Don't be fooled by the title... its not some inspirational piece - this was an actual dream I just had (its like 3:15 am)... and actually it was a nightmare. I'm still sweating. I remember us all being on some beach... we were swimming in the waves and then it turned into the competition. The waves were amazing and relentless.... no one could get through them... we all kept getting washed back to shore. Dave said something about going deep and we both dived and held our breaths for a looong time.... I have images of huge waves barrelling overhead. When we surfaced, we were on the other side of the breakers...but the water was now like some huge reservoir and we were near a giant concrete wall.... but miracle of miracles... it was shallow right up near the edge! We ran in waist deep water! Which was very helpful... seeing as we were pulling what seemed to be a comforter through the water.... I haven't figured that one out either. Well, it was no time and we were across - I remember a sign with a little drawing of the water and the numbers 2.4 and a "you are here" written where the 2.4 was.... I felt great relief at that sign for some odd reason... Transition time - this started funny because Dave and I were the 1st out of the water. But then I couldn't figure anything out. Do I put my shoes on? What shirt do I wear? Wait a minute, I only brought the old bag that I keep my mountain bike stuff in! I rummaged through for a really long time. People came... people left. Dave was apparently having the same issues. It got busy in transition... then to our horror, it got quiet... everyone had come and gone. Just before getting on the bike, I realized I should test - someone in transition had a meter and I borrowed it... but then missed the results of the test and had to show her how to find it... I was getting desperate.... my blood sugar was 26. Oh no, I thought, I will have to eat! I didn't bring anything!! There was some food at transition for some reason and I ate yogurt raisins and finally got on the bike. Of course, for some reason it started in a mall. I was riding on that short carpeting and having to make a ton of turns - none of which were marked and the people who were supposed to be there to tell me to turn weren't paying attention - I'd go past and they'd yell "come back! Turn here!" I finally made it to some roads... in Mexico, of course... I've never been to Mexico, but there I was. The bike was not comfortable at all and I realized that it was because the bike child seat was on the back! Nice touch. Oh, and I was wearing jeans. I made it to some town (I think I called it Mexico City) and would occasionally see random people I knew and then I saw my dad and I stopped and took off the child seat and gave it to him.... I whined about not preparing for this at all (not athletically, just in bringing stuff) I don't remember what shirt I had on, but dad gave me this orange and yellow safety vest... by safety vest, I mean it was an actual life preserver! Dave went by and slowed down... which was really good of him... and off we went.... the last thing I remember was the realization that Michelle was going to beat me in the bike (we have this ongoing smack talk about the bike part) ... and up I woke.... sweating. OK - if you are a psychoanalyst, I really don't want to hear from you. And I have no idea where John was. To try to explain - after school today, Dave and I picked out the bike he is going to get.... more on that later.... but that had to be some subconscious fodder. Oh, and I'll end on a good note. This evening I ran 4 miles at a 7:45 pace (which is huge for me) and then ran another mile or so to Chic-fil-a. It felt great.... well, the Chic-fil-a part did.