A conversation with a guy at work the other day about dreams. He described a recurring dream, or in fact different dreams but that features a recurring theme - a hotel. Not somewhere he's ever stayed, a fictitious hotel, yet he can describe it, navigate his way around and knows it well. It was a cautious discussion. When it comes to dreams, you never really know what we're revealing about ourselves, so we tip-toed around the issue, trying to man-up to what was in fact a very interesting discussion.
The curious thing was, that I too have such a place I visit, but what was really spooky was that I broke a dream about running during this chat. For some reason it popped into my head. I have a favourite route, again am able to visualise it, trace my steps, through the woods, along the river, up through the gate, over the hills...it goes on and on. Except it doesn't. It doesn't exist either. I've never really thought much about it until this conversation and since then have tried to fish out the details of this fictitious route. 
Is there any truth or connection with reality. And this is where everything has started to get blurry. The gradual realisation that this route, so clear in my mind, is in fact a myth. There are many routes I've not run around here for ages, and in fact I've had trouble digging those out of my memory, but I've never had any issue with the crystal clear clarity that is this dream route I run. If I'm honest, it's been messing with my head a little. I spent an evening over the weekend pouring over a map, looking at local footpaths.
My intention was to both see if any of these routes would awaken my memory, my real memory of actual routes I've run before, or whether there is any trigger for my pretend route. I managed to pick a route around the village that in most I'd not run before. This my sound simple, but I've lived here for years and although I knew where I was, mostly, I was on new ground for almost 8 miles, yet literally on my doorstep. In that sense, this run was quite surreal, unimaginable that I'd never been here before, mixed with the reality that in fact I live here, I'm always here.
I'm tying myself up in knots trying to explain, so think I'll dip out, but to summarise, a great run unlocking childhood memories of adventure and exploration, deliberately trying to get lost. I do have a good sense of direction, honest, but I'm someone who, for example regards and visualises a trip North on the M6 as a completely different journey to that going South, not the same journey in reverse. I guess this means I'm easily entertained...or a bit simple.
And on that note, when I got home from this wonderful new and liberating run, I eagerly downloaded my my GPS route to check out where I'd been, chartering new unexplored territory. I was, it has to be said, a little disappointed to discover I had in fact run most of this route before...but in a different direction, from the left rather than the right, this way, rather than that. Idiot! Bed soon, and back to the clear certainty of my dreams.
