we supposed to have had pasta together last night? Did they forget me?" then wander into a small, crowded room. On one side is Jeff, typing away on his computer. What he's typing I don't know. He doesnt look up. People mill in the background. I see Scott and Brit, immediately noticeable for their red hair. Brit is dressed in hippie clothing, her hair is in beautiful dreds (?). Moo is on her back. Both are full of energy.
We're having the pasta gathering now, I soon figure out. Um, ok, I think, puzzled, but the race is this morning.
I find myself next watching swimmers doing sprints in practice. I jump in and begin sprinting. Halfway through my first sprint I realize Im about to run 26.2 miles and shouldnt I be conserving my energy?
I am now in the middle/end of my marathon. I'm feeling strong but see no one i know throughout the race. There are no clear markings for the race. Volunteers are scarce. I've been running so long I know i must be near the end. And yet, there's only one water station throughout the race, I suddenly realize. I veer off the course to a water station I know to be near. I know it's near cause it's near the start of the race where I am now. But after, I can't find my way back to the path.
I find my family, my mom, sis, grandma (planning to be at race) and brother (not planning to be at race). They are hanging out. I see Scott again. I wait patiently for a volunteer to get off his cell phone so he can point me back to the course. Family and fellow Vegas bloggers are chatting, snacking on recovery foods. i want to finish so I can join them.
I get impatient. Why are volunteers so scarce? I'm told it's because it's VEGAS, and who wants to volunteer for a dumb running race in VEGAS???
I tap the volunteer on the cell phone. He motions he's on the phone. I wait more. Finally, "Excuse me," I say as loudly as I can. "You can have that conversation in a second, I just need to know where to go to get back on the course so I can finish this race! I've run 20 some miles!"
He gives unclear directions. I begin running on a courseless path.
The telephone rings. Dream is over. My throat is killing me. My boy says he's been rained out from work, will be home soon. Ok, I manage to get out.
I've a scheduled 8 mile hill run today. It's pouring out, I'm feverish, with sore throat. I skip it.
Just as well, I ran at least 20 in my sleep.
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4 comments:
what a great dream! you capture the essence of that disconnected and confused feeling so well.
i PROMISE i'll look up from my typing when we have the pasta feed. i PROMISE. =)
hope you're feeling better soon.
Thanks, Jeff.
you know, you never did strike me as the anti-social type!
ps. can you assure me the pasta feed will be the night BEFORE the race, rather than the morning of?
Sleep running! I like the concept. I didn't miss mileage this week... I was sleep running!
I like the "full of energy" part, but I haven't had red hair since I was six or seven. Its interesting that moo was there too. Was he running?
Not being able to find the pasta feed or stay on the race course both sound like standard anxiety dream stuff. I hope the sore throat, etc. goes away quickly.
scott, for some reason thought you had red hair. maybe just appears that way on certain photos.
moo was on brit's back, actually, like in her pic.
and brit, actually they were gorgeous dreds. you can't get them like that unless you devote a great deal of time to them. not at all scraggly like what you might picture when you picture dreds (ie unkept college male ;-) . yes, i'm generalizing/stereotyping)
and thanks for pasgetti. if i never dream about vegas again i'd be happy.
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