Fooled ya! I didn’t actually see Kara Goucher. Instead, I had yet another in my ongoing series of Kara Goucher dreams. The worst came several months ago, when I dreamt that I was lined up on a track, getting ready to race, and Kara Goucher was crouching to my right, so close that I could see her forehead vein palpitating.
Last night’s encounter had a totally different setting. I was on the set of one of those vapid morning talk programs, and they were featuring as guests some 2008 Olympians doing little demonstrations: Jenn Stuczynski was pole-vaulting awkwardly in the cramped studio space. Kara was forced to run in place.
Then it was time for the pitch. Jenn and Kara were led over to a table on which sat a plate of ghastly looking processed meat products. Kara surreptitiously flipped one of them over to hide the label. But that didn’t get past our blonde, helmet-headed host. She made an exaggerated frowny face, chided Kara for not being a sport, and flipped the package back over for a proper product placement. Kara looked both angry and despairing. Jenn fiddled with her shorts and looked away.
Then, in a fit of petulance, Kara sent the entire contents of the table crashing to the floor and stomped away.
It was awesome.