I hope my dreams do not come true

I'm talking about my literal dreams. The ones I have at night, while I'm watching the picture-shows behind my eyelids. Let me preface this by saying that I have always been prone to having anxiety-fueled dreams about "the worst thing that could happen" in an important situation. Actually, "important situation" is a relative phrase, since in high school that meant having dreams that my dress didn't fit, my date didn't show up, and my hair wouldn't hold curls, in the weeks leading up to prom. But you get the idea. In college I'd dream that I forgot to write a paper, couldn't remember what class I was supposed to be in, or overslept and missed a final exam. These days my anxiety dreams tend to be work-related - missing a deadline, forgetting to do an interview, or making some grievous error that leads to being fired. Apparently, large competitions will now qualify as "important situations" in which I fear that the worst will happen. Lovely. 

I'll start with the nightmare I had about an Ironman competition, just because that dream came first, chronologically. I suspect the impetus of the dream was watching the Ironman World Championships, which took place in Kona, and realizing once again how crowded and crazy the swim starts are. In my nightmare, I was not actually taking part in the race, I was just watching from the sidelines. The race started, the swimmers took off, and it was so chaotic that the competitors in the water were hitting and kicking each other in their quest to get out in front. Horrified, I watched from my spot next to the water as a young woman was kicked so hard in the head (accidentally) that it snapped her neck, and she started to drown. It was so early on in the race, and still so crowded, that it was impossible for the officials in kayaks to see what had happened. In fact, it seemed like I was the only one who had seen it. I started running around trying to find someone to alert, but no one paid me the least bit of attention. It was only when the entire competition (all three portions of it!) was over, and officials noticed that one competitor had never finished, that people suspected what had happened. At that point, the officials in kayaks went back out into the water and started to search the bottom of the lake and...well, you can imagine what they found. Now the really odd part (ha as if any part of this dream wasn't odd) was that no one actually seemed to be that concerned. Everyone brushed it off, saying "These things happen all the time, it's a risk the athletes are willing to take." In my dream I thought, "Yeah, right, that's not a risk I'm willing to take. Forget this Ironman shit!" Of course when I woke up, I realized I just have an incredibly anxious/disturbing thought process, but honestly, I hope that type of triathlon dream doesn't recur over the next...oh, three years it could take me to reach my goal.

Before you scream and run away and refuse to read anymore of my morbidity, I'll tell you that the marathon-gone-wrong nightmare was much less dark. I was actually the main character in it, rather than an observer, and it was a more typical representation of my disorganized dreams. It all started on the morning of the marathon, when I arrived at the proper location, and the announcer said the race would be starting an hour early due to an inexplicable heat wave. I panicked because I hadn't had time to warm up, use the bathroom, or fuel properly. In an effort to make the best of what I had, I groped furiously for a gel or some jelly beans, and all I could find was a bright orange Powerbar. (I absolutely can not stand or stomach Powerbars in real life). Since it was all I had, I took a few bites before I gagged. When I looked up, I realized everyone was lined up at the start, about to take off, and so I had to sprint to catch up. Then, instead of a road race, the marathon course was set up like an obstacle course. One of the first things we had to do was climb a ladder that was propped up against a brick building, and then scale across some extremely narrow window ledges, until we reached the other end of the building, at which point we were supposed to climb down a second ladder. I froze because I am scared of heights, and all of the other competitors were yelling at me to get moving. Another of the course obstacles involved running through a corn maze in a giant field. At some point during the race I burst into tears, because I couldn't believe everything was going so badly. There were a few more awful details, like attempting to drink Lemon-Lime Gatorade (my least favorite flavor) while on the run and spilling it all over my shoes, so that they squished and squashed and caused blisters for the rest of the race. Then, instead of a straight finishing chute, the final .2 miles was another maze, made of string, which I had to zig-zag through, while the finish line was in my sight. The time it took me to finish the marathon was so pathetically awful and slow that I cried again. I told my family that I wanted to run another marathon the next weekend to vindicate myself, and I was told that I could only run one marathon per year. And cue the alarm - I woke up at that point.

I am sure some dream analysts could give me a million different meanings behind my dreams. But I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to uncover the real root of the nightmares. I'm freaked out and worried that everything will fall apart and go wrong in my races - the ones I'm already registered for, and the ones I'm only contemplating. 

Now we're back to the title of my post - I really hope my literal dreams do not come true. I also hope they abate somewhat, or else I'm going to be perpetually exhausted for the next three years...