The dream run, though it lasted for only a few steps, was much like my morning run, except that in the dream run, I ran on the road without sandals. The asphalt was warm. The bare soles of my feet felt like they were being massaged. I’m not sure, but I think this is the first time since I’ve started running that I’ve dreamed about running. My memory is unreliable in that regard. Experience and dream overlap, and are often interchangeable; and sometimes, it seems, indistinguishable. I’ve asked it before: am I dreaming now? Yes or no, yes and no, neither or both, I have no proof to offer, no certain way to tell. Certainty is for those who know, or who are afraid not to know, which is another way of saying, there are many ways to run.
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Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet