Crazy racing dreams...

Ok, I would just like to say that I'm officially obsessed in running because it is not only the only thing I think about, it is the only thing I dream about. As in my literal sleeping dreams revolve around running. Maybe I'm just nervous. Last night I had two dreams about running that I remember. The first dream, I dreamt (is that a word?) that it was race day for the half, and I woke up at like 3am with my alarm (because we have to leave by 4:30am to get to the shuttle on time downtown) and my parents drove me, and when I got there I found out that like a ton of people I knew in high school were there. Like one of my best friends was totally there going to run the race. And she was wearing like this huge baggy pants and I was like trying to tell her that she could borrow a spare pair of shorts that I had brought because she wouldn't be able to run in those pants, but she wouldn't take them. Then some people convinced me that the race started in the basement of this building and that we all would run out of this big sliding industrial door. So I went inside this building with like two other people, and then we walked into this huge dark gymnasium with an indoor track and this weird lady was standing in the middle of it and was doing like yoga moves and stuff and they tried to get me to do them, so I did for like 30 minutes and then I realized I was going to miss the actual race so I ran upstairs and the race had already started and they wouldn't let me start late because the race had already been in progress for like 20 minutes. So I was very upset and I decided to run my own half marathon just so I knew I could do it, but no one would run it with me and for some reason that bothered me (even though I actually mainly prefer to run alone anyway most of the time. Sometimes I enjoy the company.) So yeah, I ended up just sulking around the starting line. So then I had another dream where I signed up to do another half marathon, and my dad decided to run part of it with me, like a few miles, but they wouldn't let him do that, so he decided to run along on the grass with me like not officially in the race, but there were too many spectators and he ended up elbowing some guy in the face and security dragged him away. I wish I had stayed asleep long enough to find out my time for that race so that I could be like "No, I'm not settling for anything less because it's my dream destiny to get that time!"

Anyway, all this dreaming got me thinking about my long runs. I thought about my brother, Noah's comment a couple days ago about running being boring, and I realized that it totally is. How does one keep themselves occupied by running in the same general direction for like 10 miles? In truth, each long run for me is completely different. There are the runs that I'm totally in-tuned to like every single sense in my body. Every minor smell, any way that my mouth my taste at the moment I'm completely aware of it. Those are the times when running is hard. But then there are times, like in my recent 10 miler where I completely tune out for long stretches of miles. In essence, I guess this is pretty dangerous, but it's kind of necessary for running long distances in my opinion. Anyway, I started thinking about what things I think about. The very first thing I think about when I start running is about pacing myself. Like I mentioned previously, I have a hard time starting easy when I start a run. So I concentrate pretty hard on keeping my pace slow. After the first couple of miles, I let my mind wander. Although this is weird, I always think about what it would be like running next to the people in my life who've told me that I can't. I think about this guy I dated in high-school who was like a super athlete, and every single time I would go to do something, and I would make a goal for myself, he would tell me that a more realistic goal would be lower. For the ACT, my goal was a 27 or 28. He told me I probably would only get a 24 or 25. I never felt confident enough to accomplish anything with any amount of success. I always think about what it would be like for him to pass me on the Prairie Path as I run, me running like a champ, with my new runners body flashing past him (that would definitely be one of my favorite parts of running. So far I've lost 1 1/2 inches off my waist and I'm starting to get these amazing leg muscles...I love it...it's almost better than my black toe nail...). I imagine giving him a brief nod and a smile, like I don't have time for chatting. This hasn't happened yet. I imagine that if it ever does happen, which is actually more possible than I probably recognize, it probably won't happen that gracefully.
Lately I've been thinking about this book that I just finished reading, The Ultra Marathon Man by Dean Karnazes. It's about this guy who runs these crazy races. He won the worlds hardest foot race, which is 135 miles in the middle of Death Valley in the middle of summer. He is a beast. There's this quote in it from his old middle school track coach that I love and always think about whenever I want to stop. Dean gets put into the mile race and his coach instructs him to start strong and end strong. He darts out of the starting line, and stays strong throughout the entire race, ending up winning the race. Afterwards, his coach comes up to him and says "So. How did it feel?" Dean answers, "Well, it was hard at first, but at the end it felt pretty good". He coach responds...

"Good? If it feels good you did something wrong. It's not supposed to feel good. It's supposed to hurt like hell"

SO, if you ever drive past a little short brunette bouncing along on the road, and see her muttering something under her breath, it is most likely, "It's supposed to hurt like hell...it's supposed to hurt like hell"

And that's what I'll leave you with.