I had my first triathlon dream in a long time last night. I think brought on by: too much pizza for lunch, Zyrtec, and resisting the urge to strangle my swim coach and a couple other tri-people.
Background: I had signed up for Columbia, then unexpectedly had another surgery. I was going to volunteer, but that process was even less well organized than the race.
I'm at Columbia all sleek fitness and ready to go. First indication that this is a dream. Somehow I had already done the swim. Even sleeping I put off swimming. I'm biking and doing great when I almost fall, realizing I blew a tire. Not got a flat, but a full scale blow out like tractor trailers get. I pull over and someone who is apparently support crew for me helps me get my tire off but we can't fix it. The tire is all misshapen and not uniform, almost triangular. I know my race is screwed but I'm begging and arguing with the organizers to let me at least complete the run because either way I need the workout. I'm also trying to make sure that they mark me as DQ'ed so I don't ruin someone's chances of winning. Catholic guilt pervasive even in the subconscious. I'm off and running, and come back just in time to see my car towed. I'm chasing the tow truck and yelling when I "wake up" and realize that it's just a dream and that I'm taking a post-race nap and that I'm in my car. Some other random stuff involving eating dinner (again focused on food even sleeping) and then I really do wake up.
Seriously, if I'm going to dream about tri, why can't it be a good dream? Like I'm a pro triathlete who's won Kona and shagging a NHL player who has a PhD in astrophysics?