i woke up this morning with the memory of a vivid dream dribbling slowly away from my mind. in an effort to capture it, i rattled it off to todd in broken sentences as soon we were both awake.
the dream involved running. not away from anything, not out of fear. i was just out on a regular run, outside on a dirt road in the woods. while everything else seemed normal, my legs felt like they were moving through jello. each time my feet would hit the ground, they would quiver and then sink into the road a few inches. eventually i surrendered to the challenge and continued to trudge clumsily up the hill. at the crest of the hill, i found myself ocean-side with impossibly high cliffs looming overhead. this is when i became aware that i was dreaming. the realization rushed in like cold draft under the door, gently knocking me back into my senses.
while it’s jarring to remember a dream so vividly, this dream in particular sent me reeling a little. it reminds me of a time before i started running. as a fairly idle person in my mid-thirties, i’d paralyzed myself into thinking i couldn’t be a runner–i was too old, too busy, too out-of-shape, too broke to afford all of the fancy gear, too tired, and too insecure. there were too many too’s!
this morning, instead of relenting and sinking into the ground, i hustled up that sticky hill in my dream because (through hard work and patience) i’ve overcome those too’s. what a tremendous, waking-life realization that is.