Last night I did some powerful sleeping. When I awoke, I was dreaming about running. I have only done that a few times. In this dream, I was running well, very well, like back when I was young. I stopped on the south end of the Keesler Bridge to tie my shoe. A group of young me who looked like the LETA (law enforcement cadets) folks over on campus, passed me, stopped, and started doing calisthenics in front of me. I started back running and was trying to see how fast I was going. I had three watches, two on my wrists and one in my hand. I never could get my pace. Then I was on Howard Street and went into a restaurant. This part of the dream seemed familiar. I was going to look at one of the seating areas and wound up in the kitchen.
Why am I writing about this? I have no clue. It is rare that I dream about running. That is surprising seeing how important it is to me. My pace was a big issue in the dream. It's been a big issue lately as I struggle to beat a walking pace on my long runs.
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