It’s Going To Work

It’s going to come together. Maybe not today. Maybe not the way you planned. But it will.

I’ve never run a marathon. I’ve thought about it - the long roads, the early mornings, the disciplined version of myself that would emerge somewhere between the first and last mile. I’ve imagined the ache, the rhythm of steps, the war between body and will. But the truth is, I’m already running a different kind of marathon - one that doesn’t end with a medal or a finish line.

And right now, I’m somewhere in the middle - too far from the start to feel the excitement, too far from the end to see the reward. It’s that strange in-between where time stretches, where the work feels heavier than usual, where every step forward feels invisible.

This is the part no one prepares you for.

Everyone loves the beginning - the spark, the thrill of newness. And everyone celebrates the ending - the release, the success.. But the middle is where most people quit, because it’s hard to believe in progress you can’t see.

But this is exactly where everything is built.

Dreams are made in the long, quiet stretches when you keep going even when it feels like nothing’s working. When you start to doubt, when you wonder if any of it matters, and still, somehow, you show up again.

Progress rarely announces itself. Sometimes it hides inside repetition, the same keyboard clicks, the same empty drafts, the same practice runs. It’s hard to notice change while you’re inside of it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

So, keep showing up. Keep doing the work even when no one’s watching. Keep trusting that the dots will connect later, even if you can’t see the pattern now.

What is “it”? You’ll find out. Maybe the project you’re building becomes something else entirely. Maybe it’s not about the final product at all, but about who you became along the way. Goals shift. The work evolves. That’s not failure - that’s growth.

Hold your vision, but don’t hold it hostage. Let it breathe. Let it surprise you.

Because every step you take, even the uncertain ones, are leading somewhere. You’re building muscle in the unseen. You’re learning patience, endurance, grace.

It’s working - maybe quietly, maybe slowly, but it’s working.

You might not realize it until one day you look up, and the distance behind you finally makes sense. You’ll see it then - every late night, every detour, every almost-quit moment, it all mattered. It all brought you here.

So keep moving. Keep creating. Keep walking through the middle.

It’s already working.
You’re already doing it.

See you on the next stair,
Alastair