We’ve all seen them on the road. Those bright, fluorescent yellow vests worn by construction workers on the side of roads to warn drivers to be extra cautious and to slow down for their safety.

Those bright yellow vests also make their presence known at marathons – only the caution is for runners. Because runners are now the hunted. The prey.  The innocent and helpless. We are about to have our pictures taken at the very pinnacle of our struggle, pain, and peak unattractiveness.

(*The pics below aren’t the TRULY gross ones… But trust me, plenty of horrid pics out there that can’t be posted since they’re copyrighted, and there’s NO WAY I am purchasing them!)

It’s almost cruel that race photographers will set up camp on an uphill climb. I realize that right behind me is probably a million dollar view, however, these photos reveal something quite disturbing. Expressions that I did not know my face could make. Seriously, I can’t even replicate that look in front of a mirror right now if I tried.

But downhill photo shoots aren’t much better either. Sure, my facial expressions might reflect delight and sheer joy during mild descents. If I happen to see the yellow-vested predator ahead, I might even muster up the energy to give a thumbs up or wave as I approach. Somehow on steeper descents gravity and the Nikon predator combine forces and capture versions of me that seem to scream “Please, Lord, don’t let me die on this hill!” Or “I knew I should’ve done more quad strength training!”

And then there are those photos – nice, flat roads, iconic postcard-worthy, cover of Runner’s World magazine potential – from which I can only say gravity and sweat were NOT my friends. I’ll just leave that one there.

Having said all this, there is one bright side. A way to look through the camera lens and see past the fact that I’m never going to be a sports model. Every one of these race photos captures a moment in time. In that millisecond of the shutter opening and closing, a permanent, undeniable image of me has been captured. I can now look frame by frame at my stride, foot placement, arm swing, shoulder and back posture, as well as facial expressions. These photos are now coaching opportunities.

They say if you don’t do it in practice, you won’t do it in a race.

Researchers say on average (men and women combined), one might run 1,700 steps per mile. Of course, MANY factors come in to play. But the point is if I am trying to improve something like – for example – foot placement, I need to consciously practice doing it the right way. If you think about it, if you’re foot landing is incorrect, you are doing it wrong 1,700 times for every mile you run. Multiply that by whatever race distance you are running. I actually don’t ever look at my step count on my Garmin, but for purposes of this blogpost, I did.

My last three marathon step counts:

Big Sur – 49, 256

Oakland – 48,927

Los Angeles – 51,833 (fastest of the three)

I have been a heel striker (landing with too much emphasis on the heel versus mid or forefoot). In my early years of running, I did not realize I was a heel striker. Or that I had a slight tendency to supinate which became evident as I look at how my running shoes wore out (outer edges of the heels showing the most wear). Heel striking also resulted in other issues such as IT band overstretching and knee stress. Over the years, I have tried to correct these issues as well as buy more appropriate shoes. My Hokas are minimal heel-to-toe drop shoes which are designed to encourage more of a forefoot strike when running.

The good news and something I am extremely thankful for is my improvement and lack of injury in recent years. And when I say improvement, I don’t necessarily mean going faster. It used to take me DAYS after a marathon before I could walk somewhat normally and without excruciating pain. Back then I couldn’t even entertain the thought of getting back out for a run for a couple of weeks.

These days, I feel pretty good the day after a marathon. Stairs don’t make me cry…as much. And I’m back out running in a couple of days. In fact, I feel better the quicker I can get back into my regular weekly training mileage. Lately, that’s about 30-32 miles a week. Not super fast. And always some hill training.

Last weekend, I ran one of my fave trail races for the fifth year in a row. The Wildcat half marathon boasts some of the most breathtaking 360 degree views from several of its hill peaks.

photo credit: Jason Lehrbaum

Understandably, it’s a challenge to get a race photographer up to these amazing peaks. Some of the volunteer photographers actually run the race course then post hundreds of free, downloadable pics after the race. One of the awesome perks of running with the most bomb-dot-com fantastic local race organization  – Brazen Racing!

Well, as customary after running with Brazen for years now, I check out the free photos after each race. I confess I’m looking for that one magazine cover worthy shot of me where I look ripped, lots of space between the ground and feet mid-stride, Lululemon-proud attire, and perfect form. BWAHAHAAAAA! I can’t even write this without laughing. Okay, I’ll settle for not tripping, less muffin top, and a look that doesn’t say “I should not have had that burrito last night.”

All my talk about me not heel striking, well, one pic from Wildcat last weekend caught me in the act. Oh well. It’s just one right? That doesn’t mean I’ve regressed and do it all the time now, right?

Funny, I kept thinking about that one photo on my runs this week. Consequently, I made a conscious effort to watch my running form more than usual. After all, old habits can slip back easily.

Then I started thinking about what if there were ways to capture moments in our daily lives that we’ve been working to improve – habits, thought patterns – the stuff that can’t be captured on film or with a selfie.

As I started my new job last month, I realized I’ve not been in the 7am to 4pm work commute routine in a while. My morning pace and rituals have been untimed the past two years. I found myself running just a few minutes behind for everything and couldn’t figure out why until this week. I don’t normally speed when I drive, but found myself running more yellow lights recently and wondering when I’m going to get a not-so-attractive photo of myself in the mail along with a traffic ticket.

On one of my regular runs a couple of days ago, I pondered a lot of this stuff. I was talking to God about these snapshot moments. I was glad that only HE saw me during those really unattractive times and that only HE knew what was really going through my mind. As I continued to run and talk to Jesus about how I wanted to improve in specific areas of my life, I started to see that God has always provided the perfect way to keep me in check. In fact, it is in HIS job description:

“But the Helper will teach you everything and will cause you to remember all that I told you. This Helper is the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name.” John 14:26 NCV

In any given race, the professional race photographers (the ones in the bright yellow vests) might take ten to thirty photos of each runner. I’m always impressed with how quickly they can use bib numbers and timing chips to identify sometimes 30,000+ individual runners AND email notifications within days of the race that these photos are now ready for purchase. The photo companies know that the best chance of selling photos is hitting runners before that runners’ high fades. Especially if it was a great race.

If I purchased every photo from every race I’ve ever run, not only would I be broke, but what exactly would I do with these thousands of pictures of me – most of which are truly unflattering, embarrassing versions of myself at the weakest moments of my life?

The cool thing about God is that He has seen every one of these photos of me… and purchased them. And not to post all over Facebook or put in some Hall of Shame.

And then at opportune times He’ll pull out a few choice photos to encourage me in how to live that moment better next time or to remind me of how the pain of certain moments has made me stronger today.

Natalie and Meagan have “educated me” in how to take better selfies. I didn’t realize there was a right and wrong way.  Ha, ha! If they’re reading this, the selfie would be of them rolling their eyes right now. I don’t carry a mirror in my purse, so I confess that sometimes I’ll put my phone on selfie mode to see if my hair looks okay or if I have food stuck in my teeth.

But God takes the best selfies. If I really think about it, He’s in every single one of mine. The good, the bad, and the ugly. What do I do with all these images? How do I sort through them all? Can I delete the ones that I don’t like?

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” 2 Corinthians 10:5

I’m so thankful that the Holy Spirit not only reminds and encourages me in how to run my next “race” with better form; but He also helps me focus and fix my eyes on the things that will allow me to see His purpose in each snapshot.

When I am running God’s race, I don’t have to worry who sees me, how I look, or if there will be a good photo to show for it. Next race goal:  To see everything through the lens of Jesus.

 

I’ve rarely run a race where I came out saying there’s absolutely nothing I would do differently.

Even races that put new PR’s in the books still left me thinking “I could have hung in there that last mile” or “I didn’t really need that last water stop” or “If it hadn’t been so humid!”

The way runners do math is kind of funny. Dave would argue that I’ve been doing math funny way before I started running. Take rounding as an example. Kids are taught to round numbers up when the digit is five or higher and down when it’s four or lower. So, if I ran 4.8 miles (according to my Garmin), then I could round up and say 5 miles or if I ran 4.2 then I could round down and say 4 miles. Except when someone asks how long is a marathon. NEVER round down. It’s always twenty-six POINT TWO!

Because anyone can run 26 miles; but it takes a special kind of crazy to run that last point two.

Pacing and averages. In the time it takes you to read this blog, a Kenyan would have run a mile already. But for us mere mortals, half a mile. There’s miles when I feel like I’m a Kenyan; but when I look down at my Garmin, I’m actually Fred Flintstone. Some miles, I really am ahead of my goal pace; and others, I’m not. No worries…it should all average out in the end, right?

(*actual mile marker at Big Sur Marathon)

And then there’s the whole business of trying to “run the tangent” of the course so as to cut your total distance (and consequently, time) down as much as possible. Shortest distance between two points is a straight line, right?

I’ve decided that  when it comes to finish times, all math rules go out the window.

My marathon PR of 4:13.03 was run at Mountains2Beach 2014. I haven’t come close to that time since then. It’s crossed my mind that maybe THAT is the fastest I’ll ever finish. It’s also crossed my mind that if I knew THEN what I knew now, maybe I would’ve appreciated that moment more.

But the opposite is true. That was my most disappointing finish.

My goal was 4:10. I had stayed well ahead of the 4:10 pacer until Mile 24. I still remember hearing the pacer’s voice getting closer and closer during Mile 23. Closing in on me. I told myself to hang on and finish strong. That I had come this far. In fact, I had just done a ridiculously dangerous move to keep ahead of the pace group.

At Mile 22, the race course crosses over train tracks. As I was approaching, I heard and then saw an oncoming train. The railroad crossing bar started coming down over the course. There was NO WAY I was going to stop and wait for who-knows-how-long for this train to pass. I literally sped up and ducked under the bar to the other side of the tracks. If my kids told me they had done something like that I would’ve smacked them upside the head and grounded them for six months.

Now the sun was beating down on me and heat was reflecting off the asphalt. The Pacific Ocean was on my right but no cool sea breeze. And that voice was now right behind me. Within seconds, it was next to me. And then it passed me.

In retrospect, I’m fairly certain I could have dug a little deeper and regained my lead. But somehow, mentally, I was done.

And with every subsequent step, my goal slipped farther away in that last mile.

Three minutes slower than my goal.

Close enough, right? After all, if you round down it’s 4:10.

The following year, I returned to run this same race. But this time, my goals were different. Since I had not put in nearly as many training miles or speed work, my goal was to finish under 4:30. And to hold a more consistent pace. And to not have to play limbo with the railroad crossing again. The heat did come in to play those last few miles again, but was not as big of a factor as the previous year. I crossed the finish line in 4:28.

Two minutes faster than my goal.

I was happy with that finish time. Even rounding up.

No regrets.

Two weeks ago, I had the magnificent awe-inspiring experience of running the Big Sur Marathon. Pictures just don’t do this race course justice. Having only driven the course, I knew I was in for the race of a lifetime. Bucket list material indeed.

But I wasn’t in it simply to check off that bucket list. I hadn’t PR’d since that 2014 Mountain2Beach race. Going in to Big Sur, I had adjusted my training to add more hill work. I actually enjoy hills. I really wasn’t worried about the infamous Hurricane Point which begins its ascent before Mile 10 and peaks at Mile 12.

At the carbo load dinner the night before, I accidentally sat at one of the Runner’s  World VIP tables. The legit VIP’s at the table warmly welcomed me, and we all enjoyed hearing about each other’s race “fails” and unique journeys. One of the gals was an editor for Runner’s World and shared about her travels from coast to coast – most recently Boston. Sitting there listening to her I thought “Wow, how do I get YOUR job?!”  I mean really – get paid to travel to scenic locations, motivate runners, run the actual races, then WRITE about them!

Also at the table was a “seasoned” older couple who were Big Sur Marathon board members. The husband had run the race 17 times and was now a course marshal. The wife was not a runner but oversaw transportation.  The husband fondly reminisced of his first Big Sur race. One of the other runners at the table asked him his best advice for tomorrow’s race. He leaned forward and very seriously warned us about the headwinds kicking up seemingly out of nowhere around Mile 6. But not to worry because just as abruptly, the winds disappear before the Mile 10 climb. Good to know. I tucked that advice into my brain and hoped that it would radiate to that part which activates the “fight or flight” response tomorrow… (Sorry, psycho-bio majors; I’m sure that’s not technically how it works. Bear with me; I have point…)

Race morning arrived. It wasn’t as cold as forecasted. I really didn’t even need my mylar blanket. The starting area was a serene campground nestled in the redwoods temporarily transformed into mass porta-potty central. Comedy central as well since apparently race organizers have quite the sense of humor. Each of the dozens of porta-potty doors had signs on them with messages like:

“FREE WI-FI INSIDE,” “IDENTICAL TWIN MARATHONERS ONLY,” “NO READING MATERIAL IN HERE,” and “BRIGHT COLORED CLOTHING ONLY.”

About an hour until race start. I ran into running buddy Mike Beckwith, and we wished each other a good race. I saw him several times along the course which was fun and encouraging. Thanks, Mike! I also bumped into Sue Duncan and Kristen Wong from my local gym, Club Sport. This was Sue’s first marathon! Ah, you never forget your very first marathon. The three of us lined up together in the start corral. We huddled up, and I said a pre-race prayer thanking God for the strength and opportunity to even BE here, for a safe injury free race, and to enjoy His marvelous creation. Oh, and for PR’s! Amen!

National Anthem, starting horn, and we’re off!

Looking back now at my Garmin stats, I’m pleased with my consistent pace especially given THE GALE FORCE WINDS from Miles 6 to 22! No joke. I was almost blown off my feet a few times and even took my visor off after Mile 11 since I saw so many runners losing theirs. Didn’t want to risk losing my favorite lime green CIM visor plus keeping it on my head was actually more taxing with the wind.

So, back to that little warning I tucked away from the 17 year race veteran…

THIS is where “fight or flight” kicked in. I was expecting and had prepared for the hills. But NOT those headwinds! It felt like a giant hand was pushing me from the front for miles and miles. Well, fight response won, and I fought harder for the duration of this marathon more than I ever have in my previous 35 marathons.

God’s timing in recent months has been quite amazing and literally life changing.

From stuff like my accepting a wonderful new job back in Christian education and Meagan’s college decision process (GO BEARS!) to leading a Run Club devotional and emceeing their final race last weekend, my perspective of perseverance has been impacted. Like GALE FORCE WINDS impacted.

Run Club’s theme this year was “Fight the Good Fight” based on 1 Timothy 6:12.

“Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

Every week my good friend Kai Warner (run club leader and marathoner) creatively inspired elementary school kids on how to fight the good fight of faith ON and OFF the race course. Making good choices, fueling up each day on God’s Word, encouraging your friends, and asking Jesus to help us persevere when we feel like giving up… These were all themes she touched upon.

I had the privilege of leading the devotional the week before our final race and praying for each runner. I wanted to reinforce all that Kai had shared the previous six months. We did a team activity with each word of the theme verse written on separate pieces of paper scrambled. Teams had a time limit on putting as many words in proper order as possible. Well, since God knows I am a visual learner, I think this activity helped ME more than it did the kids. (Mass hysteria when you try to get over sixty 5 to 11 year olds working together to solve one puzzle…ha, ha!)

Sometimes it takes a few times for a lesson to sink in or hit home. Those few times might happen over the course of a few weeks, months, and maybe even years. The fact that my blog site is based on Hebrews 12:1 “Running God’s Race” you would think I’ve learned what that means by now. And the fact that I’ve heard the Run Club theme “Fight the Good Fight” dozens of times you would think I had applied it to my own life effectively by now.

Well, the good news is that God never intended for His Word to be taken as some sort of semester long class with a graded final at the end. It is indeed a lifelong course. A journey which some days feels like a puzzle in which we’re holding a bunch of random pieces. And some days we’re facing gale force winds head on.

As I hugged some of our youngest runners after the awards ceremony last Saturday as well as parents I have known from being their child’s teacher, it dawned on me that this chapter of my life was drawing to a close. It has been incredibly hard to let go of my time at Valley Christian Elementary. God allowed me to do it in a way that was true closure and joy. Cheering kids on. At a race.

So, despite 25 mph headwinds, nearly being blown into the Pacific Ocean, and not coming anywhere close to a PR, I can confidently say that Big Sur is now the race I am most proud. NO REGRETS. Nothing I would do differently. And SO much more that’s just between Jesus and me. Let’s just say many pieces of the puzzle came together for me during this hard fought race – from start to finish.

Oh, and He did give me the theme for this next chapter in my life: “God’s race; God’s pace.”

Stay tuned…