Dream On

I'm not generally a dreamer.  At night nor during the day.  I mostly drop into bed and I'm out until my alarm clock or Lucy rudely wake me up. But let life give me a little something to be a tiny bit anxious about and then I become a dreamer.

Right before my wedding, ages ago, I kept having dreams that my teeth were crumbling and falling out.  Over and over I'd have the same dream.  I think it has something to do with stress.  I wasn't stressed over marrying Ben, but rather all the details of a wedding.  Bleh.

The past week I keep having race dreams.  It's like the classic dream where you're late to class, or can't find your class, or get you locker open.  Except it's the running version.  Where I'm at the race but I'm not in my running clothes or the race is starting and I can't find the Start line-up and no matter how I try I just.can't. get.there.  

It's dumb, really.  

I wake up in the morning and feel tired.  Dreaming makes me tired.  That's why I like to stick to realism.    It's brutal, but at least I can sleep.

On a basically unrelated note:  I fell in a pothole this morning during my last taper run.  It is super dark in tiny-town in the mornings and it's not the most well-lit.  I try to wear neon shirts and I bought a little light to wear on my collar and reflector wrist bands.  I sort of think the little light just confuses drivers rather than making me more visible.  It's like they're so distracted trying to figure out where the little light is coming from that they sort of drive right towards me.  The pothole got in my way as I was trying to jump the curb.  The benefit of thick ankles:  Ya just keep on running.  

I need a break from tiny-town drivers.  And they need a break from me.

  

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