I don’t run marathons.

Marathons are steady, secure. Moving at a controlled pace for long periods of time. I haven’t had much luck with that.

Sprinting blindly to a halt is something I’m far more familiar with. Dashing down a pathway, one filled with possibilities, only to be overcome with exhaustion and worry along the way. I don’t have the energy for these ups and downs. What am I even doing this for? What if I’m not happy at the finish line? What if this direction leads to more of nothing? Many claim the pause in steady progression happens when we get foolishly stuck in our own heads. But is that fair to say? If you can’t see a finish line, a clear sign of correct movement, how can you expect to not worry about the next step forward?

Maybe there’s a split in the road. Faced with different choices, regardless of what they are, our running usually comes to a halt. Is this the right way? If I’ve chosen wrong, will I have the energy to correct the direction and continue? The halt doesn’t just come from the presence of choice. The halt comes from the fear or an incorrect direction.

What we know: choices create pauses; breaks in an otherwise fluid progression forward… and we know they happen constantly.

Frustrating, I know.

But interestingly enough it isn’t the presence of options that gets under my skin. Who doesn’t’ like having multiple roads ahead of them? It is the inability to understand the purpose of pathways that infuriates me. Without signs, I fear consequences of navigating down a specific route. Without knowing intention, my sprints will always come to a knee-jerking stop. No one wants to be stuck at a crossroad forever. You start to go mad. Until a road is properly marked and interpreted, being stuck in the mud is only natural.

Sprinting right up to complications is a habit of my own doing. Moving steady is something I have to work on if I ever hope of combatting road obstacles in the future. But navigating different roads without labels and caution signs isn’t fair either. There’s always a preferred path that you feel deep in your gut. But without clarification, one cannot realistically push on without some form of hesitation. No one wants to run out of steam. No one wants to be that last person navigating the course alone.

I don’t run marathons.

I’m either moving too fast, or not at all.