I have not been blogging daily like I did in July, but my journals are overflowing with good stories and observations. Does that count? I did not think so. The summer days are so full, still; and this delicious momentum feels good and comfortable, purposeful and sustainable. But I have once again lost track of how much to share.
If you have a minute, I would love to tell you a dream I had last night.
I dreamed that the OKC Thunder was playing to a sold out stadium, possibly in New Orleans, and the game was about to be decided by a free throw. It might have been a technical foul situation, because the player at the line was alone, no defense or anything, except for me. I was on his left, available to help.
Let’s just say the player was Nick Collison. Okay.
He squared up, zeroed in on the task at hand, and made his noble and elegant free throw attempt, but the basketball hit the back side of the rim and popped right out. I jumped to tap it back into the air, but that too failed. The basketball went to the ground and dribbled itself sadly offcourt, to the shadows.
The crowd screamed angrily, shouting names of local Republican candidates desperate for the upcoming runoff election. The coach told me that from now on I was required to wear a long sleeved white tech tee beneath my uniform, due to excessive sweating. He also said he wasn’t surprised I missed the shot, because I was the chubby player of the whole team.
“He has a point I guess.”
As the scene drew to a close in my dream state, I tried to assert, “Ok but actually he was the one who missed the shot, I was actually trying to help… Actually.” But my pitiful defense was drowned out by shame about being so very sweaty. And, ok, slightly chubby.
This is how my running is going, friends, post marathon prep and injury recovery. Actually.