The Eternal battle with left or right

At a pre-marathon dinner Friday night, a friend who was also running the marathon the next day joked that she had scouted out the decision point on the course. This was the turn off where the marathoners and half-marathoners went in separate directions.

She said at this point, if she chose to continue her marathon, there was no turning back.

When Tiffany and I got to this intersection on Saturday, we staged a mock disagreement - her pleading to continue on the way of the marathon, me begging - please, Tiffany, it's not too late. Let's turn right. Let's take the easy way out.

I was joking, but the reality is, one way or another, this is a very real battle I fight every day. Left or right?

Do I get up and write or not?

Do I get dressed and go to church or just pull up to the screen in my pajamas and watch it online?

Do I go tackle my run today or promise myself I'll do a little extra tomorrow?

Do I call the friend I know I need to check on or just send a quick text saying I'm thinking about you?

There are a lot of things I've already signed up for in life, things I already know that turning right is the wrong direction, yet - I stop at the intersection and debate with myself - which way do I go?

In sound mind, we commit to things we know we want or need to do. But when the day gets long - or the miles start to add up - we allow ourselves the opportunity to re-think what we'd already thought out. We give ourselves permission to believe for a moment that being tired or not feeling up to it is a good reason to reconsider and we throw in the option of a right turn.

I said all along leading up to our marathon, I had not trained nearly enough. But one thing I had practiced many times on the race course this past year was no turning right. And far more than my physical preparation, that practice pulled me through on Saturday.

Listen, there are times in life when we genuinely need to have the conversation - turn left or right? There are times when going right IS the right thing to do. Continuing on when we risk harming ourselves or others is not a good idea.

But too often, that is not the standard I use to reconsider my direction. I unknowingly use is this 'hard' - not is this 'harmful.'

I'm not sure there's anything more habit forming in life than the right turn. Once you give yourself permission to take the easy way out, the easy way out quickly becomes the preferred way out.

I hobbled out of bed this morning to get to this desk to write. Everything hurts. That everything is a reminder I took a left turn Saturday.

It's also a reminder I did NOT take a right turn. Taking the easy way out always comes with a momentary sense of relief. But this feeling of knowing I had the chance to turn right - to cut my race in half - and didn't do it - well that's a great feeling. One that well outlasts momentary.

It's a feeling I'll carry with me to the next intersection, one that will have me much better prepared to say, not today.

No right turn for me.