A marathon like no other.

Tomorrow morning, I’m going to lace up and run 26.2 miles. There are a lot of thoughts that go through a person’s head in the days and hours leading up to lacing up and tackling a full marathon. Those thoughts, for me, are slightly different today than they have been before starting lines past.

I need to do laundry.
Don’t forget to buy a bagel.
What’s my face mask/bandana situation?
I’m out of peanut butter.
Should I wear a race bib?
Is 45 degrees too cold for shorts?
Do I know the route?
What pace am I working with here?
What’s the deal with this tracking app?
Where should I drink beer after?

Unlike every other marathon I’ve ever run, I haven’t talked to my parents about whether or not they’re coming. We’re still in a pandemic. They’re not. I’m not going to a marathon expo to snag myself some swag, hype, and a few last-minute gels. I don’t have to worry about starting at a specific time or even navigate transportation to a designated start, because the start (as I’ve decided) is … 5 minutes from my apartment.

According to me.
My race. My rules.

Today, however, a new thought popped into my head: I’m going to start this thing by myself. That’s bizarre.

Typically, when you visualize the beginning of a marathon, the moments before you take off after your own potential, you get excited.
The big crowds.
The fanfare.
The adrenaline.
The race posters.

This Saturday doesn’t feel like that. When I think about Saturday, I focus on persistence. I think about finishing what I’ve started. As odd as it feels to lace up alone in my apartment and kick things off with only the company of my Garmin and my thoughts, it also seems appropriate. So much of this year has been about showing up when no one is watching. Doing things that make me feel uncomfortable and braving unfamiliar territory. Homing in on the things I can control and throwing my hands up in the air when it comes to everything else, bracing for whatever might happen next.

I have no goal, aside to finish. No expectation, aside from the forecast. The only time you can’t trust your training is when you haven’t done it. I’ve certainly done a fair amount.

Really, this Saturday is just another Saturday when I get up and do something that makes me feel like me.

No big crowds.
Very little fanfare.
A little less adrenaline.
No race posters.
Just me.
My thoughts.
My pace.
My race.
The race that will officially make me a nine-time marathoner.
That’s good enough for me.

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PROMPT: What’s one goal you have for the remainder of 2020?