highway runnings

  • First scene remembered: I was running west along a curving, flat highway and then along a gravel path running parallel to it (on its south side) through the adjacent grass; there were woods on each side; it was afternoon.
  • I was inside a small brick-walled shed with a large grill built in, grilling large berries. The only light came from the open doorway. For the purposes of, I think, flipping the grill array over, three adjacent bricks, one of them next to the doorway, came out of the wall. Later, I recounted this to my family as having been a dream; we were sitting in a large brick-walled hall, near the western entrance door, and I indicated on the bricks by the door how the brick removal in the shed had worked, and we agreed that that would have made the shed structurally unsound.
  • I queued up, just after setting out on a run, in one lane of a multilane stop at a stoplight (heading south) on an afternoon, behind a bunch of people (there was a queue in every lane), who waited to start running until the light turned red; everyone therefore had to avoid cars arriving on the cross road from the west. I turned onto this road to the west, and it was the same curving highway and path as before. I crossed the highway and got onto the path, but moved to the grass beside it to let pass a highway crew or police trike-scooter that had approached from behind on the path. I was (suddenly) encumbered by a tote bag that I was carrying around my shoulder, but I still greeted an XC teammate whose route was converging with mine from another path. By that point, it was late morning, not afternoon anymore, and the woods were closer to the road than they had appeared back in the queue, when there seemed to be wide open space toward the west.
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