A Telling Dream

My just-6-year-old daughter's artistic interpretation of my recent dream. Me sleeping, dreaming of running race. I'm the one in purple, according to Daphne.

It’s always a good thing when a blog post topic comes to me in the middle of the night, but this time I mean it quite literally: I had a dream about running that was very telling to me. I dreamt I was at a running retreat with a bunch of great women, including two real ones. (Hi, JoAnn and CZ!) The high point of the weekend was racing a half marathon. Much of my dream was consumed by me debating what to wear for the race (a fastinista in my waking life; a fastinista in my dreams). I had decided on an outfit—a bold black, hot pink, and teal argyle-patterned short-sleeve tee and my de rigeur black capris. But I couldn’t find the capris anywhere. I searched high and low, but no luck. I took so much time trying to find them, my friends left for race without me. Finally, in my dream, I had an epiphany: I shouldn’t run the race. Why did I think I could run 13.1 miles when the furthest I’d run since mid-May was about an hour? It was literally an eye-opening realization for me: I woke up.

I shuffled to the bathroom to pee, and as I tried to go back to sleep, I ruminated on the dream’s significance. Not to get all woo-woo on you, but I put a fair bit of stock into dreams telling us something. (Such as, oh, to have a crush on Xander from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”) This dream was a pretty easy one to interpret: It was my body’s way of telling me to take it easy. My plantar fasciitis-addled foot feels so close to recovered, yet it would be so easy to overdo it, setting my progress back months.

I knew what had prompted the dream, too: Two dear friends, Molly and Ellison, had asked me to join them for portions of their long weekend runs. (Oh, how I miss the pre-PF days, when I would have joined one of them for their entire long run. Sigh. One day…) Molly is training for her first marathon (she’s the pal I talked about in our most recent podcast), and Ellison is training for a fall half. After a fair bit of debate, which included considering running six miles with Molly on Saturday, then doing the same distance the next day with Ellison instead of doing my now-usual Sunday bike ride, I realized I’d be foolish to put so much stress on my foot’s inflamed fascia. I ended up running 7.5 miles with marathoning Molly--and my foot felt fine.

I think I need to explore my feelings for Steven Tyler, as it's 2nd time he's paid me a nocturnal visit.

Okay, one Friday night dream figured out. The other one still has me puzzled: meeting Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler at a party and introducing him to my athletic trainer, who was so tongue-tied, I had to chat with the big-lipped “American Idol” judge myself for the rest of the evening.  Hmmm….


9 responses to “A Telling Dream

  1. SBS–With my marathon looming this weekend (and I do mean *looming*), I’ve been having all kinds of dreams involving running–most of them involving running gone wrong. I’m hoping they mean the opposite of what they seem. :^)

  2. I had a dream that I went to a strip club where DJ Lance Rock was the headliner. Barney was the bartender, I did shots with Dora and Boots, and the whole place looked like Word World. I had to leave because Dora was getting too crazy. She keeps some bad stuff in that backpack.

    1. Oh Sarah. You must come visit me in NH the next time I am home. Steven Tyler has a house in my hometown and spends a lot of his downtime there. I won’t say where it is (although if you read his book you would know….you would also know faaarrrr too much about his sexual exploits….but that’s another story) because I wouldn’t want anyone of our lovely mothers to start stalking him (namely you). I have met him several times, and for an emaciated man who wears skintight leopard print leather pants (even when visiting his mother in the hospital) he makes my pulse race. He shows up at the town beach and ice cream parlor, and is often in our itty-bitty 4th of July town parade. By the way, have you read his book? It has way more sex in it than yours and Dimity’s. 🙂

  3. Once in a dream I sat myself down and explained why I was having so much anxiety over my running goals. It was crazy, and at the same time, it was so very sane. I remember waking up with one of those total epiphany moments, and I also remember listening to the message from the universe.

    I can’t say that Steven Tyler has been to my dreams since *probably* 1988, however Hugh Jackman is a regular… tmi?

  4. Hi Sarah
    The messages are everywhere, right? To go easy like you are and you will be rewarded in spades with a long lasting recovery. I also gotta say that I love being in your dream and that I’m running (with Cathy, a bonus)! Looking at Daphne’s picture, that must be me in the back waving my arms as if to say “wait for me!” and cursing my hip under my breath. It’s hard, but I’m trying to have some faith that my hip will heal in time for the marathon and/or that I’ll be able to do the right thing at the time –whatever that is that allows me to balance my marathon hopes w/running a long time into the future as well—injury free.

    Good luck with Steven Tyler, that could mean anything…..

    1. well, “injury free” makes me sound so pollyanna….. just wishful thinking that doing “the right thing” will somehow protect me from making a random injury worse….

  5. I have a version of that dream a lot, myself. though it usually ends with me MISSING the race start because I can’t find the right clothes!!!! Glad the foot is getting better! You will be back up to speed in no time!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*Exclusions Apply

Want some mother runner insipiration with special content and deals? 

You will receive an email within the next 24 hours with your discount code!