Race Nightmares, anyone?

So it's about 5:50 am and I've just woken up panting, heart racing and in a cold sweat. No, I'm not ill (despite spending the past 48 hours having all forms of human germs and excrement propelled at me in varying fashions working in the ER).  I've just awoken to what I hope isn't the first of many race nightmares.

See, SIL and I have our very first race coming up this Saturday, a 5K, and while we've done 3 practice 5K's and admittedly feel pretty confident, my subconscious isn't letting me off the hook so easily. My subconscious is basically the equivalent of the power and cruelty of a high school bully mixed with the criticism and crooked eye disapproval of an Marie Barone, the overbearing mother on Everybody Loves Raymond. So, in normal fashion, my subconscious is a little pissed I've gone cocky and think I am going to be able to complete a 5K in less than a week. And is now going to use every opportunity it can to knock me down a few pegs.

To set the scene for you, I was getting ready to race. My husband, daughter and I had driven our Escalade with our large yacht hitched on the back (maybe we were boating later? also, I have money in my dreams) to the scene of my first race at my old high school. It was a madhouse. They were reconstructing the stadium so parking was near impossible and there was loose ground everywhere. It had recently rained, so much of the ground had turned to mud. There were people everywhere. And nobody was hustling. Think Woodstock.

After fighting our way to the starting line, they began a countdown for the race...3 minutes. You've got this, I thought to myself. You've trained properly, you've completed 3 of these. I shifted my weight from foot to foot in nervous excitement. This was it, my time to shine. 1 minute. I began going through a mental checklist in my head. Jet pack (aka hydration belt) check. Chappy (chapstick) check. Tissues, check. IPhone, check. Laces tied....laces tied...(Bueller? Bueller?) Apparently when remembering to pack my yacht, I forgot my sneakers.

I began running back to the car with a 50 lb backpack on my back, literally. For this, I have no explanation. Except perhaps the correlation between being at my old high school? Needless to say, I wasn't running fast and at times felt like I wasn't running at all. Treadmill to nowhere. I finally got to my sneakers and was making my way back to starting line, desperately trying to squeeze my way through the crowds. I never did make it. I woke up.

Anybody else have running nightmares? This is new for me. Hopefully it goes away!

SIL and I also recently have been switching up our run/walk intervals. We use Galloway's method and were originally running at a 4:1 but I noticed us to not be able to carry on conversation and, to be honest, I was starting to not have any fun. We dropped to a 2:1 which wasn't working well for SIL, so today we upped it to 3:1. We weren't winded and definitely had energy to go faster and longer. I think we'll stick with it for now.

Hope everyone has a great week! Anyone else running a race this weekend? Or have tips for first timers?

~J