The temperature on my thermostat currently reads 73. The air conditioning is set to kick on at 74. Comfortable.

A few days ago I finished reading Reborn on the Run by Catra Corbett aka Dirt Diva (a great, fast read about incredible perseverance). It seems funny that she’s an ultra marathoner since by definition I am also an ultra marathoner, but we couldn’t be more different or miles apart. First off, an ultra marathon is any distance over 26.2 miles. I have run three official 50k’s (31.06 miles) and six endurance runs ranging from 26.96 to 31.32 miles. Add all of my “ultras” together and that might be just one of Catra’s typical race distances.

At the beginning of summer, I saw an Instagram post with a picture of a Catra sitting fully clothed in a sauna – not looking anywhere near as gross as I would – with the caption “heat training.” I hadn’t read her book yet but had seen her several times on the trails with her famous ultra marathoner dachshund keeping stride and not even panting. Up until recently, my definition of heat training was going for a short run in DRY temps over 90. And maybe I’d wear a t-shirt instead of a tank.

I got my own free sauna experience a few weeks ago while running in Indiana. Actually, I didn’t even need to be running. Just stepping off the plane into the passenger tunnel to the terminal was in and of itself a sauna. It had been so hot recently that the airport garage had a giant refrigerated bottled water display with a sign welcoming you to Indy and a free bottle of water.

I had flown out to meet Dave who had already been there a couple of weeks for business and to promote our restaurant’s participation in the city’s food festival and other July 4th activities – like their inaugural 5k race.

The weather forecast for the Spark!Fishers Inaugural 5k was “only” 80 degrees at 8am. Hmmm, that doesn’t sound too bad. What I didn’t realize was 91% humidity makes that 80 feel like almost 100. I’ve run in 100 degree DRY temps in California (which btw isn’t wise) but nothing like stifling Midwest summer humidity. I’m sure I made it worse by dousing myself in sticky bug spray. A quarter mile into the 5k and I was already soaked and questioning all my life decisions leading up to this day. Has anyone ever DNF’d half a mile into a 5k? Would I be the first? Why does everyone else around me look like they’re not suffering as much?

I decided I didn’t want to DNF, pass out on the course, or spend a minute longer than necessary out there, so I picked up the pace. As I made the last turn onto 116th and caught that first glimpse of the finish line, I was no longer a runner. I was a woman on a mission. I was a warrior, conqueror, and survivor. I crossed that finish line with an official time of 30:57 which normally would not be anything I’d brag about, but I was elated. Some poor volunteer placed my medal around my dripping sweaty neck and another one handed me an ice cold bottle of water. As I made my way back to the car, I noticed a few runners who had obviously finished way before me, looked like they hadn’t sweat at all, and were ready to run another 18 minute 5k. I just had to ask “Sooooo, does this feel hotter than normal to you? Or is it just me?” And then I felt the need to explain that I was from Northern California which seemed to impress them only from the standpoint of bewilderment at why I was even out here.

Turns out it wasn’t just me. It was a day of record heat and humidity. We had a full day of outdoor activities after the morning’s 5k, so by the time the 7pm July 4th parade rolled around, I was reduced to a Wicked Witch of the West melted puddle in a corner of our restaurant.

My brain must’ve truly melted cuz I went out for two more runs during my time in Indiana. I felt like I needed to take advantage of this unique heat training opportunity with some big summer races back home coming up.

This thought kept me going during those runs:

“You can’t expect to do in a race what you haven’t done in training.”

There are rarely – okay never – ideal race conditions. If I really wanna make myself crazy, I can hyper focus on all the things that could go wrong or not it my favor. Everything from weather conditions, to injuries, to missing the race shuttle, to loud hotel guests, to unusual pre-race dinners. But those are minor inconveniences compared to the stuff of real, everyday LIFE. The stuff that hits you from out of the blue that completely rocks your world, cranks up the heat, turns your stomach inside out, and throws you off course. How do you prepare for those moments? What sort of training plan can you put in place?

Two days after flying home from Indiana, I ran my eighth consecutive Dirty (Half) Dozen Endurance Run. The goal is to run as many miles as you can during a six hour time limit. The first year I ran it was unusually cold and windy out at Point Pinole Shoreline. The following years were more of the expected July temps. I have no idea if this years temps were actually normal or not if I were to go completely by feel. I even commented to an aid station volunteer “Perfect cool weather today!” He was probably thinking “Poor thing is now delusional.” But my six hours did seem to go by pretty quickly unlike previous years when those hours seemed to drag on as the heat of the day took its toll. When I look back at my splits, they were consistent. I finished with 29.06 miles and a second place age group win.

So, what’s my heat training plan for when things feel like they’re about to heat up in LIFE? Or when all of a sudden it feels like a scorching furnace was just turned up all around me? Even as I am writing this, a couple of situations arose involving finances and my parents’ health. A phone call. A letter in the mail. A text message. A doctor’s visit. Things were heating up around here. Not gonna lie; I went to bed the other night with a horrible outlook, focused on every bad scenario/outcome, and woke up in a not-so-good place.

In between writing this and a doctor’s appointment, I went for a run on a nearby trail that was mostly exposed with very little shade. In that 90 degree heat, I was immediately reminded of the training plan I used during Dirty Dozen. Hydrate, of course, but more importantly “rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”

I read that verse from Psalm 91:1 in a devotion recently, and it gave visual impact to a song on my playlist that has helped me during hill training. I love that first time “Shadow of the Cross” by Crowder came on my iPod Shuffle one very hot day as I approached the first steep, dry, rocky climb on the Upper Rim Trail.  That’s when God gave me some heat training advice. The plan? I simply run as fast as I can to the next shady spot, catch my breath, and walk up the steepest hills.

Sounds hokey, but now I always picture the shadow that those majestic oaks cast on the trail as the shadow of the Cross. And when I get there, I not only find shelter from the scorching sun but also the opportunity to lay my burdens at the foot of the Cross. Some days, it’s quite a load. But being completely covered in that shadow is also such a poignant reminder of what Jesus did for me on the Cross. He laid it all out there for me, took the torturous, relentless heat, suffered unimaginably, all so I could be restored. Restored to THAT time long ago in the cool shade of The Garden before sin happened and you could enjoy running all around Eden not worrying about sunscreen, heat exhaustion, bug bites, hydration, and carbo loading. Or finances and your parent’s health. Restored to just enjoying all He created for our benefit. Restored to a relationship with God, not a religion. Restored to perfect fellowship with God.

The Bible also says Jesus is the Living Water. Sometimes what I’m really thirsting for only God can provide. So there you have it – your own spiritual aid station – and you don’t even need to be running an ultra marathon or leave your couch to reap its benefits.

I may not have immediately responded well to some heated situations this week. In fact, I went to sleep one night still holding on to doubt, fear, anger, entitlement, worry, anxiety, and guilt. So much guilt. I momentarily ditched the training plan. You wanna know the crazy thing? Sometimes I choose to stay on those exposed, dry and scorching parts of the trail when shade and restoration are steps away. In the past I have gone days and even weeks wandering, trudging along remaining set on staying the course of whatever it was that set me off in the first place. Some days God’s life lessons help me run better; this week the stuff God taught me on the run helped me run better in life. I quickly found His restoration – I ran as fast as I could to the shadow of the Cross – instead of holding on pridefully to “being right” or worse – “being wronged,” obsessing over things I shouldn’t, feeling paralyzed by guilt or the weight of situations, and continuing to suffer prolonged “heat exhaustion” as I have in the past.

Those situations I alluded to earlier…those curve balls in life that crank up the heat…yeah, they’re probably gonna get worse before they get better. It might get really hot. Midwest hot. Good thing I’ve done heat training and know where to find shade.