Have you ever had a dream were you wake up and think, “Thank god that’s not real!” And then you realize that it is?
I dreamt last night that I was in a triathlon and kept stopping for hot fudge sundaes and beer during the race. I’d swim and eat. Then I’d forgot where the trail was. I’d find my way. Then I’d stop for more hot fudge sundaes and beer.
When I woke, I realized that I am indeed going to be in a triathlon and I am suddenly panic stricken. In reality, I’m just doing the bike. That’s it! But, now I have other people relying on my dysfunction to complete this race. I can imagine them pacing back and forth, looking at their watches, waiting for my leg to come in…
I’m starting to think that for me, any kind of physical competition is like going into a dark hole of uncertainty. I’m just athletic enough to be a hazard to myself. I’m just crazy enough that I’d consider stopping a race for an ice cold refreshment.
Hide the beer.
Put a lock on the freezer door.
I’m in training.