Let me ask you something. Have you ever woken up at 3 a.m.? Not for a flight. Not because of a bad dream. But rather because you just… wanted to. I did it today. And I’m doing it again tomorrow. Every day this week, actually. Not because I enjoy the sound of early morning silence or feel inspired by the moonlight (or sunshine if you live as far north as me). I’m doing it to reset my sleep schedule so that waking up at 3 a.m. feels natural. Because soon, it needs to be.

On May 18th at exactly 3 a.m., I’ll be starting a 24-hour livestream of myself playing chess from a bar in Stockholm. A full day. No naps. No breaks. No editing. Just me, a chessboard, and an internet connection. It’s called The Chessathon, and if you’ve ever been curious about what happens when chess meets sleep deprivation, this might just be your new favorite thing.

So what is The Chessathon, exactly? It’s my own personal one-day chess marathon that kicks off in the middle of the night at a place called Svarta Hästen. It’s a local chess bar here in Stockholm, and the vibe is perfect. Think candle-lit tables, casual blitz games between strangers, and walls lined with books and wine. That’s where I’ll be stationed, facing off against viewers, randoms online, and whoever happens to walk in the door and wants to throw down over the board.

To keep things legit, I’ll be using a ChessUp 2 board. It’s a smart board that transmits my moves online, so viewers from anywhere in the world can challenge me in real time. The cool part is that I’m still physically moving pieces like any normal game, but all of it is mirrored digitally. I’ll be streaming live on my YouTube channel ZigZagChess and my new Twitch channel, also named zigzagchess. Feel free to pick your platform. I’ll be equally exhausted on both.

Now, you might be wondering, why on earth start at 3 a.m.? The short answer is: opening hours. Svarta Hästen has its own schedule, and I had to work around it. I can only stay until 3 a.m. on Monday, which means the whole thing has to kick off exactly 24 hours earlier, at 3 a.m. on Sunday. Not ideal, but hey, logistics rarely are. Hence the weird sleep training I’ve been doing.

Once the stream begins, it’ll be a mix of everything. I’ll be playing live games against viewers who challenge me through ChessUp. I’ll mix in rapid games against random opponents online to keep the pace up. And once the bar opens and people start filtering in, I’ll also be playing over-the-board games with anyone who’s brave enough to sit down. All of this while trying to stay sharp, hydrated, and at least semi-coherent.

I’ll be talking a lot too. Some of it will be chess commentary, some of it will probably be caffeine-fueled nonsense. If I hit that strange middle-of-the-night second wind, I might start overexplaining why I love the King’s Indian or why I think most openings are just vibes. Who knows. It’s hard to predict what a human brain does after twenty hours without sleep, especially when it’s locked in a constant feedback loop of tactics and time pressure.

So, why do this to myself? Good question. It’s part personal challenge, part community experiment, part ridiculous stunt. I’ve always liked the idea of pushing myself in new ways, and chess is the kind of game that punishes even the smallest lapse in focus. So what happens when the whole point is to stay focused for a full day straight? There’s something oddly poetic about that. It’s also a chance to connect with people from all over the world through a shared obsession. Some of you might be grandmasters in disguise. Some of you might just be night owls with nothing better to do. Either way, I’d love to have you there.

If you want to watch, I’ll be live the entire time on both YouTube and Twitch. If you want to challenge me, you can do that too. I’ll be accepting matches throughout the stream. And if you happen to live in Stockholm or nearby, come by Svarta Hästen. I’ll be the one at the back table with heavy eyelids and a cup of something very strong. Come say hi. Play a game. Or just heckle me gently from a safe distance.

This whole thing is kind of absurd. But that’s what makes it fun. I have no idea how it’s going to go. I might win a few brilliant games. I might get wrecked by a ten-year-old from across the globe. I might say something deeply philosophical at 2 a.m. the next day and not remember it at all. But that’s the point. It’s unpredictable. It’s completely unfiltered. And for some reason, I think it might be beautiful.

So set your reminders. Jump in the chat or stop by in person. The Chessathon is happening. Let’s see what 24 hours of chess, community, and maybe just a little bit of chaos looks like.