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“Did you get any sleep last night?” Paige asks when she opens my hotel room door. Who gave her a copy of my room key?

I throw a pillow at her but she catches it easily, laughing it off like I wasn’t trying to seriously injure her. Her fiancé is also not a morning person so she’s probably used to it by now.

I’m half dressed, and thanks to last night’s nerves, all I can feel is the churning of my stomach. Paige sets down a small jar of peanut butter and two slices of bread, slabbing the thick spread on.

She hands me one and takes the other for herself, happily munching away as she flops on my bed.

Does she not see how distraught I am?

I don’t think I can do this. No, scratch that—I can’t. I can’t do it. How the hell can I run thirteen miles? Twenty-one kilometres? I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud because Paige would have corrected me on both distances.

Thirteen point one miles, twenty-one point one kilometres .

I watch myself in the mirror as I braid my hair back, my puffy eyes and red flushed cheeks evident in the harsh hotel vanity light. Paige eyes me in the reflection, stopping mid-chew to frown.

She takes her time swallowing and then comes to wrap her arms around me from behind.

“You can do this,” she whispers.

Her arms tighten, and I let my little sister comfort me. My skin itches, uncomfortable with the role reversal, but I let her. I let her be my rock instead of the other way around. Am I too heavy for her to bear?

Six months ago, I would’ve said yes, but we’ve had long and open chats during our training for this race, and I don’t think I am anymore.

I know I’m not.

“I’m scared,” I whisper back.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to run with you and Julien?” I don’t know if I love or hate her assuming he and I are running together. I mean, I’m also assuming because it’s not like we’ve talked about it.

I shake my head. “No, you have to beat Adam.”

Her eyes narrow. “I cannot believe he faked an injury to beat me in New York. Such a cheater.” She shakes her head and looks back at me in the mirror. “Are you sure? I don’t mind at all. I still won Moab, so in my book I’m always going to be the winner.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy it. I’d be worried about ruining your race. ”

She sighs, exasperated with me. But she doesn’t argue. We’ve had this conversation a few times before, and every time she insists it would be fun to run together, I shut her down. Maybe one day, but not yet. I need to do this one alone. Or at least, as alone as I can be with Julien beside me.

“Have I ever told you about my first half marathon?” she asks, batting my hands away to finish my braids herself. If I was uncomfortable before, this is downright unpleasant.

She shouldn’t be taking care of me.

I let her anyway.

“No, I don’t think so.” I wrack my brain, but Paige has been running for so long, it’s hard to keep track.

“I didn’t tell you I was doing it,” she says sheepishly.

“What?” I try to turn but wince as my hair snags, forcing me to face forward.

Paige nods, a small smile on her lips. “I was eighteen, and you were away for the weekend for the first time.”

Thinking back, I still feel guilty, as sick to my stomach as I feel right now. Even though Mom was close by and could stop by if Paige needed anything, I hated thinking I wouldn’t be there for her if something happened. Especially because when I got home, I discovered Paige had been sick. She barely left her bed for two days after. I should’ve been there.

“You left the car for emergencies but told me under no circumstance was I allowed to do anything crazy.” She laughs, her eyes far away .

I join her in the memory, realizing I may have been a little unbearably protective of her over the years.

The biggest risk I took was kicking her out of our house and sending her off to Vancouver. Best decision I ever made, even though it tore me up inside.

“As soon as you left, I immediately started searching for something crazy to do. With you and Mom always breathing down my neck, it was my first chance to be a little reckless. So I searched for a half marathon on the Friday and found a race happening on Sunday.

“I couldn’t sign up because they don’t let you register that late, but I grabbed my shoes and went anyway, hoping they’d allow for a morning-of sign up. They did, and before I knew it, I was at the starting line.”

“WHAT?”

Paige grimaces at my outburst. Now that I know what it takes to train for a half marathon, I cannot believe she would be that reckless. Actually, scratch that. I can one hundred percent believe it. I could never imagine myself doing that.

“I couldn’t believe it. All the nerves caught up with me, and mixed with the adrenaline, it was too much. I barely made it to the bushes before throwing up. But I was determined to do it. I want to say it was the biggest mistake of my life, but we both know that’s not true.”

We laugh at her reference to her putting Adam’s number in her phone wrong, leading to a two-year delay in their relationship.

“It was the worst race of my life. I was shaking and weak by the end of it because I was way overconfident my sprinting abilities would transfer. They did not. I was such an idiot. I flew through the first 5k and then crashed and burned the rest of the race. I practically crawled over the finish line. The medics on standby rushed to me as I stumbled through, collapsing as I finished. It took me three hours.”

I blink rapidly, in shock. She never told me this. And my elite athlete sister running a slow half marathon? I never would have guessed. She must see my thoughts plainly on my face because she laughs.

“That’s why I’m so obsessed with fuelling and training properly. I never want to feel that way after a race again, not when I can prevent it. You came home and found me in bed, with a fever. My body was in shock.”

“I remember.” I can’t help it—my eyebrows raise to chide her slightly.

“Oh, put your sassy eyebrows down.” The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles and finishes up the second braid. Her hands fall gently on my shoulders, comforting me.

“You, my favourite big sister, are not an idiot or irresponsibly reckless. You’ve trained and prepared for this. Your body is ready and knows what to do. Your mind is the thing holding you back.”

She gives me another squeeze and then leaves me to get ready herself. I nibble on the peanut butter bread, her story blanketing my nerves, giving me something to think about.

Julien’s words float to the surface.

Running is a mental sport .

I have survived so much in my life. The deaths of both my parents. Fighting my way through a competitive program. Ian. Raising Levi on my own. Almost dying in the car accident.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs. I hold it for a few seconds and then slowly release it. The buzzing in my head has quieted.

I’m still nervous. That’s natural, I think. But I’m not going to let it stop me from doing this.

Julien hasn’t spoken to me all morning. Even though we’re standing side by side at the starting line. He keeps shooting glances my way but quickly averts his gaze when I catch him.

I can’t stop staring at him either.

He’s so beautiful. The sharp planes of his face glow against the desert. It was a shock to see him clean-shaven this morning, no trace of beard remaining. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s stunning either way, but he’s a little more vulnerable without the dark hair hiding half his face.

At my wide eyes, Adam and Mateo start giggling like naughty schoolchildren before I can even form the question.

“He lost a bet,” Adam explains with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Must’ve been some bet,” I retort.

“It was.” Adam looks positively pleased with himself as he whacks Julien on the back. Paige winks from his other side, obviously in on whatever this little bet was .

Julien definitely avoids me this time.

Our party of nine takes up a lot of space in our corral, stretching and laughing. Isabel stands on the sidelines, sign in hand as she cheers us on.

Her sign reads “You are NOT almost there!” People around us are getting a kick out of it. I have to hand it to her, she knows who she is and seems fine being the lone spectator instead of caving to the pressure of the group.

My nerves are back, but I’m also feeling something else I wasn’t expecting.

Excitement.

I bounce on the balls of my feet, watching the large digital clock slowly move second by second towards the start of the race. It can’t come fast enough—I want to start and then I want to finish. Sweat rolls down my back already.

The heat hasn’t begun to creep up yet, but I know it’s coming. We’ve all prepared for it. We’re even farther south than where Paige and I used to live in Utah.

But we grew up with the desert under our feet and the sun glaring down on us. And while I’ve never run in the heat for an extended period of time, I know how to handle it. All the electrolytes and all the water.

This isn’t a massive race, with about five hundred participants, but funnelling them across the first mat to start our chip times takes a while.

“Use your energy for stretching out,” Julien’s voice calls from behind me .

I’ve been bouncing on my feet again. He’s right, so I stop and take deep breaths, my heart hammering as it moves into my throat. I know that’s not physically possible, but that’s how it feels. I rotate my legs and swing them back and forth the way I’ve seen runners do in videos. My calves already feel tight, and I’m tempted to ask Julien to massage them for me.

His hand lands on my lower back and I turn to look at him. He holds my gaze for the first time this morning.

I don’t let myself overthink. I reach up and stroke his smooth face. His eyes close briefly, but the moment breaks too soon as the people around us begin to move. It’s time.

“Ready?” Julien asks.

No. I don’t know. “Yes.”

He smiles, just a bit. “You can do this.”

I can. I can do this.

Hopefully.