Dreams: August 3, 1997

gravity pulls too hard

A big group of people are forming on the street in order to participate in a running race. Some of my friends are there, and they encourage me to run in it. I agree to do it and join them at the starting line. It begins. I'm jogging. Already I'm tired.
I'm scared that I won't be able to keep up. My fear is coming true; my legs feel like they're struggling against molasses. It takes a lot of energy to pick up each leg and move forward. I trip and have to catch the ground with my hand, the dry soil sifting through my fingers as I pull myself forward.
The race is a loop, all around a block of the railroad district in Ashland. One big house takes up the whole block. We are running on the sidewalk and street. I cut through the house at one point. It's easy to do; I open a door into a living room, running through to the other side of the house.
I'm now on the street (going the opposite direction of the last lap). The street looks like 3rd St., like I'm going down toward the RR tracks. I see a woman up ahead of me. She has long black hair and is wearing black & white striped shorts. Her thighs are big and white; they jiggle with bumpy fat as she jogs. I can see the creases of her buttcheeks with each step she makes. I wonder to myself if my thighs look like that from the back? How do my legs compare? Bigger or thinner?
I realize that the woman is V. I call her name and catch up to her. She's very friendly, enthusiastic to see me. We start talking. She tells me about the wonderful merits of a program. I can totally relate to what she's saying. I try to get in a word, agreeing with the benefits. But she's so excited that she won't let me talk. We continue to jog as we talk.


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