Two more earth rotations until 2016. That means my gym will be packed in a few days with people I don’t recognize and my fridge will be purged of fatty, sugary indulgences.

As a rule, I don’t make new year resolutions because of my OCD personality. The first time I mess up, I will be so guilt-ridden and come down so hard on myself that by January 9th, I will have given up already. (Which was the case in 2007 when I said I would make my bed every day.)

In fact, last year my new year resolution was to NOT make any resolutions.

Guess what? I failed at that one, too.

I almost made it, though. With two days left in 2015, I couldn’t resist the urge, the temptation, the pull, the pressure, the pure need…

Yep, I made a resolution this week… to train wiser in 2016.

What does this mean? Well, to start, it means to be more selective about races. If I had a nickname, it would be Irene “Never-Met-A-Race-I-Didn’t-Like” Tang.

I wanna register for every race I come across! And after thirty-three marathons and about a hundred halves, it’s just so hard to pick a few favorites. Here’s what’s already on tap for 2016:

• Brazen New Year’s Day Half  (5x) – Jan. 1
• Coyote Creek Half (5x) – Jan. 23
• L.A. Marathon (3x) – Feb. 14
• Oakland Marathon (3x) – Mar. 20
• Livermore Half (2x) – Mar. 26
• Big Sur Marathon (1st time) – Apr. 24
• Mountain2Beach Marathon (3x) – May 29
• San Francisco Marathon (8x) – Jul. 31
• Marine Corps Marathon (2x) – Oct. 30

And those are just the registered races!  In my defense, I register almost a year in advance to get the special “loyal runner discounts” or lottery races. I usually wait to register for the smaller local races which means about a dozen or so more in addition to the ones listed.

Therein lies the dilemma. And the need for my 2016 resolution. I don’t need to run more; I need to run wiser.

You see, the problem with running so many races is that you don’t get proper time to RECOVER, BUILD UP, STRENGTHEN, and TAPER for the next race. BUT I LOVE RACING! I’ve run most of those marathons listed an average of three times each (and that’s not even counting C.I.M. 5x, Napa 4x, Nike 4x, Western Pacific 3x, and Carmel Indiana 2x). Have I mentioned I love racing?!

Seriously, each marathon now has such a special place in my heart. It’s hard to give up any of them or let go of a chance at bettering my finish times.

About half way through 2015, I realized I was giving up speed, strength, and potential PR’s as a result of “over racing.” Since I couldn’t imagine giving up any favorite races, I rationalized that I would just run easy paces and hope for the best. I’d even resigned myself to thinking I probably peaked in 2014 anyway.

Funny, cuz when you tell yourself you’ve peaked, you end up living out that statement…  And in more areas than just running.

I’m just gonna say it. Life hasn’t been the same since I quit teaching a year and a half ago. Or since Natalie left for college. Or since Meagan became more independent. Or since both kids stopped needing me.

I feel like in my career and as a mom, I’ve already peaked.

Okay, before this post turns into one long pity rant, I just have to state that admitting all this doesn’t come easy.  However, THAT in itself is part of the process of recovery, build up, and strenthening for “that next race.” It’s also about letting go. And how can you truly let go unless you realize exactly what it is you need to let go? But why is it so crucial to let things go?

Running example:  I have said over and over how I hate speed work. Let’s also add weight training and upper body work to the list. It’s intimidating and out of my comfort zone. I haven’t had great experiences in the past. When ab work leaves you so sore that you cry a little every time you cough or sneeze…yep. Or when your shoulders are so sore you opt for a button down shirt just so you don’t have to lift your arms over your head. But those previous bad experiences are now holding me back from becoming a stronger, faster runner.

I have to let go of the way I’ve been training if I expect my running to improve in 2016.

Life example:  I woke up today hoping to spend the day with Dave and/or Meg. Nat flew back to school on Monday. I made the mistake of scrolling through Facebook first thing this morning and saw everyone’s cool vacation photos. So I thought it would be fun to make a few memories of our own even if it was just hanging out somewhere locally. But Dave rushed off to work and Meg off to her friends’ for an early start to a sleepover/New Year’s party. It crosses my mind a lot lately with Meg submitting college apps that this time next year, I will be an empty-nester. And what am I doing to prepare for the onslaught of emotions that go with it? Especially knowing how I have not handled certain milestones very well.

Sure, I have made milestones look festive and glorious on Facebook (ha, ha). But deep down and when I’m by myself with time to reflect, I’m actually crying. I want it to be like it was before. I want my kids to look up to me. I used to be the Pinterest mom WAY before it was even “a thing.” I never missed a field trip or school event. I made healthy, creative dinners every night. Now I can’t remember the last time we all sat down to a homemade dinner. I want my family to think I’m fun again, laugh at my jokes, and most of all, respect what I do.

I also used to tuck my kids in every night with songs and prayer time. When did that end? Had I known the last time was the last time…

Now I’m  NOT AT ALL saying that nothing good has come of the last few years and woe is me. But maybe this “emotional scrapbook” I compiled in 2015 is preventing me from moving forward. Maybe I don’t want to fully embrace what could be ahead. I didn’t realize until writing this blog post that for the first time in my life, I am not looking forward to the new year. This is the first year Natalie probably won’t come home for summer and the year Meagan leaves for college. And perhaps the most glaring realization is that I am going into 2016 with no real “titles.”

My identity, my self-confidence, my self-worth have been so closely wrapped up in titles. Teacher. Runner. Wife. Mom. Blogger. But what happens when any or all of those change? Or no longer exists?

When I hold on too tightly to anything that defines who I am, that is when I can no longer move forward.

It has been incredibly hard letting go of certain titles and dreams. Not that those are bad or anything. I just need to hold on tighter to the One that never changes.

So, here it is, my 2016 New Year Resolution:

“I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back. So let’s keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us.”  Philippians 3:12-15 MSG

As for that “title” I so desperately think I need, it’s hard to top this one:

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”  2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV

I just ran my 33rd marathon last weekend. The first thing I said to my daughter when she met me at the finish was “That was rough!” She had been waiting for me almost a half hour. At least it had stopped raining.

But despite finishing almost thirty minutes slower than my PR two years ago, I was still content with my finish time.

It was a hard fought race from about mile 16. I told my husband later that it’s totally acceptable to be in agony at mile 24; but at mile 16, when you still have ten more miles…not so much.

A few days ago a running friend asked me how I did at CIM (California International Marathon). I told her it kind of fell apart at the usual places. She gave me that knowing look and said “Doesn’t it always?!” We both know the agony of defeat as your goal pacer passes you after you’ve managed to stay ahead for so much of the race.  She knows my agony from Mountains2Beach 2014 when I missed my goal by three minutes as I let the 4:10 pacer pass me at Mile 24.

Another friend simply stated “But YOU don’t love to go fast; YOU love distance.”

Yes, it’s true that after running over a hundred races of various distances, the marathon is my favorite distance. I now have a special place in my heart – like a library – with chapters written about these 26.2 mile journeys. Each of these chapters have a common theme.

You see, I have never run a marathon in which it didn’t cross my mind to quit at some point.

And if I’m being really honest here, occasionally I’ve also contemplated short cuts. After all, those parts of the course with out-and-backs and no timing mats make it very tempting to hop across and shave possibly miles off of an abysmally long way to go. It’s not even about logging a faster finish time; it’s just about ending prolonged agony.

But no one at the starting line has the mindset of giving up or the intention to cheat. It is when you are at your weakest and most desperate times – mentally and physically – that these two monsters rear their ugly heads.

For years I loved teaching the story of Jacob and Esau to my third grade classes. We had great discussions about parental favoritism, hobbies they share with mom or dad, sibling trickery, and causes of temptation.

“Once when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau came in from the open country, famished. He said to Jacob, ‘Quick, let me have some of that red stew! I’m famished!’ Jacob replied, ‘First sell me your birthright.’  ‘Look, I am about to die,’ Esau said. ‘What good is the birthright to me?’ But Jacob said, ‘Swear to me first.’ So he swore an oath to him, selling his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left. So Esau despised his birthright.” Genesis 25:29-34

*FYI, the birthright was far more than just being the cool oldest son. It was more than just the double inheritance. It was about honor, respect, recognition, privilege, leadership, and authority.

It’s easy to read Biblical stories like Jacob and Esau’s and think “I would never do that!”  WHY would he trade something as precious, significant, life-changing, and eternal as his birthright for a measly bowl of stew?  Third graders saw this issue very matter-of-factly:  “Well, he probably thought he was gonna starve to death, so what good would his birthright be at that point?”

True.

Race spectators, mostly friends and family members, often hold up motivational posters along the course. They range from funny to crass to philosophical. One of my favorites says “Pain is temporary, quitting is forever” along with various versions of it.

During my weakest moments in marathons, I often think about Esau’s desperation decision which cost him literally everything. Those weak moments are when I’m convinced I can’t go another step let alone another mile. Or when I’ve dropped so far back from my goal pace that I rationalize away the whole point of running this race. Or when the finish line just seems like a distant dream.

It is in those moments, God reminds me that giving up that next step, that goal pace, or dream finish is like Esau trading his birthright for a bowl of stew.

It’s being so focused on the current problem, pain, need, emotion, or pressure that the only course of action is to alleviate that discomfort. You can call it compromise or settling for less than best.

It’s trading the temporary for what is lasting.  And what is rightfully mine as God’s precious child. Rightfully mine. What does that look like?  Is that a possession or status or bragging rights? Pure and simple, it’s God’s best for your life when you trust Jesus as your Lord and Savior which cannot be lost or traded away like a birthright.

But in our daily lives, we can compromise what’s best for us with what we think we need more at the moment.

It’s trading God’s best planning, coaching, training, wisdom, discipline, and cheerleading for a result that will leave me wondering, doubting, and filled with regret.

And I’m not just talking about marathons.

Have I ever made Esau decisions outside of marathons? More than I care to admit. Ohhh, that I could have a re-do on SO many financial decisions, parenting fails, ministry opportunities, relationships etc. that were short-changed or short-circuited because I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see past the temporary circumstances.

Over 20 years ago when I was a weight-loss counselor (strangest job I ever had), the daily mantra was “A moment on the lips, forever on the hips!” Funny how that applies to more than just dieting.

And how many times has God inspired and even convicted me of certain things that I need to implement or change, but somehow that passion fizzles as I begin to feel the pain of the commitment.

The good news is that God’s got a whole calendar filled with more races for me to run. He saw me during all those weak moments, and I can just imagine what He was thinking. “C’mon, Irene, we got this!” “Just keep your eyes fixed on Me!” “Shut out those other voices; listen for My voice!”

Because the battle starts in the mind, during races I often say this verse over and over:

“…take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ Jesus.” 2 Corinthians 10:5

Except I also add “take captive every step, every mile, every doubt, every excuse, every ounce of pride.” And believe it or not, THAT gets me to the next mile. And to the next circumstance. And to the next decision. And to the next day. And to the next race.