Anxiety Fran, and some other things too

I had an anxiety dream about the Fran workout last night.....

I arrived for the workout only to see that it had become a major competition. Instead of a handful of elite weight ladies, there were hundreds. The barbells were completely different; square plates with intricate jigsaw type locks for the barbells to slide into. In place of a traditional pull up bar were large rings suspended over 20 feet in the air. We had to jump up to grab them. None of the other athletes seemed to have trouble. Just as the officials were about to 3-2-1-GO, you'll never guess what showed up....

Zombies. I kid you not. Brain eating, half dead human, zombies. Mass hysteria broke out and I was relieved that I didn't have to do Fran. (note: Dear Subconscious Brain, you would rather fight ZOMBIES than do Fran? Really?) Anywho, people scatter, workout is forgotten and I end up in some ancient mansion with hordes of people trying to get away from the zombies. Then, it got really strange... Out of the crowd steps my deceased grandmother. We run into a room to hide out and start catching up on events since she has been dead. I ask her about my late grandfather and she tells me he was reborn a couple of years ago, she decided to stick around and watch over us, but should be joining him soon enough. (Weird) I asked if Tony (my late stepfather) was around and she said that he wasn't presently, like she was (?) but he's always available (??). The dream continued on its path to weirdville as her eyes started to cloud over and she began to look like someone else. I asked why she was looking so odd all of the sudden and she told me it was hard for her to keep matching my memory of her, because her true appearance would confuse me and make it more difficult for me to recognize her. Ooooookay. I woke up right after that.

On this day last year the levee between reality and hallucination inside my stepfather's brain broke open and he began his fast decline. Language becomes completely inadequate as my experience one year ago today reaches into territory that words cannot touch. I can say that this experience was a springboard into living my life differently, with more forgiveness and optimism; with a more concrete appreciation for this body of mine and a steadfast promise to treat it well. It is unfortunate that tragedy is sometimes the most profound reminder of how impermanent and wonderful this life is. I hope that most of us can reach that conclusion without being touched by that caliber of sadness first.

Anyway, Fran on Saturday, without zombies or visits from dead relatives. My goals have shifted slightly into positive thought and perfect form territory. I'm willing to sacrifice time if it means my mind is clear and my form stays stellar.

Suck it Fran...