Uggh. I woke up in a pool of my own sweat again! My heart pounding, trying to jump out my throat! Wildly glaring into the darkness of the early morning stillness I had to remind myself it was only a dream. It was only a dream. However, it was a dream that is occurring more frequently lately and one I have not had since the early 90's when I was running in college. And no, it was not my running around town in my tighty-whities giving everyone a thumbs up as I grin mischievously at them dream. It was the "Nightmare."
I first remember having the nightmare in the fall of 1990. It was my break-out year of my college career and I was enjoying a great season of pr's and success as our team marched forward to our first and only appearance at the NCAA's in cross country. As a leader and the number two guy on our team, I felt a great responsibility to show up and give 110% at work-outs, long runs and races. I had made up my mind that nobody was going to work harder, cheer louder, or want our team to succeed more than I was. Hence, I do believe that this is what formulated the dark demons in the back of my mind to concoct the hideous dream that would haunt me several nights a week for the next 2-3 years.
It always started the same, I would be out running in tranquil peace along Channel Drive in Annadel State Park in Santa Rosa. The deer were prancing, the fluffy bunnies bounding along playfully, and the birds singing in the glorious sun-filled dawn as I scamper along playfully enjoying the promise of the new day. Then as I turn onto the trail to head up the long path up to the lake I notice that the loose gravel is little more difficult to navigate and my pace begins to slow, my Nikes sinking further and further into the adobe clay! As the trees begin to close in on me I could feel their crusty tentacles reach for me as the incline of the trail grows steeper with each stride. In a moment of panic I break free of the treeline to find the trail racing up the side of the mountain. Where did this mountain come from?!!! There is no mountain here! But onward I try to run. The incline has become so steep that I can walk faster than I can run as my quads burn with the liquid fire of lactic acid and the pounding of the blood coursing through my veins screams for release. As the saline sea pours from every crevice of my body, I am drenched in my own body fluid as the trail has reduced me to a crawl on my hands and knees. Why am I crawling? I am a runner. But crawl I must to reach the summit as it slowly comes into view and yet...as I reach for the top, I topple backwards, falling into the abyss in silence, except for the wretched beating of my athletic heart!
Waking, I rise up in bed to stare into the darkness, my heart pounding, sweat soaked sheets kicked from the bed, it was only a dream. My wife is unaware of the terror I just experienced as she lies peacefully in her own dream world. After nearly twenty years, why has the nightmare returned? Is it because I care again about giving 110%? Am I having some kind of runner's mid-life crisis? Have the running demons in the back of my head been awakened after lying dormant for two decades to once again wreck havoc on my athletic psyche? Perhaps I will never know. But the morning calls. Time to lace up and head out for the morning run. And perhaps I might turn upon a trail that leads up a hill, I will reach the top.
As always, stay healthy, keep running and remember, it was only a dream!
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