When we got back from Île d'Orléans, we checked into our second hotel and settled in. We took a short walk down to the port to make sure I knew where the shuttle buses would pick me up the next morning.

The day before a marathon always carries a weird energy for me: a mix of anticipation and dread. I find myself thinking ''This time tomorrow, I'll be...'' and imagining where I will be at in my run. Later in the day, it becomes ''This time tomorrow it will all be over'', which is, if anything, a comfort.

The idea is to take it easy and rest, which goes entirely against the grain of who I am. I did try for a while, and we just hung out in the hotel room (guess who found the comfiest spots) :

But finally, with the mission of buying a bottle of water to carry for the bus ride to the start line and the first few kilometres of the race, I left everybody else in the room and went out for a little walk on my own, and took some pictures along the way. ''Little walk'' became a descent down the ''escalier casse-cou'' (breakneck staircase) to Lower Town. Not really recommended for a marathon eve, but then I've never been one to do things by the book. As it happened, the sun was low in the sky, and I got what I consider to be some of the best images of the city that I took all weekend.

Then it was suddenly bedtime at 9:00 pm, with two alarms set for a 4:15 am wakeup. No turning back now.