No Alarms. No Surprises.

No.
I’ll pass.
Thanks, but no thanks.

If you were planning on inviting me to try that new restaurant, or join you at a new weightlifting class, or taste this delicious new recipe you invented, the answer is no. The marathon is next weekend, and I’m taking no risks. I’m as boring and predictable as possible — even more so this week than usual. Routine is my friend. This is not the time to get an aerial yoga injury or to learn about a previously unknown shellfish allergy.

Nothing new. No alarms. No surprises.

Marathons are the unpredictable. There’s no telling how your body will preform, or how strong your mind will stay, or how the weather will affect you. So we cling to what we know, and control as much as possible. My meals for the week are planned with carbs and proteins I know will settle. My schedule is intentionally low-key. My race outfit has been tried and tested, down to the socks.

It’s impossible to cram for a marathon. The training process takes months, and I’ve done the work. If I’m not strong enough now, one last run won’t save me. All I can do at this point is be smart and do everything possible not to screw it up.

I still have 26.2 miles ahead of me, but I’ve come way too far to risk it now.

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