Last night I dreamt that I was walking the streets of my hometown. It was late spring, the light breeze was warm, people were smiling and I had summer clothes on. The warmth seeped into my heart and I loved the whole world.
Then I ended up at a crossroads. The only way leading forward towards my unknown destination was through dark alleys, over fences and down great heights. I hesitated, went for it, ended up at a dead end.
This was a dream about my right knee. How, up to four days ago, I floated around on clouds, feeling lucky and happy that my training was going so well. And then, out of the blue, I was trapped, trying to move forward but finding only obstacles.
What I suspect is yet another bout of runner's knee showed up at my front door last Monday morning as an embryo and developed into a full-blown adult over the course of a few hours. I walked home from work with said adult on my back with an over-pronounced, almost theatrical limp.
The gradual onset of this problem baffled the physiotherapist I asked the day after. That I hadn't run in two days when it happened baffled him even more. But he needs to examine me in order to know for sure what it is.
As the dream dissolved into reality and I woke up, the dream of running High Coast Ultra faded away. But hey. Who says I have to run it? I can always walk it and see how far I get. I wouldn't want to miss it, even if it's enough of an obstacle course even without a bad knee. Even if it's just another dead end.
I almost forgot. In my dream, I was also cuddling a dachshund. But that had nothing to do with HCU and everything to do with my wish to replace my cats, who decided they'd have a karaoke night at three in the morning, with an animal that sleeps through the night.