My dream run

I’m having a lot of dreams at the moment, bad dreams (nightmares even) from which I wake up in a sweat with my heart beating hard, sometimes just a sense of unease or sometimes full-on panic. My first moments of consciousness swirl me back into reality, pulling me out of some strange situation or emotional drama. Most times involve scenarios with my yoga teacher, as my subconscious tries to sort through the current confusion and hurt I feel after he stopped teaching me. I hate feeling like this but I’m trying to trust that my system is doing what it needs to in order to help me process the change and come to terms with it.

My most recent dream was a bit of light relief as it was about running rather than yoga! I got a bit lost and was unsure of my route, trying to rendezvous with my husband somewhere in the city. Plus I was carrying a small side table in one hand which was really awkward to run with! I got hot and flustered and my throat felt rough from breathing so hard with the effort. But that was OK as in my other hand I was running along holding a cup of water. I stopped and took some sips of water to gather myself and figure out what to do. And of course then I woke up.

I was thinking of this as I pulled on my trainers to go for a run this afternoon. I was reluctant to leave the comfort of home, the sofa and the central heating. But I understand that this is how it often is with running. Plus the dream also caused me some anxiety, ridiculous though it is. Since I signed up for my first 10km in the spring I’ve had a different relationship with running. It’s not something now I do purely for fun, for a modest sense of enjoyment and improvement. Now the stakes are higher, I have a goal. I don’t do well with physical goals, they scare me. Lately I’m learning how to work with them, use them as motivation for things I know I could do, desperately want to do. But even so, I feel trepidation more than anticipation.

And of course after my anxiety dream my run went well! I did one of my longest runs ever in my short running experience. A healthy 7.5 km. I was super proud of myself; I felt strong and sure the whole way round and I enjoyed the experience of being out in the air, moving my body, finding my rhythm. But then as my husband pointed out, it’s amazing how easy it is to run when you’re not carrying a table with you.

Maybe it could be part of my training regime? Learn to run carrying a table and then race day will definitely feel like a dream rather than a nightmare 🙂