Although several other members of my running club are here in Chicago, I'm making virtually no effort to hook up with them, not because I don't like them (I do! Hello!), but rather because there's something appealing about being by myself in the days before the marathon. Running a marathon is a lonely experience. I'll be surrounded by literally thousands of people, but whether or not I do well ultimately comes down to what's in my head.
So, here I am in Chicago, essentially alone. Ironically, I find myself looking at everyone else in the airport, in the hotel, and on the streets, wondering if they'd like to talk about the marathon with me. That slim guy in the running shoes, that woman wearing the Nike shirt, I find myself wanting to chat them all up. Hello, fellow marathoner!
As it turns out, one or two of these conversations is really all you need to disabuse yourself of the desire to do it again, at least temporarily. Running a marathon is difficult, but not interesting.
Yet, I've dedicated a whole slew of posts to it. Ah, the joy of conceit.
22.5 hours to go.