I had a fairly wacky dream last night. Somehow I found myself entered in a triathlon. But, of course, this was a dream, so it was a fairly whacked out triathlon. This is as much as I remember, so there are a few holes.
First of all, I arrived at the triathlon venue. It was half high school gymnasium, half mall, half outdoor pavilion. I picked up my race packet and proceeded to get ready for the race. I had a bag of race wearables and such, and plenty of time before the race started. Since this was a dream, the order of the triathlon was backwards: run, bike, then swim. So, as I proceeded to get ready to run, I realized that even though I thought I had plenty of time, the race was about to start. For some reason, I couldn't get myself to the starting line. Putting on a shirt, tying my shoes...it all seemed to take forever. It was very stressful. I barely made it to the start line, but I didn't have time to pin on my race number. Instead, I wore a number from another race. I just happened to have one with me. For some reason this was easier to pin onto my shirt.
The race started, and I immediately felt lost. I think M.C. Esher was the course designer. Packs of runners seemed to be coming out of every corner of the woods. (Apparently, the run portion of the triathlon was on trails.) I knew I was on the right course, but I couldn't figure out where all the other runners were going to or coming from. I kept asking people if I was going the right way, and they each said I was. The run seemed to drag on forever, and every second it was more and more disorienting.
I assume because this was a dream, I skipped forward over the bike portion. I don't remember ever finishing the run, but I know that I did the bike portion because I went into the transition area after the bike with a bike helmet on. The transition to the swim was a locker room. In the locker room, I was to change into my swim gear and choose my swim course. I could A. swim in the ocean, which was very rough; B. swim in a lake, which was full of leeches; or C. swim laps in a pool. Not many people chose the pool, but I did. I had to swim 160 laps in the pool, but it was an honor system. You had to count your own laps. Presiding over the pool was a Nurse Ratched type character who seemed very displeased with the whole situation.
I jumped in the pool and began my laps. I realized that I would never be able to keep track of 160 laps, so I started by counting with the alphabet. I figured that this way, I could then switch to numbers and then back to the alphabet without losing track. After a lap or two I realized that not everyone was doing their 160 laps. Some competitors jumped in the pool and jumped right back out, announcing that they were finished. I didn't protest because I figured that Nurse Ratched would inform the race committee. Instead, she started yelling at me for swimming. You see, the pool was only about 3 feet deep, so instead of swimming I was supposed to half run, half sideways swim from one end to the other. Swimming was not allowed. I switched my technique, and the more laps I did in this awkward half run/half swim, the shorter the pool got. Soon, I could reach from one end to the other without moving. I just had to reach my arm out, so I quickly reached my 160 laps.
Out of the pool, I changed back into my running clothes to run to the finish. (Apparently, my triathlon had a fourth stage of running at the end.) At the finish, race officials informed me that I was disqualified for wearing the wrong race number. I protested because the number I wore, 3, was the same as the number I had been given for this race. But to no avail. I was disqualified.
Then I woke up.
Anyone have any idea what that means?