Dreams of a different kind...

Warning- I've noticed that with less training and nothing but time on my hands, my blog entries are getting longer. Sorry, unless your an insomniac. So lets begin...

I dream every night. I have quite an exciting life in my dreams. Most of the time I can never remember them. For some reason last night I remembered two of my dreams. They were the type of dreams that are so realistic, you think they actually happened.

Before I get into them. There was one dream that I had about 5 years ago that I still remember. Even though I quit triathlons for 15 years, I still considered myself an Ironman. In my heart of hearts, I felt that even in my current, fat and out of shape body, I had the mental strength to finish an Ironman. I believed mental strength was more important than physical strength.

Shortly thereafter, over a few beers, I told my business partner that I could still do an Ironman. He looked at me in my 220 lbs of glory and said "yeah right". About a week later I had a dream. I dreamt I was in an Ironman and I got out of the water and onto the bike and died halfway through the bike. It was too hard. My mental strength wasn't enough to complete the race.

When I woke up, I was devastated. I realized then, that my dream was right. In my current condition I couldn't finish an Ironman on mental strength alone. It was one of those moments that you say to yourself, "what happened to me". It was completely defeating. I'd like to say that was the moment that I decided to get back into shape. But it wasn't. That came about a year or more later.

But it was a moment that gave me a wake up call to quit living in the past. The one thing about exercise is that it is a "zero sum game". What I mean by that is, it doesn't matter who you are, you can be Michael Phelps, if you stop exercising you lose it and it happens fast. I find getting out of shape is a lot easier than getting into shape. Rich or poor, it works the same for everyone.

So back to my two dreams last night. One was about a half Ironman. I got out of the swim, got to my bike and my heart sunk, my bike wasn't there. It was missing. I looked at the number on the rack, it was the right number, but no bike! As I looked around I saw a bike frame, no wheels, no handle bars, nothing. At first I thought it was someone else's bike, then I realized it was mine. Someone jacked everything off my frame.

I went to the race director. He told me I shouldn't have put the bike on the rack so early. I should have waited until the last possible moment before they closed the transition. That it was really my fault. I fought a little with him and then thought, well why waste the day, I may as well do the run. Before I did that, one of the race people came to the rack to see my bike.

As we got there, it wasn't on the ground anymore. I looked around and saw it in a ditch nearby. Now all the stuff was back on it. Yes. I'm back in the race! Or so I thought. It turns out that when I went to grab the Aero bars, they were like spaghetti, no firmness. They drooped down like big dog ears when I touched them. Then the dream ended. I have no idea what it meant. My take away? I should start checking my bike in just before the transition closes.

My second dream had nothing to do with triathlons. Basically a young kid came to the door soliciting something. I was asleep in my room and heard Alice invite him in and it sounded like she was buying something from him. I always say "never buy something from a door to door salesman". It's part of my wisdom. Turns out he was going to sell her a $89 printer for over $300.

So I got out of bed and put a halt to the deal. I was so tired and could hardly open my eyes. The kid accused me of being drugged up and started making fun of me and kept telling me, over and over, that I wasn't making a sound judgement. I tried to get him out of the house, he pushed back and I'm not a fighter, but he was relentless and I had to beat him up on the front lawn, just to make him leave. Then the nightmare began. It was right out of a horror movie. As he left he had this sinister look, like he's going to get me back, big time!

I became super paranoid and eventually went down to the place where the kid worked out of. It was a Motley Crew of juvenile delinquents around a table with one adult who was an adult delinquent. I saw the kid and he looked like Frankenstein, he had over sized stitches, like a catchers mitt, all over his face. I felt bad, I didn't realize how much damage I did and I apologized.

The kid was super sweet and said "no problem mister, I'm over it, lets just get on with our lives, I have houses to call on and sales to make, don't feel bad". Then I left. But like a movie, the minute I left, the camera panned to the room at that moment as I walked out and the group turned evil, the kid especially. He then said in a "let's get him" voice, "okay when are we going to get that mother f**ker back real good"!!!! I was shit scared, holy F**k, what did I get myself into.

At that moment I realized it was a dream and thought it would be a great movie premise. My take away? I've always told Alice we should get a no solicitation sign for the front door and she won't let me. Maybe I should over-ride her and get a sign.

Then I also realized that it was probably my son, Reid "Dahmlers" drawing that he did last night and it must have freaked my subconscious out. He did one of a guy with an axe in the head. He joked it was me. I told him I need to take him in for therapy. Then I noticed it had earings. It wasn't me after all. Whew!!!

I actually know from personal experience that most young kids who solicit door to door tend to be juvenile delinquents. I was one. Starting at 13 years old I sold popcorn and drinks at the Winnipeg Jets Games and newspaper subscriptions door to door for the Winnipeg Tribune. Most of the kids I worked with tended to be poor, tough, sexually active, cigarette smokers and drug users.

The best story I have is selling newspaper subscriptions. They were so desperate for kids, area subscription managers would wait at the school doors to pick me up the minute the Catholic school I went to ended. It was a white commercial cargo van, with no windows and no seats in the back. Just two bucket seats up front. I'd open the back doors and there was other kids, who had been picked up from their school, or local pool hall, sitting on the floor inside. It looked like a bunch of Mexicans trying to sneak over the border. We'd all be bouncing around and banging into each other as they drove around.

The funniest part, was the two guys who did the driving and dropped you off and picked you up at different soliciting locations, were total burnouts. Just like Otto on the Simpsons. They be driving, smoking pot and cigarettes and the back of the van would be full of smoke. I didn't do drugs, so when they started passing a joint around, I'd pass, but I would have a cigarette or two. It was surreal and fun to experience. Because I sold a lot of subscriptions, I was their fair haired boy and no one was allowed to mess with me. They were actually quite distraught when I quit. There was a lot of "awe come on man, you don't wanta quit man, please stay man, we need ya man"! Lots of "mans". Now that I think about it, my success was probably due to the fact that I was the only one who wasn't stoned.

Switching gears, I got an e-newsletter from Mark Allen Online and it described what to do in the off season. It said to take it easy, but also not to hesitate to go in a road race or two. I checked around and found a 8KM downhill running race in Hamilton is Saturday. The best part is it's sponsored by Slainte Pub and there is free beer at the end. So I"m going to do it. Alyssa may join me and do the 4 km run. If interested, the link is http://www.roadrace.ca/race4.html.

I went for a nice easy run after work, not even with a heart rate monitor. On the way back, I had to stop at Jamie's house. He called me to pick up some beers I left there last night. What a sight, me running home with a box of beer under my arm. Now that's a beer run. After I got home and logged my mileage, I realized it's time to get a new pair of shoes, today I passed the 500 mile mark.

Easy, Easy Run - 32:56 / 3.68 miles / 8:55 pace