I’ve had more fun the last six races than I’ve had in perhaps the last six years.

Let me preface everything I’m about to say by stating that I’ve had some tremendously God-inspired-hard-core-lessons learned, “come to Jesus” race experiences; but what I’m talking about today is the recent realization that I haven’t allowed myself to actually have fun during alot of my races.

I’m picturing my husband shaking his head reading this as he could never imagine uttering the words “fun” and “running” in the same sentence.  But, I digress.

When I look back at my first blog posts, well, I feel like I took myself way too seriously.  Hold on…I’m not at all trying to discount all the ways God has taught me more about Himself through running.  I just feel like I’ve been missing out on something.  Why do I have to make everything a lesson?  Why have I not stuck to my initial goal of blogging monthly?  Why are my posts so dang long?

I can’t keep blaming the teacher part of me.  Or writer’s block.  Or my need to explain myself.

One of the best things that resulted from this April’s Carmel Marathon was meeting my new friend Julie who is a fellow Christian runner, lime green fanatic, mother of a college age daughter, cancer survivor, and blogger.

Julie has become a huge inspiration to me especially at 3:45 am when she’s headed out to the YMCA to volunteer and swim laps.

With the three hour Indiana time difference, my day has often started with a text from Julie at 3:45 am with a word of encouragement or prayer for my day.

Julie and her friend Laurie are headed to Alaska this weekend to run the Team in Training Anchorage Half Marathon to benefit leukemia and lymphoma patients.  Julie also has a goal to run a race in all fifty states.  She’s already run in San Francisco, but I’m working on convincing her to come out for another race (California’s so big, it should count as two states, right?)

La Jolla Half Marathon was not originally my idea.  For once, I can’t take the credit for dragging others to a race.

Natalie’s swim team buddy, Megan, registered then convinced both of us to do it.  I was flying down for their team awards banquet that weekend anyway, so figured, why not.  Meagan also flew down with me, and it ended up being a good mom-daughters weekend.  The course itself did not disappoint.  I mean, come on, it’s La Jolla!  Turning the corner at mile 5 to see the Pacific Ocean and beach just steps away was quite breath taking.  The climb up to Torrey Pines was also breath taking but for different reasons.  I loved seeing the post-race photos of Megan, Natalie, and I mid-stride with looks of anguish as we trudged our way up this seemingly neverending hill.  (*Don’t let my smile deceive you; over a hundred races has conditioned me to muster any semblance of a smile until passing the photographer.)

But we survived, took our requisite finish line photos, muttered some choice adjectives about that hill climb, and painfully hobbled into the awards banquet in high heels hours later.

Western Pacific has not been my (or anyone I know) favorite marathon course.  The past four years, it’s been perfect timing as a long training run for upcoming marathons.  But it’s the flattest, most unscenic, hot weather marathon.

Misery loves company is the only reason I can come up with for having convinced my friend Lori to run it with me this year.

I cleverly sold her on the idea since it was also perfect timing with our M2B Marathon exactly three weeks out.  The whole week prior to the race, weather forecasts were not encouraging.  (90 degrees… Really?)  We’d text each other multiple times a day as we saw even one degree shifts in the forecast.  And the big dilemna:  what to wear on race day with the heat.  We carpooled to the race together.  Ran parts  of it together.

And could celebrate and commiserate afterward together.

Wildcat Half Marathon holds a special place in my heart since it was this race four years ago that I dedicated to good friend and former principal Jeri Schall.  Her pancreatic cancer diagnosis came as a shock to everyone in our school community.

I remember reaching the Mile 11 hill after several other arduous hills and praying for Jeri’s “climb” which quickly ended just four weeks after her diagnosis.

I usually spend a good deal of any race with my head immersed in prayers or just chatting it up with Jesus.  Depending on the degree of suffering I’m in, the chats often turn into cries of desperation begging for His return to come now.

At last month’s Wildcat race, I also got to chat with some new and old friends along the way.  Thank goodness, because I was still recovering from Western Pacific and their company really helped take my mind off of the hills and my toe blisters.  I looked forward to a big hug from Elena at the start line since it took years to finally meet her after going toe to toe in Brazen age group rankings.   I almost never stop to take photos during races (I don’t even bring my phone).  But this race, I’m glad Candise and I took a nice scenic selfie at the peak.  I met Jennifer at mile 9.  Jen made me laugh as we exchanged teenage daughter drama.  Sorry, Meagan.

Mountains2Beach Marathon ended up being a mother-daughter-sister weekend.   It was also my combined Christmas and birthday presents to Sandy (hotel and half marathon registration).  I mean, c’mon, who wouldn’t want to spend months training then running 13.1 miles for their birthday?  Yes, I see your hand, Dave.

The three of us drove down to Ventura Beach over Memorial weekend.  We also met up with Lori who had run the half last year and suffered through 26.2 miles at Western Pacific with me just three weeks prior.  Actually, Lori rocked WP.  Me, not so much.

So, here we were.  Each with slightly different race goals but all to enjoy a gorgeous weekend and time together.

Even though we didn’t technically run together, when we saw each other post-race at the finish area, it felt like we did.  Exchanging “battle” stories, comparing blisters, relating to pacing struggles and knee pains…  Hard to believe just hours earlier we were fresh-legged and full of anticipation and PR hopes…now just thankful to be done!

TrailQuake Half Marathon, affectionately nicknamed Slugatoga, has become one of my favorite trail race courses.  Before launching into my race recap, I have to say how grateful I am to have discovered this thing called trail racing through an awesome race organization called Brazen Racing.

It is through Brazen that I have run on some of the most picturesque, breathtaking courses in California.

Slugatoga, aptly named for its famed banana slugs and Saratoga location, is a race course almost completely canopied by majestic redwoods.  But where there’s thousands of massive, really old trees, there’s bound to be lots of really hazardous tree roots…and rocks.  This was the adventure for and to which my Brazen friends and I signed up and carpooled.  There truly is nothing like trudging up the first three miles alongside old and new Brazen friends like Mike, Kirstin, Ashwin, Jen, Mickey, Yoly, and Katherine – just to name a few.

Even better is when they’re smokin’ fast and high-fiving me on the turn arounds back!  But the best part is being reunited at the finish area after they’ve cheered me on and then I get to return the favor by cheering others on as they cross the finish line.

I don’t usually stick around to see the last runner finish, but since I had carpooled with Mike, gunning for Brazen Streaker fame and one of the friendliest and most encouraging runners I know, of course, we stayed until the end.  TrailQuake was one of the smallest races I’ve run; but somehow this year’s Slugatoga left the biggest footprint on my running soul.

All this to say, God is teaching me a new way to run the race He has set before me.

Instead of being so PR obsessed, I need to look up from my Garmin every now and then and just enjoy ALL of God’s magnificent creation – especially the human ones.  What made these last six races so fun?  They were each more about the people than the race itself.