A couple days ago, my friend Brad posted about a dream he had about the upcoming 2008 Leadville Trail 100 Race. It’s an excellent story and I don’t want to spoil it by summarizing, so I’ll instead just say: click here to read it. It’s wonderfully surreal.
Hey, check me out: I used “surreal” in a sentence.
Anyway, reading Brad’s post reminded me that I, too, have been plagued over the years by odd dreams about racing in the Leadville 100. These dreams are all strange, and they all have a certain weird thematic undercurrent.
These dreams are as follows:
- I’m Late: I show up to the race twenty minutes late, because — for some reason — I had a difficult time remembering the combination to the lock on my gym locker, which is where — of course — all my bike clothes are kept. And my tires were flat. And they had moved the starting line.
- The Race is Different: For some reason, we are all told the day before that the Leadville 100 is now a cyclocross event. And there is a swimming leg. So it’s now a 100-mile cyclocross / swimming duathlon. Both in gear and in training, I feel that I may not be optimally prepared. However, when the race starts I find that it doesn’t really matter what kind of bike I have because by “cyclocross,” the race organizers actually meant that we were not allowed to ride our bikes at all. Rather, we were required to run alongside them, pushing them the entire distance.
- The Race is Inside: For some reason — which my dream has not been kind enough to provide — the race is not being held on the usual course. Instead of the traditional Leadville-to-Columbine out-and-back, the race is being held entirely within the confines of the old gymnasium — the one where race meetings are held, and which barely contains the thousand or so participants. The race consists of going around the gym floor, going up the stairs to the second-story bleachers, walking the circuit there, coming back down the stairs, and repeating. My dream does not provide how many repetitions of this makes 100 miles.
I guess I should just be grateful that I’ve never had a dream where I show up to the race in nothing but my underwear. Or that I’ve never dreamed that I realize, at the start line, that I haven’t ridden my bike even once this season.
I have to assume that others of you have had memorable dreams in anticipation of an important ride or race. I’m very interested to find out what they are.
Or, if you feel so inclined, feel free to interpret my dreams.