In my dream, I’m signing up for the Marathon des Sables. This annoys me greatly.
If one is to dream of a race, wouldn’t it be better to dream of the actual race rather than standing in line in a room waiting to fill out forms? And why am I day-of-racing an event in Morocco?
I have no idea why I’m dreaming about this race. I ran an event once with a guy who had run it a year earlier, and he was still having flashbacks. The closest I’ve ever come to the race is watching the bootleg video of Bangle singing “Walk Like an Egyptian” in an after-hours karaoke after too many Jell-O shots. And anyhow Egypt’s about three countries over from the start line.
I’m at the point in life where I’m not going to leave Texas out of fear that it will be impossible to get back in after we secede, so I would be reluctant to travel to a race like this anyhow. Not on the radar at all. Not that the Garmin actually has radar. But lordy, does it love looking for satellites.
But here I am, signing up for the race. If you’re familiar with the Marathon des Sables, you know it’s one of about 9,000 events these days to be proclaimed “toughest footrace on Earth.” Six days, 156 miles, run through the desert, self-supported. Much sand. Much heat. Much fun. Except that’s not what I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming about standing in line.
You can dream anything. Couldn’t the site for signing up at least be at Rick’s bar in Casablanca?
Why am I having this dream? And why do jellyfish not actually contain jelly? Yes, I’ve checked. I live on the beach. I get hungry while running.
Then, I wake up to the sound of intense heat. That heat being Mo running the dryer. “Oh, did that wake you up?” she asks. Mo is funny. And that is that.
I lie there in bed pondering. Why did I have this dream? I haven’t thought about the race in 20 years. Dreams are weird.
Oh, well. I’m headed out today to replicate the Monday run. A long slog (slogging is the new jogging, you know) to test the Altra Olympus with Lanolin again.
I’m not looking forward to it. I’m terribly sunburned, and it’s intensely sunny outside. It’s going to be a really hot run. There’s no water on the course, so I will have to carry my own stuff. And I’m not that excited about running through the sand on the course.
Amazing thing, dreams.
On the other hand, perhaps I had a typo in my dream. Instead of the desert, it was supposed to be about dessert. Perhaps a Medium Chocolate Frosty, if they haven’t run out.
Maybe there’s a bootleg video of Bangle singing “Frosty the Snowman” somewhere …