I used to have that Nickelback song “If Today Was Your Last Day” on my run playlist to motivate me to run as if it was. Haven’t heard the song in years, but it came to mind this morning. My last race was the Livermore Half Marathon two weeks ago. Before that was the Napa Valley Marathon exactly one month ago. Both I would consider good solid races. I even managed to negative split at Livermore.

But what if that was my last race?

The thought of “a last race” has NEVER crossed my mind until very recently. Hang on, I have a deep confession I’m about to reveal…

I am struggling with hip pain.

More specifically, possible piriformis syndrome, pinched nerve, or sciatica. Truth is that I can’t even say those nasty words without grimacing. I think it hurts more to admit THAT than the actual physical pain of this dumb hip nerve that is now potentially sidelining some upcoming BIG races.

And when I say BIG, I mean BIG. Like the Oakland Marathon last week which I could have deferred to 2018 but didn’t since I was holding on up until three days before thinking I could still push through it at a slower easy pace. And the Cinderella 100K bike ride I had talked my sister into doing this Saturday. And the Carmel Marathon at the end of this month just for kicks because I’m gonna be in Indiana anyway. But none bigger than the race on April 15th. Which I am still considering despite a painful training run yesterday fully equipped with my brand new hydration vest loaded with plenty of “practice food” for this race that has an 11 hour cut off time. Yep, I’m still hanging on to somehow finishing the Mt. Diablo 50K the day before Easter Sunday. I haven’t told my hip yet that this course has an elevation gain of 8,246 feet.

April was going to be my “QUADfecta” month of races. Clever, right? Two road marathons, a metric century ride, and a quad thrashing trail race. What could go wrong?

A certain Bible passage has been nagging me since my hip issue started:

‘As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”‘ John 9:1-3 NIV

‘Walking down the street, Jesus saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned: this man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?” Jesus said, “You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do.”‘ John 9:1-3 MSG

I love how in the Message version, Jesus says “You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame.” WHY does it matter so much how or why something happened and who or what caused it? Really, if we knew the answer to these questions every single time something bad happened, we could conceivably prevent it from happening again. The converse would be true as well. If we knew why/how all good things happened, we could duplicate them over and over again.

Isn’t this essentially what running is all about – duplicating good results over and over again? And preventing bad ones?

It’s human nature to look for blame as well as cause and effect in situations that are difficult to explain or handle. In my case, I typically blame myself. Whether it’s the common cold, allergies, flu, or my current hip pain, I tend to beat myself up with thoughts like “I should’ve been more careful” or “I could’ve prevented this.”

Rationally speaking, I realize it is ludicrous to think I could possibly be the cause or prevent all my own physical ailments. However, I am THAT mom who opens public door handles with her shirt sleeve, Purells excessively, and sleeps on the couch at the first sign of a sniffle from her husband.

I suppose I should be quite grateful that this recent injury is the first time I’ve been sidelined from running in eight years and almost 200 races. SO WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR ME?

This is also the first time I’ve referred to my hip thing as an injury because in my mind that word means I did something incorrectly – whether accidentally or intentionally. For example, falling twice at last year’s Double DipSea race because I tripped over tree roots was accidental. Lifting boxes full of books last week because I was too impatient to wait for someone to help could be classified as intentional. And then there’s the all out 100-yd sprint race I had no business running but just wanted to prove I could. But this injury seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Okay, okay…age and lots of mileage may have something to do with it.

Alas, I’ve come to that fork in the road and, perhaps, that place where many crucial Bible truths were realized by everyday, common folk like me. STOP FOCUSING ON CIRCUMSTANCES. STOP TRYING TO CONTROL EVERYTHING. STOP ASSIGNING FAULT.

If your thought life were like a playlist and you had to delete all songs focused on negative circumstances, control, and pain, how many songs would be left?

Essentially, God’s plan is to allow Him to delete these songs and replace them with ones that rebuild the broken places, fortify weakened systems, and give sight where darkness previously loomed.

Numerous times in the Bible, God used music and songs in the unlikeliest of circumstances. Leading an army to battle, calming a psychotic king, opening prison gates and loosening shackles… Not the results one normally expects when a song comes on the radio.

Songs really speak to me on and off the race course. My hip injury got so painful recently that I legit thought I’d never run again. The lyrics to the song “Even If” by MercyMe put things in perspective:

They say sometimes you win some
Sometimes you lose some
And right now
Right now I’m losing bad

I’ve stood on this stage
Night after night
Reminding the broken
It’ll be alright
But right now
Oh right now I just can’t

It’s easy to sing
When there’s nothing to bring me down
But what will I say
When I’m held to the flame
Like I am right now

I know You’re able
And I know You can
Save through the fire
With Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone

They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Good thing
A little faith is all I have right now

But God when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Give me the strength
To be able to sing
It is well with my soul

I know the sorrow
I know the hurt
Would all go away
If You’d just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone

You’ve been faithful
You’ve been good
All of my days
Jesus, I will cling to You
Come what may
‘Cause I know You’re able
I know You can

It is well with my soul

I don’t want to come across as overly dramatic in thinking “What if my last race was in fact my last race?” But I suppose there HAS to be a last time for everything, right?

Both kids were home last week for spring break from college. Dave and I are in the process of selling our house and downsizing, so part of the agenda last week was purging our home of decades of stuff. Can I just say that I went through some emotional purging as well? I felt somewhat paralyzed sitting there amidst empty boxes I had just purchased from Home Depot that seemed cruelly beckoning to be filled with countless memories and even some unfinished projects.

With Natalie being a senior and finding her happy place in beautiful San Diego (I mean, who wouldn’t), I had myself a good momma-cry her last night in her room which we had painted lime green and teal ten years ago (colors that are cool when you’re ten). She flew back yesterday to start her last quarter of school. I texted “Have an awesome LAST first Monday of school!” Yeah, I’m also THAT mom who gets sentimental over every last dumb thing.

All this to say, it’s kind of a tough emotional season right now. Some days I can’t stop crying. (Yes, I know I’m THAT age, too.) Is it bad that I think the blind man in the Bible verse got off easy with Jesus just putting some mud and spit on his eyes then he was healed? Oh, but wait. That’s not how it actually went down. Jesus told the man after the whole mud/spit thing to ‘“Go, wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.’ John 9:7

The man had to take action. He had to exercise a great amount of faith especially given the circumstances surrounding him. I’ve never actually pictured this whole scene, but now I’m wondering how he got to the Pool if he was still blind. Did his family or friends help him? They had to have had tremendous faith as well. Jesus could’ve healed him in numerous ways including just saying the word. Why this way?

All the times I’ve been sick or hurt and asked God for healing, I don’t remember ever asking Him what’s my part in the process. Yeah, sometimes I prayed over going to the doctor, procedures, or medicines to take, but I don’t know that I ever thought about what it would actually take on my part to be healed. And the bigger question: What will bring Jesus glory through it all?

This brings me to the last part of that Bible passage articulated two different ways: “But this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (NIV)  “Look instead for what God can do.” (MSG)

God speaks to everyone differently. As a former teacher, it was always inspiring to think that God knew my exact learning style. That’s why running and writing have been instrumental in how God has revealed so much of who He is and has made His very Word quite literally come alive.

THIS is so hard for me to write because I like to post blogs AFTER races and results. And especially AFTER I have successfully come through a trial. I suppose this particular blog post is a first step and my way of going to the Pool with mud and spit still on my eyes. I don’t know when or how my hip thing will be healed. I don’t know if I’ve run my last race. I don’t know when our house will sell and when that last day in our home will be. I don’t know how I’ll feel backing out of our driveway that last time.

I do know that I want to move forward. I want everything to feel good again. I want to not cry every time I walk into Natalie’s empty lime green room. I want to run without pain. I want to cross many more finish lines – in races and in life. I want to be able to say “it is well with my soul.”

I guess I need to go to the pool…

Today. Every day.