True stories.


#100BM Day 20

I am in some kind of trail running obstacle race with paint.

The beginning is very tedious, through a Disney World-sized parking lot with kiosks every few hundred metres so they can throw paint on you based on selected criteria. Someone splats a balloon full of purple on my right shoulder. I can’t remember why.

We run on, breaking free of the asphalt, into the woods. Everything is green and brown and fresh. We come upon a very steep hill, going down. It’s super lush at the top, but we can see that it ends in a vast, snowy field with huge, jagged, white-topped mountains in the distance.

Stumbling down the incline, many of us just sit and slide much of the way because it’s too steep to run. In the distance, there’s a village that looks like a cross between a Swiss chocolate box and the sleepiest town in Middle Earth, full of tidy little cottages, each with perfect clouds of puffy smoke coming out of the chimney.

As we get closer, we notice there are cars, though. There is another parking lot, snowy and half-full of vehicles, at the entrance to the village, not that odd for what might be a ski resort town. But there’s also a hint of dark blue. I squint and examine it, in case it’s indicating where we’re to run next.

It’s a giant roadside sign for Blockbuster video.

I make myself wake up, because the dream just got that little bit too unbelievable.

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