I was set up to run. I learned that there were four courses.

All were unfamiliar to me. A young man, this was a competition. Someone else signed me up for it. Their faith in me — and I don’t know who signed me up — flattered me. I vowed to do the I could.

The four courses were laid out over the course of several green hills. They were long distances but we were expected to sprint over them if we wanted to win. As I chugged over them, I discovered various degrees of muddiness despite a wealth of sunshine. Other competitors were encountered but all of us were focused on learning the courses and practicing our runs. Dressed in dark shorts and a white tank top, I did this for three or four days in a row. Then, while running on another day, I discovered crowds gathering to watch. As I ran by them, I heard some exclaiming to others, “He’s running the race.”

From other comments, I learned that everyone else had quit or had been eliminated. This fueled me to go faster and try harder. But I also learned that many people thought the competition were over. They were crossing the courses, forcing me to go through crowds. Seeing me still running, though, some of the people acted like officials and cleared a path for me. Some now began applauding and cheering. Others said, “He’s going to set a new world record.”

I awoke as I began the final course. I felt strong, exhilerated.

Cool dream.