What if…?

As I walked the final block to my office building this morning the thought went through my mind, “What if I had walked on the other side of the street?” Could something as insignificant as choosing to walk on one side of the street versus the other have any impact on the big picture in life? Many movies have been made that show the completely different paths that a person’s life could have taken, had they made one decision over another. And if you believe that fate is in control of our destiny then it can be argued that no matter what path you take, what decision you make, the outcome will always be the same.

The question “What if…?” comes up often when people have been involved in accidents or occasions of bad luck; “What if I had left for work 5 minutes earlier?” or “What if I’d gone back to check if the stove was still on?”

I think one of my recurring “What ifs” goes back to my marriage. I was out running the other day and while I run, I think…a lot. I was reflecting on how happy I have been recently. I have someone in my life who supports me without question. When I first began running, around 10 years ago now, my husband at the time begrudgingly accepted it into our lives. But as time wore on, and my first half marathon came and went, and I decided that I wanted to attempt a full, the begrudging acceptance turned into minor resentment. I was told that the long training runs I did were taking away from ‘family time’, even though I scheduled these runs early on Saturday mornings long before the rest of the family were even thinking about waking up. I was made to feel like a selfish person, sacrificing my family for my fitness and my race goals, even though deep inside I knew this not to be the case. The person I was back then was guilted easily. I cut back on runs that I knew I needed so I would be there to make breakfast for the family. Deep down I knew that this was a ploy, but I could not bring myself to do otherwise.

Then I wondered…what if I left…?

I used to think it rude to leave in the middle of a movie, or stop part way through a book – as though you were personally insulting the author by not finishing, so I plodded through plotless books and movies that didn’t interest me beyond the first ten minutes.

But after a period of stagnation I realized that life was too short to be wasted watching movies that no longer interested me, or reading books where the plot sizzled out somewhere around page 237, or remaining a marriage that not only no longer fulfilled me, but saddened me. I was accused of giving up, of not trying hard enough, but when I weighed the cost of the fight, over the benefit of a clear conscience, there was no choice to be made – it was already done – I just didn’t know it.

So I left…Because I could do nothing else.
And maybe it just hit me one day
That I could just get up and walk out…

The funny thing is since I left I’ve sometimes wondered…what if I stayed?