Woke up in a panic this morning. I had just come out of dreamworld and I was PISSED OFF.
My dream started with me signing up for the Chicago Marathon. In real life, it’s my ultimate goal. I plan on running it in 2012. I was excited, nervous, but for some reason, I felt like I had trained enough. The night before, I was at a party and got home late (much like my last 10K). I didn’t have time to pack or put out my outfits. I kind of just crashed on the couch.
When I woke up, I realized that I was running horribly late, which happens to be my biggest pet peeve and fear, so I ran to the start lines without double/triple checking my gear. As I made it to the start line, I saw that all the corals were lining up. I was in the third to last one (even in my dreams I’m slow… must work on that), so I knew I had a bit of time to relax and get warmed up. As I was making my way to gear check, I noticed that I didn’t have my bib (the race number) on me. I knew that I couldn’t run without it so I frantically begged and pleaded with the race organizer to let me run. She looked a bit like this:
After realizing that Ms. Trunchbull/race organizer wasn’t going to let me get anywhere near the corals without a bib on, I called up a sleeping SOB and demanded that he race downtown with my bib. As I waited, I watched, horrified, as all the corals left in 2-3 minute intervals.
As B arrived and handed off my bib, I darted to the start line. But when I got there, they were packing it up and putting up the finish. The sag wagon had already left with the last runner to officially cross the start. And I was left alone, in tears, as the elite runners were coming in (even in my dreams, everyone is MUCH faster than me).
Odd thing was that when I woke up, I noticed that it was 5:40. My alarm didn’t go off and I missed a training run. Not a big deal, but a bit odd considering my dream.
Now, knowing me, you know that I HAVE to analyze this dream. Sure, it could be nerves. My first half marathon is less than 3 weeks away! While I got in a great 10 mile run on Saturday morning, I’m still feeling anxious. This could be the same as brides who have nightmares about walking down the aisle naked or guests eating chicken instead of steak… that sort of thing.
That’s a bit provincial for me. I’m equating this dream to my fears of not being able to lose any more weight. I admit that I’ve been slacking these last few weeks. Between my social life, my want to spend time with my boyfriend at home, and my depression… I’ve stopped tracking my food and my gym visits have dwindled to once or twice a week. I’m taking more “rest” days off, even when I truly dont need it. It’s all excuses.
I seem to do this a lot in life- I get started on a good foot. I’m excited, raring to go, and I’ve prepared myself for every obstacle. But at some point in my journey, I’m always held back by my own doing (i.e. forgetting the bib). And I’m, of course, left to watch the rest pass me by.
Unfortunately, this is where I should write all the things I’m going to do to turn this rut around. I’ll get myself fired up and hopefully inspire one or two of you to at least do a push up. But I’m just not in the mood. I’ve got The Decemberists concert tonight (YES), my niece spending the night on Friday, my nephew’s first birthday on Saturday, and the Paul McCartney concert on Sunday. My free time and devotion to the gym is going to continue to take a back burner this week, along with food tracking. But luckily, I’ve been doing this for long enough to know how much fitness I truly need to get and what kind of food choices I need to make to balance each other out. I’ll be fine.
But after this week, feel free to yell at me till I get to the gym.