Another year. Another birthday. Last year was a significant one. The Big Five-O. Actually, it was my best birthday yet.

I haven’t always enjoyed my birthdays. I’d always felt bad – even guilty – for friends and family trying to celebrate me. Trying to find a gift that I wouldn’t want to return and a card with a sentiment that reflected my personality. Or planning a memorable, enjoyable event or some sort. So much pressure, right?

If I was lying on a psychiatrist’s couch right now relaying earliest memories of birthdays, it would certainly all go back to my fifth birthday party. The one that started it all that never really happened. The one where my mom invited five of my neighborhood friends but only bought the five-pack of party hats so guess who didn’t get one? The one when it came time for gifts, my mom gave them all back to my guests. The one with the black and white photo of me crying at the small wooden table surrounded by five little girls in party hats. In retrospect, I feel bad for my mom in all of this since at the time our family had few friends, no money, was living in graduate student housing, spoke very little English, and culturally speaking had no clue about American birthday protocol.

It did take years for me to realize why I always felt like it was wrong to be celebrated and the center of attention.

My poor husband. On my thirtieth birthday, he tried to plan a surprise dinner with both sides of the family. He was successful in that I was definitely surprised. I showed up at the restaurant with a toddler and infant in tow as well as me wearing sweats covered in baby formula/spit up/poop, no make-up, no shower, and hair pulled up in a pony tail. Neither child had napped and were grumpy the entire evening.

By my fortieth, Dave was probably fed up with me whining about my birthday. Whining because I didn’t want to do anything to celebrate.

Since I started running in my forties, birthdays have evolved – or rather – revolved around races. I think it was 2013 when I first told friends I was running the Rocky Ridge ultra half marathon on my birthday that year and most of the responses were like “Really?” “Why?” “How is that fun?”

I kicked up the birthday “fun” several notches in 2014 when I ran the Marine Corps Marathon in D.C. on my birthday thanks to leap year.

The Big Five-O last year was the first birthday I think I truly let go and embraced my special day as that – a day to celebrate me. Sounds rather self-indulgent and egotistical when I say it that way. However, over the years – and through much prayer on Dave’s part – I’ve learned that God intended it that way. Not the self-indulgent, egotistical part. The celebrate me part. It’s really an opportunity to celebrate the life He created and continues to faithfully bless and protect year after year. And an opportunity for friends and family to celebrate with me.

I mean I think I’ve known this intellectually for years, but it took turning fifty to let it truly sink in.

I started writing this post two days ago. Yesterday was my 51st birthday. It fell on a Thursday, so no races. Not a significant one like Sweet 16, 18, 21, or the decade markers. But in true runner’s fashion, I had to go on a birthday run. Of course, I headed out to my Happy Place at the Lafayette Reservoir. It was on the warm side but gorgeous nonetheless. I invited one person to my birthday run. Just Jesus.

I was so excited to get the party started that I forgot to start my Garmin until mile one. I wanted to do something crazy and run four Upper Rim Trail loops – something I’d never done before. I’d done three loops a few times but never four. That would be 20 miles of hills, so of course I wanted my Garmin to commemorate the day. I’d have to back track later on to make up for starting my watch late. It’s okay – nothing was gonna ruin my plans! Birthday tunes in the form of my favorite rockin’ worship songs kicked off the celebration. A few miles later, I was so immersed in running, singing, praying…and crying. As I reflected on the past year, it brought me to tears recounting God’s faithfulness. On one of the hill climbs, Jesus and I had the best birthday cake in the form of Psalm 34:8.

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!” NKJV

And since it’s my birthday run, this version of the same verse:

“Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see— how good God is. Blessed are you who RUN to him.” MSG

And then the Holy Spirit brought people to mind to pray for in hopes that they, too, could TASTE and SEE how good it is to “run” with Him. And this also brought me to tears…like my heart actually hurt (partially from the steep climb) longing for loved ones to know God the way I know Him.

After that, the spotlight changed. It was no longer MY birthday party. It was Jesus’. I spent the rest of the run showering Him with gifts of praise. No Hallmark cards. Just little ol’ me lifting up my hands, joined with majestic oaks, beautiful wispy clouds, much needed breezes, and a glistening reservoir all worshiping our Creator.

Around mile ten, I was thinking “Hey, it’s not as hot today as I thought it would be.” I spoke too soon. I had brought plenty of party food – GU gels and a Clif bar – and had indulged heavily in the beverage of choice – cool, sweet water from the drinking fountains. But my legs were feeling heavy. “NOOOOO, I’m only half way through this party!” Determined, I started my third loop up the Rim Trail. Those same hills I had charged up a few hours ago seemed much steeper now. I had to slow way down.

What’s the deal here?! I had just run three loops on this same trail last Friday – no problem! I managed to forget that it was probably thirty degrees cooler that day. As I trudged along, I heard Jesus reminding me that this was His party. And that He planned it for my own good. And since this was Day One of my 51st year, that I should pace myself.

So Jesus and I finished three solid loops and fifteen hilly, warm miles together yesterday. I feel pretty good today. No hangover, no regrettable party behavior. I think this year is off to a good start.

I arrived at Chicago Midway exactly one week ago. The last time I flew into this airport, over twenty people with the last name Tang were also here. A warm July weekend for our cousin’s wedding. With less than a month before the San Francisco Marathon, my first thought was “Where can I get in a long run?” Lakefront Trail said the hotel concierge as well as my cousin Elaine, a veteran of the Chicago marathon.

While the rest of the Tangs shopped the Magnificent Mile, I was determined to get in my own magnificent miles. I soon discovered Lake Michigan is really an ocean. Breathtaking. No, literally. I couldn’t breathe. The humidity in July was stifling. But I remember thinking it must only be me since all the other runners on Lakefront didn’t seem to be struggling. A sticky sheen of sweat quickly covered my entire body. I was sludging through each and every step.  Lungs gasping. How do people run here? Why would anyone live here? After all, the “livability” of a city can only be judged by its “runability.”

Fast forward six years later…

THIS IS THE BEST CITY. EVER.

“I can’t wait to come back!” The River Walk, bridges, views, hotel, restaurants, museum, weather… Oh, and THE MARATHON!

From the moment I stepped out of the Orange Line train, headed down the station stairs luggage in hand, landed on the corner of State Street, and saw the illuminated Chicago Theatre marquis just a few feet away, my adrenaline level soared and continued to escalate for the next few days.

You can read all about the Chicago Marathon’s numbers and history of growth, study the course map and starting corral logistics, and look at countless race day photos. But until you are actually standing there at Buckingham Fountain two hours before race start surrounded by the electricity generated by 40,000 runners, volunteers, security, photographers, Chicago skyline, porta potties, and course announcer counting down the minutes to your wave start, you simply cannot fathom the magnitude of this race.

I had my iPod loaded with my favorite pump up jam with me but didn’t use it until much later since the spectator cheering was so loud and inspiring. I thought “I’ll turn on the tunes once the crowds diminish.” They never did. Block after block, mile after mile, this high-spirited Chicago crowd never let up. Neither did the endless lines of volunteers at all twenty aid stations. And the security…

Can I just take a brief moment to address the fact that this major world marathon took place one week after the tragic Las Vegas shooting? My last blog post titled “What Am I Afraid Of?” was written days after. I didn’t mention the shooting or related fears at all. But on the morning of the race, I suddenly became very aware of the tall buildings surrounding me that I had been admiring in iconic race photos for months. A pre-race email from race organizers assured runners that every precaution and measure was being taken to ensure the safety of everyone involved. However, once I stepped through the metal detector leading into the runners’ village, my thoughts took off faster than Galen Rupp and Jordan Hasay, the American winners.

These thoughts weaved in and out of my mind for miles, and then it occurred to me that I really needed to stop this reckless train of thinking before it robbed me of the JOY of an incredible race experience. I’ve relied heavily on God’s Word in the past to get me through some physically tough spots in races, but that day I needed it mentally more than ever.

“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 NIV

What do I know as fact about God? That He has been faithful to me, to my family, to my friends, to my country. That He keeps His promises. That His love is unconditional. That He has healed me. That He will never leave me. That He provides all that I need. That He hears all my cries and has held all my tears. That He shields and protects. That He is good. All the time.

The enemy’s strategy is to take my mind off of those facts. And sometimes it works. But then a song came on my iPod shuffle (yeah, it got a little warm after about ten miles so I got out the tunes). A song reminding me that Jesus is fierce. Some days I rely more on the Jesus, Lamb of God, side. Today it was time for Jesus, Lion of Judah.

“No weapon formed against Him will prosper.” Isaiah 54:17 NKJV

I spent the rest of the race truly enjoying each mile, each step, each crazy spectator, each water hose mist, each patch of shade, and whatever God provided to reinforce the fact that this race is His.

And if He has made sure every detail of my race is covered, how can I not be overwhelmed by that?

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4 NLT

For sure, I delight in Him; but does He delight in me? Am I running in such a way that pleases Him? Am I going a pace that is too far behind or in front of Him? Am I remembering what He coached me on during training? Am I allowing heat or other circumstances to take my eyes off of the eternal prize?

Speaking of heat and delight, God must’ve had Himself a good laugh at mile 22. First off, kudos to Chicago Marathon for having the most aid stations and volunteers I’ve ever seen. City blocks of tables stacked high with Gatorade and water cups along with smiling young volunteers to personally hand them to you. But when I approached the mile 22 station, I noticed a runner taking an empty cup from a pile of empty ones on the ground. Then another runner took the gallon container of water from a volunteer and drank directly from it. I thought “Wow, did they run out of cups?” It was quite warm by this point in the race, and I had just gulped down a GU gel; so I definitely needed some water. So I, too, grabbed the gallon jug from the volunteer and took some hearty chugs straight from the container then handed it back to her. I’ve never seen or done this at a race. I hope the runners after me don’t mind my germs. Can’t believe a major race like this could run out of water. Then probably twenty feet or less later, I saw it. The actual aid station. Both sides of the street lined with volunteers and tables of cold, refreshing FULL water cups. What did I just drink from? Who was the gal that I grabbed the container from? I guess I’ll never know.

I started out the race not using using my iPod. I don’t know that I actually “need” or depend on music to get me through a marathon. I feel like sometimes music adds to a race like properly placed adverbs and punctuation in a story. My finish line song ended up being the Imagine Dragons song “Whatever It Takes.” I have made it my personal goal to interpret any song I run to through the ears of God and how He might use it to propel my next step. I downloaded this song onto my iPod shuffle with the amusing thought that it would be really cool if this came on at Mile 25. Guess what? It sure did.

Chorus:
Whatever it takes
‘Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do whatever it takes
‘Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains
Whatever it takes
You take me to the top
I’m ready for whatever it takes
‘Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do what it takes

I was on the verge of tears of joy on several occasions last weekend. Of course, crossing the finish line of my 43rd marathon. Did I mention that Buckingham Fountain and the start line brought me to tears? And then there was the two mile walk back to the hotel from the finish line that brought on a whole different set of tears. Self-inflicted since I didn’t want to take the shuttle. But so glad I didn’t because I would have missed out on running into a Bay Area friend on the walk back. Hundreds of thousands of runners and spectators, and I happen to spot my friend Elena.

When I finally got back to the hotel, it turns out that Dave was out on the course trying to cheer me on but couldn’t find me. GPS does not like tall concrete buildings, so not surprised that my timing device on my race bib intermittently flipped out and he couldn’t track me. I was really touched that he went to all that effort to try to find me.

I had been on a weather watch two weeks before race day. The forecast was everything from thunderstorms and humidity to high temps. It ended up being picture perfect. In fact, it wasn’t until Dave and I boarded the train back to Midway, that it started pouring down rain.

To say that the Chicago Marathon did not disappoint is quite an understatement. But even more so, experiencing God’s provision, protection, and presence from start to finish. His fingerprints all over every aspect of my four days in the Windy City – which was windy exactly when I needed it to be.

 

Many Bible verses and devotional themes focus on strength, courage, and fear. Strength and its derivatives appear in God’s Word over 360 times, courage over 30 times, and fear 365 times.

Last week I read from a daily devotional titled “Reckless Abandon.” The author (my friend Pastor Ray Noah) quoted the famous World War I pilot, Captain Eddie Rickenbacker: “Courage is doing what you’re afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you’re scared.” As I read on I developed a sinking feeling like that of eating a heavy meal too fast and too close to a run. This can’t be good. If I kept reading, it could lead to something heavy and dig deep into my soul when all I really wanted was a little dose of spiritual wisdom with my customary morning cup of coffee and toast. But part of me was curious.

After I finished reading, I realized that I frequently offer several of those “be strong and courageous” verses to friends going through challenging circumstances or seasons. I’ve even made it my starting line verse at a couple of marathons like the monsoon of CIM (California International Marathon) 2012. But during those times, was I actually fearing something? In the example of CIM 2012, did I fear for my safety, potential injury, or not meeting my goal time? In retrospect, the answers were no, no, and yes.

I suppose any challenging endeavor undertaken in less than ideal conditions requires strength and courage; however, when I look back now, I wasn’t being completely honest with myself. When I say “Lord, help me to be strong and courageous,” what am I actually asking Him to do? Or reveal?

Honesty takes courage. More than just looking in the mirror or an unfiltered photo of myself. It goes way beyond wrinkles, sunspots, gray hair, or muffin top (if you don’t know what that is, you don’t have one). I think I have to come to grips with the fact that I judge myself far deeper and harsher than anyone else could. Outward honesty doesn’t come easy. And sometimes it comes with a price. It may cost you your reputation, relationships, trust, and pride. The flip side is that those could also be the reward in the long run.

Much research has been done and articles written on the topic of fear. I’m not referring to the top ten lists of phobias including fear of spiders, flying, and public speaking. I’m talking about the stuff that might keep you from reaching goals, promotions, successful relationships, or some days just getting out of bed. I googled “most common fears” and results were mostly about phobias except for this one titled “12 Most Common Fears Holding You Back From Success” from workitdaily.com:

1. Fear Of Failure
This type of fear has its roots in the misconception that everything you do has to be 100% successful.
2. Fear Of Success
This type of fear is based on the idea that success is likely to mean more responsibility and attention, coupled with pressure to continue to perform at a high level.
3. Fear Of Being Judged
This type of fear comes from the need for approval that most people develop in childhood.
4. Fear Of Emotional Pain
This type of fear is rooted in wanting to avoid potential negative consequences of your actions.
5. Fear Of Embarrassment
This type of fear is a result of empowering others to judge you when you demonstrate that you’re only human by making mistakes and having lapses of judgment.
6. Fear Of Being Abandoned Or Being Alone
This type of fear is related to rejection and low self-esteem.
7. Fear Of Rejection
This type of fear comes from personalizing what others do and say.
8. Fear Of Expressing Your True Feelings
This type of fear holds you back from engaging in open, honest dialogue with the people in your life.
9. Fear Of Intimacy
This type of fear manifests itself by an unwillingness to let others get too close, less they discover the “real you.”
10. Fear Of The Unknown
This type of fear manifests itself as needless worry about all of the bad things that could happen if you decide to make a change in your life.
11. Fear Of Loss
This type of fear is related to the potential pain associated with no longer having something or someone of emotional significance to you.
12. Fear Of Death
The ultimate fear of the unknown. What will happen once our spirits leave our bodies?

Perhaps a runner’s top 12 list might look slightly different. I know at least one runner friend who would list fear of porta-potties as her #1 (and #2). See what I did there?

I would probably add fear of physical pain to this list. Not the kind in which you’re running with an injury or running causes an injury. I mean pain from going all out, lungs bursting type of physical pain.

For years I’ve kept a very simple running log through an app on my phone which now seems archaic compared to what’s currently available. But it’s all I need, so why switch? One thing I like about this app is that at the end of each recorded activity, it asks “Effort Level: 0 to 10.” I recently read an article in a running magazine that totally changed my perspective on how to assess effort. It had everything to do with pain and discomfort tolerance. How much discomfort did you allow yourself to experience during that run? How long can you keep up that level of discomfort?

Since reading that article, I now ask myself that last question whenever I get to a point in my runs where I think about slowing down or stopping. Can I go even faster until that tree up ahead? Can I keep a solid pace up the next big hill? How badly do I want to crush this run? What will it take for me to say “I left it all out there today?”

Over the years, God has been coaching me on closing the gap between training mentality versus race mentality. It doesn’t take a running expert to know that you need to practice what you want to actually happen on race day. But of course, that’s easier said than run.

This summer I went into a particular trail race not expecting to place top three for an age group medal. A friend of mine had fallen in this same race – which she placed 2nd in her age group – a couple of years ago sustaining an injury that sidelined her for many months. My goal was simply to not injure myself. I ended up running a solid race almost matching a previous best time from six years ago. Later when I looked at official results, I saw that I was only 0.10 behind the gal who placed second in my age group. This really bothered me and took some of the joy I had just moments earlier. Why? Because I know without a doubt that I could have given more. It wasn’t about beating out another runner; it was about knowing I left it all out there on the course with nothing I’d do differently and no regrets.

Which brings me back to my original question “What am I afraid of?”

Regrets.

Fear of becoming a “would-have-could-have-should-have” hoarder. Missing out on reaching goals or opportunities because I held back.

And if I am being completely honest here, gulp, I have been holding back with becoming more immersed in the next chapter of my career. I’ve been afraid to give 100% to new opportunities because doing so felt like I was closing the doors to an old, familiar comfy chapter – much like running the same route and drill every day. Embracing the new has been uncomfortable. However, going day to day trying to fill my schedule with activities that don’t contribute to where God’s leading is like running junk miles just so I can enter more miles in my running log. It’s like training on a completely different course than the one on which you’re about to race. And then when race day comes, expecting to magically P.R.

It has now taken me 1,362 words to say what God said in three:

“RUN TO WIN.” 1 Corinthians 9:24 MSG

Yes, that sounds scary. Almost all of those top 12 listed fears come to mind. But God also said very succinctly:

“Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NIV

With these two verses in my arsenal, God is equipping me to tackle my biggest fear every morning when my feet hit the floor and every race when I line up at the start. Get out of my comfort zone, trust the new training, give 100% on and off the course, leave the results to God, have no regrets. Good plan.