Stopped by the cops…

So far as I know, I’m the only barefoot runner living here in Hungary.  So you can imagine the looks I get when people see me — let alone when they see me running barefoot in the snow.  Not just looks, but comments too.  Most of the time it’s the same thing: ‘Nem fázik a lábad?’ (Don’t your feet get cold?!’  Sometimes I get encouragement from people huddled in thermals from head to toe: ‘Hajrá!’ (Yeah, come on!’).  My favourite one in recent times was pitched loudly across the street from an anonymous passer-by: ‘Bolond!’ (You crazy idiot!’)  This isn’t so different from the first comment I ever received, on my very first barefoot run in Central Park, New York a few years ago.  I was minding my own business, and a man looked at me as I passed by, politely saying: ‘Sir, you’re crazy.’  No sense of urgency or surprise in his voice, just a simple statement of fact.  I should have realised that this was just the beginning…

Well, this morning I had a run-in with the law.

I had just finished my run at the corner traffic lights, and was calmly walking the last 100 metres home.  Ok, it’s true it was sub-zero, and snow and ice covered the ground.  Next thing I know, I see the whirl of a police car’s blue and red lights in the road right next to me.  Since I’m just passing the garage entrance to a bank, I naturally assume they have some business there.  The cop at the wheel gesticulates to me, pointing as if he wants me to stand aside so he can enter the car park.  So I move out the way and nearly bump into the face of another cop, this one on foot, right behind me.  Now I’m cornered.

The guy asks me what I’m doing.  Yes, I’ve been running.  At least the sweat marking my clothes acts in my defence here.  But it doesn’t quite tally in his mind: shoes, what about shoes?  At this point I think of an article I read once about the police in Calgary, whose job it is in winter to stop and check on people they feel aren’t dressed adequately to face the fierce Canadian winter.  Not everyone, especially out-of-towners realise how quickly they’ll get frostbite there.  So I assure him that I’m ok.  After all, it’s only minus 5C, not minus 30.  He asks: ‘you haven’t caught cold doing this?’  I laugh, saying no: short, sharp bursts of cold actually boost the immune system.  He looks thoroughly unconvinced, and, with a withering look in his eye, waves me on.

I can see exactly what he’s thinking: ‘You crazy idiot!’

Dreaming running down by the Thames

I’m running south on the Thames towpath in Oxford, approaching Iffley lock, with the Donnington Bridge Arms on the right and the weir on the left.  In this dream, everything is as clear as in waking reality.  Colour and degree of detail are perfect.

The Thames (Isis) leading downstream to Iffley Lock in Oxford

As I pass the weir, the path slopes gently downward, and I feel the descent gently pull me forward.  Accelerating comfortably, I become increasingly aware of my dream body and become LUCID.  My legs are now turning over at an incredible tempo, at about twice their usual speed.  I can feel a beautiful harmony in my body as the landscape sweeps by, from underneath the trees by the lock, through the open gate leading into the fields beyond.  I feel an open smile spread across my face: the feeling of liberation and oneness with the reality of this dreamscape.  The motion is perfectly smooth and fluid, my legs turning over in almost impactless circles, driven by the deeper motor of my hips and pelvis.  I feel the rhythm of my feet padding down on the cool, soft, slightly muddy and puddled ground, each footstep lightly splashing in sound.  Fast and fluid, into the fields, with wintery trees and an incandescent pale blue sky above.  It is so alive!

I decide to examine my hands (one of my usual lucid dream tasks), but it’s as if my current consciousness doesn’t possess hands: in fact, I don’t see my body at all in this dream.  I force the issue, trying to see my hands again, but now (as a result?) the dreamscape begins to break apart, dissolving.  I hear a high-pitched sound like an electric motor and feel some brief, mild vibrations from my physical body as I return to usual waking consciousness.*

*These kinds of physical symptoms often occur as consciousness transfers between different layers or ‘dimensions