While I'm definitely still a novice at golf, the one rule cemented into my brain is to play the ball as it lies. You know the drill, no matter how poorly you hit the ball or whether it's the slice from hell, you have to hit from where it landed, water features being the notable exception. Then you take the penalty and curse Poseidon for stealing your ball.

For those of you worried about black cats and ladders, of course it's Rule 13 that covers playing it as it lies. There's a bunch of what I would term "sub-rules" or sections to the rule, in fact it really started to seem overly complicated, like the lawyers or the beer, or the lawyers and the beer got involved.

I'm sure all involved for good reason. We need rules, right? Order? Understanding? Clarity? 

Joey and I came across a random golf ball on our run last Saturday. Since it was a good two and a half miles from the nearest golf course, I caught a giggle when I thought, "Well, play that f*cker as it lies." But it also got me thinking about how often life is about playing it where it lies. 

We were about a third of a way into our last long run of our taper in training for the LA Marathon. The race is this Sunday, so we were just over a week out at that point. I always get excited and a little nervous in the last couple weeks before a marathon. My heart knows I can finish, but my brain likes the reminder: You did the work. You have done this before. Quit overthinking everything. Play the ball as it lies.

Eight days out, I certainly wasn't going to make any big changes. I thought about switching up shoes, but at the end of the day, I'm sticking with the ones I cranked out the 18, 19, and 20 milers in. I'm gonna eat oatmeal again before the race. I'm gonna pack gummies. I'm gonna think of my Best Brownhead Bitches, Alli and Joey, and do my, "I'm a Brownhead, I can do this," mantra when it gets tough. I'm gonna meet my favorite guy at the finish line. 

I've done the work. I've done this before. I'll play the ball as it lies.