To: Your Dreams.
I consciously fell behind on this whole ordeal because I wasn’t exactly sure what my dreams are.
I mean, I have a lot going on in my head. I make up stories about my own future as well as the prospects of both friends and strangers. I have zillions of ideas that I want to pull off, I have faces I can’t place to names, I have patchy lyrics to songs I’ve only heard once or twice. And I have so many dreams I can’t even place a number or time on them; sometimes, I’m in this perpetual state of sleep thinking of all the crazy things I want to accomplish.
That being said, I’m not quite sure if I have this definite “dream;” not even a vague frame of what I want my future to look like.
I guess it would include running. I want to get the national record in the steeplechase. I want to run all through college, and maybe even beyond. I want to make it to the Olympic Trials; maybe even one of those last heats where I get to hug the wiry bodies of the women moving on to Rio or London or where ever the next few Games are. I want running to be a lifelong passion; I don’t want to stop, I eventually want to coach and show other girls all the places it can take you.
But that’s just literal stuff. I think that if I could pin down my dreams, they would be slightly more obtuse. In all honesty, I just want to live. I want to have good jobs and bad jobs before I settle down into a career. I want to laugh and laugh and live on the side of the street to friend’s apartments to my own home, where ever it may end up. I guess “falling in love” will happen eventually, but that’s not my dream per say.
I don’t even know. It all seems so lame all put down in front of me, because I can most certainly say that my dreams are bigger than any of the words I know. I just, it’s frustrating, you know? It doesn’t bother me that I don’t know what I want to do, but it bothers me that I don’t why and what I’m aiming for beyond mile times and interval workouts.
I guess we’ll see.
