It’s National Ice Cream Day, so my church served free ice cream after both services. Yes, kids, the one time it’s okay to eat ice cream at 10:30 in the morning. Also okay since they’re not MY kids going home with me on a sugar-high.

I realized three things  from volunteering to scoop ice cream today:

1. I have absolutely no forearm strength.
2. No one likes vanilla anymore.
3. Germaphobes just “get” each other.

If you’ve ever tried to scoop ice cream from a rock-solid state, you understand the first one.  Yeah, I’m a runner with freakishly large quads and calves; but that doesn’t help when it comes to scooping ice cream.

Vanilla? Well, I guess kids’ tastes are just more sophisticated these days.

Alas, as I was cleaning up and only a few lonely cups of vanilla were left on the table, a mom friend approached suspiciously eye-ing the remaining scoops. I quickly apologized that there was only the one flavor to offer. Without looking up from the scoops, she asked

“Did anyone breathe on these?”

I was instantly filled with compassion, elation, and validation. It was almost as if she had walked up and given me the Vulcan hand salute “Live long and prosper.” I saluted back with my food service gloved hand and assured her the ice cream was not tainted in any way – at least with the naked eye. We then proceeded to praise each other for various maneuvers we regularly employ to avoid contact with infectious disease to ourselves and loved ones.

I mean, really, why doesn’t EVERYBODY use long sleeves pulled over their hand to open doors?

I often reflect on God’s sense of humor, or shall I say, His way of teaching me tangible lessons in my own learning style. How else would you explain why He had me start my teaching career with kindergarten? Gotta love when a five year old affectionately says “Mrs. Tang, I have a secret.” Then whispers in my face “I think I’m sick.” It’s a wonder that I didn’t walk into my classroom every day wearing CDC “Outbreak” attire.

*Parents:  If your kids have fevers, keep them home until they’re fever-free for 24 hours!

Except that rule doesn’t apply to teachers or parents themselves. I confess there are many days I’ve gone to school sick, BUT I justify it because I know I’m not gonna spread whatever it is I have due to my refined Ninja germaphobe skills (that, and no teacher enjoys writing sub plans).

The irony is that I’m a runner…who loves races…which means very close proximity to hundreds if not thousands of strangers. Porta-potties. Cups of water handed to me by un-gloved strangers. Mass quantities of fruit and bagels sitting out in the sun on uncovered tables. Finisher medals draped around my sweaty neck by volunteers who’ve already touched hundreds of other sweaty runners. And of course, plenty of high fives along the race course from fellow runners, spectators, and volunteers.

A germaphobe nightmare. Yet I bask in race day. I look forward to it. I immerse myself in it. I invest lots of money in it. I prepare for it. I train for it…

This reminds me of a message I heard at church a couple of months ago about courage. I think the title of the message may have been “Contagious Courage.” It was about that well-known story of David killing the giant Goliath with just his sling and a stone. How many times have I heard this Bible story and even taught it to students?

Yet I missed a key point each time.

I never caught the part about how Davids’s army was suddenly filled with courage after witnessing his big kill. I was more focused on how the enemy army fled in fear.

“So David triumphed over the Philistine (Goliath) with a sling and a stone; without a sword in his hand he struck down the Philistine and killed him… When the Philistines saw that their hero was dead, they turned and ran. Then the men of Israel and Judah surged forward with a shout and pursued the Philistines…”  1 Samuel 17:50-52

Are you picturing this scene? THEY WERE PUMPED! But it was only a few verses earlier that they were running the other direction feeling ill-equipped, unprotected, and fearing for their lives:

“Whenever the Israelites saw the man, they all fled from him in great fear.”  1 Samuel 17:24

We invest a lot of time and money in ways to best protect our family, health, possessions, and way of life.  That is certainly considered prudent and good stewardship of what has already been given.

A few small examples:

• Insurance – Whenever I have rented cars, I buy the extra insurance they offer not because I plan on driving recklessly but because of the fear of the unknown. I feel better just having that extra added protection.
• Alarm Clocks – I’ve invested quite a bit of money in race registrations and training. Guess what? I set three alarms the night before a big marathon for fear of not waking up in time and missing my race.
• Sunblock – Most of us would not spend hours at the beach or pool without first applying adequate amounts of sunblock.

But how is it we allow ourselves to go into heated situations without proper counsel, encouragement, and prayer? Sometimes I think we over-protect or over-compensate in areas that just need more God. When we have all this extra “stuff” supposedly protecting us, it takes the spotlight off of the One who is actually capable of protecting us – especially in the most impossible circumstances.

‘Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic. He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head. David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them. “I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” So he took them off. Then he took his staff in his hand, chose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.’  1 Samuel 17:38-40

David’s story is certainly not the only example in the Bible of how God equipped His warrior with great courage to perform mighty acts for the Kingdom.

God told Gideon in Judges 6:12 “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.”

But then three verses later Gideon says:

“Pardon me, my lord, but how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family… If now I have found favor in your eyes, give me a sign that it is really you talking to me. Please do not go away until I come back and bring my offering and set it before you”  Judges 6:15, 17-18

It gives me great comfort to know that even Gideon needed “proof” from God Himself about who will protect him and from whom he will draw strength. God even went so far as to send Gideon tangible, irrefutable evidence of His power and promise.

What followed was nothing short of the greatest backyard barbeque ever! Right before Gideon’s eyes, God set the meat and bread offering ablaze! Long story short, Gideon is another example of courage set on fire by God which later saved a nation.

This weekend was my high school graduating class’ 50 Year Birthday Bash. I couldn’t attend the festivities down in Southern California but have enjoyed seeing pics and memories posted on Facebook. There are photos of classmates that I literally have not seen since grad night when we were 17-18 year olds, and now 50 year olds (except me, but it’s coming in a few months…yikes!).

I don’t think I would recognize myself today if I met the 17 year old me. So many high school commencement speeches talk poignantly about facing the future with boldness and courage. I’m not sure I knew what that really meant at the time.

In fact, it probably wasn’t until recent years that the whole concept of courage went from something that is not so much “taught” as “caught.”

Perhaps I  have spent most of my adult life trying to avoid or prevent situations that require courage.

I confess that when I started this blog almost two years ago, I had a bunch of fears going into it. How do I even start one? Was my writing good enough? Did I have anything to say that mattered? What if no one reads it? Am I wasting my time? Will any of it bring glory to Jesus? Will anybody be able to relate?

Fears. They keep you captive which is NOT the same as protected.

David and Gideon didn’t just wake up one morning as the Bible heroes we know them as today. What do they both have in common (other than saving their nation)? They both drew courage and obedience from walking – and dare I say – running closely with God daily.

I belong to an incredibly motivating running community. Last weekend I ran the Brazen Racing Dirty Dozen Endurance Run for six hours and 28.16 miles. A non-runner friend later commented about the mileage: “Wow, how’s that even possible?!” Funny since it was a bit short of my 50K goal, but one of the most enjoyable runs due to the camaraderie of fellow runners constantly providing encouraging words and high-fives. If one can feel energized and encouraged from a simple “Way to go!” “Keep it up!” “You got this!” or a high-five, just think how pumped you could be from running daily with the Almighty. You might just find the courage to face the impossible that day.

 

 

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…

 

 

 

 

 

Notice I didn’t say “training.” Lately, I’ve been learning a lot about the word “EQUIPPING”…

What’s the difference?

Most runners say things like “I’m training for a (insert distance here).” You instantly get a mental picture of weeks, days, and hours logging in mileage and maybe some track and hill work.

But if I said “I’m equipping for my next race,” what would you picture?

Maybe you picture buying equipment such as new gear, energy gels, electrolyte supplements, the latest Garmin watch…

So to simplify, training is the actual physical running whereas equipping is getting the stuff you need to run more effectively.

This morning as I watched the Boston Marathon live feed on my laptop, I couldn’t help but marvel at the men and women in the lead pack consistently putting down five minute mile paces and barely slowing down to re-hydrate. The first time I tried to grab that paper cup of water from a cheering race volunteer then drinking it without slowing down just yielded water up my nose, down my shirt, and barely a drop in my mouth. Then there’s the time I thought I grabbed water to pour over my head on a hot race day, and it turned out to be Gatorade.

I cannot wrap my brain around the type and amount of training that these elite marathoners undergo. I also cannot fathom eating the way (whey…get it?) they eat to maintain that lean muscle mass which is evident in every stride of their 120 pound bodies (average men’s weight). All part of their elite training.

This morning, Ethiopia is proud. They swept the men’s and women’s top finishes in Boston. I love the t-shirt that says “In my dreams, I’m a Kenyan.” Kenyans usually top out the field in all distances. Today was Ethiopia’s day.

Honestly though, I have never actually dreamed of winning ANY race much less Boston. I remember chatting with another runner at a race expo recently. She was sharing how she didn’t have high expectations for a PR since her hamstring injury, so she had only been running 70 miles a week. ONLY. Yeah, at my peak, I was ONLY running 40 miles a week! Funny, even though our training was vastly different, I couldn’t help but notice we had the same Garmin watch, compression socks, Hokas, and favorite GU gel flavors in our arsenal for race day.

Yet she would likely finish her marathon an hour faster. And I was okay with that. She would run her race, and I would run mine.

Next week is the Big Sur Marathon. A bucket list race for many. Dave and I drove the course last year during a weekend trip to Carmel. I see why it’s on many runners’ bucket lists. A world class gorgeous course. And I get to check it off my list next Sunday.

I adjusted my training for this marathon because of the course elevation and a hill called Hurricane Point. But all the other preparation going into this race will be about the same. My equipping has not changed.

Big Sur is a big race; but a bigger, more exciting and fulfilling race lies before me…

I recently enthusiastically accepted the position of principal at Heritage Academy Christian School in my home town of San Ramon. As I look back at the road to this newest “starting line,” I am humbled and gratefully overwhelmed when I think about how God has been preparing me to run this new course.

“Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.”  Psalm 127:3 ESV

If you had told me two years ago that I would leave my beloved third grade classroom and a decade of teaching with some of the best human beings I’ve ever met, that I would leave the school that provided the foundation of Christian education for my own children and has launched so many of my own dreams and passions, that I would join entrepreneurial forces with my husband in opening two new franchise stores in Indiana, and THEN I would be given the incredible opportunity at another Christ-focused school to lead others in what I consider to be life’s greatest calling…

Well, I would have said “You’re dreaming!” Except that dream came true…and in the least expected ways!

As I went through the very thorough and surprisingly enjoyable interview process for this principal position, it was almost surreal. Usually job interviews conjure up at least a tiny bit of anxiety, but I can honestly say that I had complete peace from that first meeting, the all-day campus observations, a comprehensive psychological/leadership assessment, to the final school board interview. All were conducted with hearts of prayer and unified purpose.

I love God’s timing. And process.

Through a Women’s Bible study in February called “Honor’s Reward” (by John Bevere) and a TON of prayer the past two years for direction and clarity on my next assignment, I can now see and more clearly articulate how God had been preparing me and had ALREADY EQUIPPED ME to run this next race at Heritage Academy.

As a quick side note, it’s always fun to hear what tests conclude to be your strengths and gifts. And even areas of weakness. Okay, so you probably never want me working on your car engine, in your research lab, or creating your accounting departments’ spreadsheets. Let’s just mutually agree that this is in everyone’s best interests.

When I think about my current strengths and gifts, they have not changed much since as far back as I can remember. Why does this surprise me? Could it be that we are born already equipped with certain gifts? And that most of our adult lives should be dedicated to using those gifts for their intended God-given purposes? And how do we encourage others to use gifts we see in them but perhaps they don’t see in themselves?

I cringe when I hear well-meaning adults ask little kids “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I realize it’s usually asked in fun and as conversation fodder. But what a loaded question for a five year old if you really think about it. Okay, lighten up, Irene, it’s just for fun! I know, I know. And it is truly inspiring when your little guy wants to be a fireman just like his daddy. Or scientist just like her mommy. Or singer just like her TV idol. Nothing wrong with that…if it happens to be their God-given gift aligned with His intended purposes. Otherwise, they may end up living someone else’s dream.

And that, my friends, is the main point of my blog today:  

To encourage YOU to see how God has equipped you for His purposes! Your race course will change – drastically and/or marvelously – but your equipping will not.

When I’m in my starting corral at Big Sur next Sunday, I probably won’t be thinking about my months of training, carbo-loading, choice of gels or compression socks. I will be wide-eyed with excitement and anticipation of the 26.2 mile journey ahead of me. I will be thanking Jesus for this opportunity and strength to run another race. I will be chatting with other runners about pre-race rituals and sharing favorite race experiences. All will be right in the world.

But I can almost guarantee at Mile 20 that I will start to question my sanity and very existence. It is during those next miles that I will doubt my training and equipping.

The good news is that the most essential training and equipping does not come from pounding the pavement, treadmills, Garmin, or even Hoka. It comes from The One who trains and equips us. Daily. And because He already knows every turn and hill and obstacle on the race course. It comes by His Word and By His Spirit.

“All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16-17  NIV

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.  But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.”  James 1:2-6 NIV

My favorite question from my school board interview was “Describe a race when you relied on Jesus to get you through the toughest part.” My answer:  EVERY. SINGLE. RACE.

Big Sur will be marathon #36 for me. And after that, embarking on my new role as principal at Heritage Academy will be my most exciting race yet…

“Train up a child in the way he should go,
Even when he is old he will not depart from it.”  Proverbs 22:6 NASB

“…to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.  From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.” Ephesians 4:12-16 NIV

 

As I sit at my desk in the front room of our home, I look out the window to the street view which is currently quiet, bursting with budding greenery, and the usual elderly couple out for their morning stroll. The quietness broken by the occasional chirping birds. The warmth of the sun streaming in feels therapeutic this morning.

Life is good.

Inside, the house is an almost deafening silence. My usual coffee with soy milk sitting neatly on my desk coaster. Perfect. Ideal conditions to write.

It occurs to me that today is my 49th Good Friday, although I didn’t truly grasp what that meant until recent years. My focus was usually on Easter Sunday. After all, THAT’S the important part, right?

I am turning 50 this year and have been a Christian since sophomore year in high school when I was first introduced to Jesus at Friday night youth group. But would you believe it’s taken me almost thirty years to realize how exactly Good Friday applies to me?

Yesterday’s devotional from Oswald Chambers was titled “Decreasing for His Purpose” based on one of my favorite running verses. I can’t think of a race when this verse has not come to mind; in fact, it’s this verse that has propelled me to the finish line one painful step at a time on many occasions:

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” John 3:30 ESV

How exactly does that verse help one to finish a race? And what does that verse have to do with Good Friday? Well, it’s kind of the partner verse to my other fave:

“My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

These verses help me to take the focus off of myself and my own pain. They remind me of the pain Jesus endured on the Cross; and in my own imperfect, limited, human way, I can identify with His suffering. Many, many times during every marathon I’ve ever run, I have repeated these words while picturing my Savior carrying the Cross up that final hill without any thought of quitting or taking the easy way out until IT WAS FINISHED.

God loves me so much that He came up with the perfect object lesson (always the teacher) to teach me about Good Friday – through running marathons.

I tell people the marathon is my favorite race distance because it is the distance during which I reach my very weakest points and the distance in which I absolutely know I won’t finish strong without completely relying on His strength.

I’ve run a few 50K races and have many friends who consistently run 50 and 100 milers (aka the road to crazy town indeed). I also have just as many friends who love the 5K, 10K, and half marathon distance races.  THAT is the beauty of God; He knows what YOUR distance is and how to get you to your finish line.

My 35th marathon was last weekend – on Palm Sunday actually. Tomorrow I get to pace a good friend at her very first half marathon. The excitement, nervousness, anticipation. I told her “You’ll always remember your first race!” It is special.

Sandwiched in between the start line and the finish line will be cheering crowds, lukewarm water in tiny paper cups, unpalatable gels (that you wouldn’t even consider touching under any other circumstances), unexpected cramping, chafing, highs, lows, pain, doubt, fear, suffering, and of course, unimaginable delight at the sight of the actual finish arch.

As Jesus has been right there by my side during every moment of every race I’ve ever run, I hope to be that encourager to my friend in her first big race tomorrow. And even more so, I hope that when she looks back at this race, she will know with a deep contentedness how good the pain and suffering was that allowed her to enjoy the finish all the more.

To say Easter is only about Sunday is like saying the race is only about the medal. Knowing what it took to get to that finish line and why it was all necessary…

 

I almost NEVER get sick. I won’t admit it or even say the word if I’m starting to feel yucky. I have only called in sick three times in nine years of teaching. I was secretly hoping for some sort of Perfect Attendance award like the ones students get at the end of a school year.

Today I am home… sick. Why is this so hard for me to admit?

Before sitting down to write this, I noticed some stuff left out in the living room and kitchen over the weekend. I had to put them away first. Then I had to check email, texts, and Facebook notifications. Okay, got my coffee and two slices of my fave toast. Now I’m ready to sit down and blog.

Cuz I can’t just lie around all day… resting. What would that accomplish?

As I was doing all this, I remembered a friend’s Facebook post from this morning about a Bible theme that has come up for me more than a few times this past week:

‘As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.  Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught.  But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.” But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”’ Luke 10:38-42

Can I just admit that I’ve always felt bad for Martha? I definitely relate to her more than her lazy, unproductive, underachiever of a sister. Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be about priorities and what is ultimately and eternally more important. OR  IS IT?

(Even now as I just got up to go to the bathroom, I see that I need to clean bathrooms, vacuum, and buy dog food.)

Where was I? Oh yeah… OR IS IT?

Yesterday’s daily devotional by good old Oswald Chambers was particularly striking. The title was simply “Do You Really Love Him?”

It posed the idea of doing something for Jesus not because it is useful, or my duty, or because there’s anything in it for me. It’s done purely and simply because I love Him.

I remember when Natalie and Meagan were preschoolers and used to draw me pictures or make cards for me out of scrap paper. Indiscernible Crayola Picasso-esque works accompanied by random letters of the alphabet that sent the one message loud and clear that ONLY a mother could appreciate: “I love you, mommy!”

Works that ONLY a mother could love. And treasure. And put on the refrigerator.

Then I got to thinking what would be the equivalent of THAT to my Heavenly Father? What could I possibly do that would be of value ONLY to God? Something that ONLY Jesus would love? And worthy of putting on His refrigerator?

I’m thinking it wouldn’t involve a clean house, gourmet dinners, healthy bank account, straight A children, lots of Facebook posts, more church service, being nice to Oski, or even  running more marathons.

Last weekend was Valentines Day and also the same day as the L.A. Marathon. I signed up for this one months ago when I saw that it had been moved a month earlier since it was to be the Olympic Trials venue. That meant cooler temps! I had vowed never to run this one again after the humid 85 degree March weather during the 2014 L.A. Marathon which felt like running on the surface of the sun. I watched the February weather forecast like a hawk from day one. Hmmm, didn’t look good. By the time it got to the weekend forecast, temps in the 90s were showing.

But I had planned this one so carefully and even simulated my training runs for L.A. course conditions!

So, one of the things I absolutely LOVE about God is His sense of humor which – for me – translates to how He always works everything out in a way that speaks incredibly deeply and personally. God and I had a good laugh about how I thought I had this race all figured out. All weekend, He kept me laughing. Even being stuck in Friday, long weekend L.A. traffic was humorous as Dave’s GPS woman became the new love of his life. I was actually jealous.

I am pretty thorough about how I pack for travel races. Down to having alternate race outfits, a new tube of BodyGlide (chafing – the struggle is real), and those little plastic wrappers that hotel Q-tips come in which I use to put exactly four Advil to be taken at mile 18. As I left the hotel room at 4:45  to catch the shuttle to the Dodger Stadium start line, I realized I forgot to pack a mylar space blanket since I’d need it for the two hours waiting in the cold morning temps before the 7am start. Oh well. Good thing it wasn’t TOO cold, but it was still chilly.

Another runner was looking for someone to walk with to the shuttle. I enthusiastically agreed since the last time I walked alone to the shuttle on dark L.A. streets was unnerving and unwise. I told her I first wanted to get a trash bag from the concierge to wear since I forgot my mylar blanket. She offered me her sweatshirt since she had brought two. It was my size and even matched my outfit. Yeah, THIS coming from a girl about to wear a trash bag.

My new friend and I caught the shuttle and hung out inside Dodger Stadium which was open to runners this year before the race. We exchanged stories about good and not-so-good races. We chatted about the Olympic trials which my running hero Meb qualified! She didn’t know too much about Meb, so I told her what I knew having read his book Run to Overcome. I shared about how he inspires me with his faith and his own favorite Bible verses like “Run to win!” from 1 Corinthians 9:24. His daughters made a poster with that verse to cheer on their daddy.

An hour just flew by as dawn and race time approached. We walked over to the long lines of porta-potties. This is where we lost each other. Bummer, cuz I really wanted to wish her a good race and tell her I was praying for her.

I made my way to my starting corral along with 25,000 other runners. The sun came up to a beautiful day, National Anthem, starting horn, and my 34th marathon.

I don’t think it actually got up to 90 degrees. In fact, it didn’t feel as warm as I had expected. I spent all of the two days prior chugging water continuously to stay hydrated for the race. We happened to also be in L.A. for Natalie’s swim conference championships, so I was pretty much either watching swims or peeing all day. Dave didn’t realize that having clear pee was a goal to which one aspires. It’s a runner thing. We’ll just leave it at that.

Maybe it’s from being a teacher, but I usually go into a race with a theme and objective. This month I’m leading a women’s Bible study series based on the book Honor’s Reward by John Bevere. Its tag line on the cover says “How to attract God’s favor and blessing.” Who wouldn’t want that?!

Hold on…it’s not what I expected. It speaks of honoring and valuing those people and authorities God has placed above, alongside, and under us. My goal for this Valentines Day race was to honor Jesus and value those around me. How? I often pray for other runners on the course. I always thank volunteers and police. Never litter. Cheer others on with “Good job! Way to go! Don’t give up! or Finish strong!” And TRY to smile so at least it looks like I have the joy of the Lord.

But ANYONE can do those things. What is MY thing that honors God and brings Him so much joy that He’ll want to put it on His refrigerator? How did I run my race in a way that ONLY my Father could love and appreciate?

At mile 23, I realized that I felt pretty good. *This NEVER happens! Of course, I thought about really gunning it to the finish. Then a fave song comes on:  “Breathe” by Jonny Diaz. The bridge of the song says this: “Lay down what’s good and find what’s best.”

THAT would be my Valentine to Jesus. I would stop thinking about my own goals, even though they were good and made sense. I would lay down my “to-do” list. I would enjoy those last four miles to “sit at Jesus’ feet.” Okay, not literally. I would be a Mary runner instead of a Martha runner

Weird thing happened. When I checked my Garmin stats later, I was surprised to see those last few miles were as fast as my first. And it didn’t even feel like it!

Walking through the finishers’ chute and post race recovery area, I caught a glimpse of a familiar blonde. It was my sweatshirt shuttle friend! I called out her name and then we exchanged sweaty hugs and race reports. I had the chance to congratulate her, thank her again for her sweatshirt, and tell her I had prayed for her. If I had run those last few miles according to my own “good” plan, I know I would not have met up with Robin.

Timing was also impeccable for catching the shuttle back to the hotel. In the past, I’ve waited anywhere from 15-30 minutes for the bus to leave then another 40 minutes in traffic which is just more time for lactic acid to have its way in these old legs of mine. The last seats on the bus were next to THE MOST FRIENDLY couple I’ve ever met. Seriously, if there was an award for “Mr. and Mrs. Congeniality” of the race, they won! We chatted and hobbled back to the hotel together. (They were both much younger as well as Boston qualifiers, so I felt just the tiniest bit of satisfaction that they were hobbling worse than me.)  I mentioned I was headed to watch my daughter’s swim finals. The husband said “Hey, we should bring our kids to your daughter’s meet!” WHO DOES THAT?!

When we got to the hotel, they asked me to take a picture of them in the lobby with their medals. As I was reaching for his phone to take the pic, a stranger in the lobby offered to take the pic of the three of us since he assumed we were friends. We politely laughed and declined. They took my pic for me.

Aside from the fact that I had gone against every stranger danger rule that day, God orchestrated all sorts of people and circumstances to illustrate how He loves me in detailed ways that are probably ONLY meaningful to me.

So, maybe now on God’s fridge there’s a crayon scribbled drawing of two girls at the finish line of the L.A. Marathon with a smiley face sun over the beach in the background. And another drawing of three stick figure people wearing medals with big disproportionate heads and smiles. But ONLY God would know what I had just scribbled for Him…and why.

 

 

 

 

This week I had the opportunity to do one of my favorite things – talk to kids about Jesus and running! Our elementary school Run Club is highlighting one Olympic athlete of faith each month as we approach the 2016 Summer Olympics. For the next few months, I get to research and present the testimonies of how these Olympians “run God’s race” on and off the course. But the real challenge is how to make it relevant to four to eleven year olds.

My running heroes are Ryan Hall and Meb (no last name needed when you’re that awesome). I’ve read both their books Running With Joy: My Daily Journey to the Marathon and Run to Overcome. I decided to talk about Ryan Hall this week having just heard about his announcement to retire at the ripe old age of 33.

Following his announcement, Ryan posted a video interview in which his wife Sara talks about one of his most memorable events and certainly one of his BEST DAYS EVER: The 2007 Houston Half Marathon in which he obliterated the American record with a time of 59.43. I still can’t wrap my brain around that time as my own half marathon PR is 1:52. Here’s the video clip (copy and paste) that I showed to Run Club this week:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10153921505339445&id=40233564444&refsrc=https%3A%2F%2Fm.facebook.com%2FFloTrack%2Fvideos%2F10153921505339445%2F&_rdr

I love how Sara (2016 Olympic Marathon contender) shares why they both run: TO GLORIFY GOD. She also wove Colossians 3:23 into the interview naturally and matter-of-factly.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart as for the Lord, not for men.”

I wore my autographed race shirt to Run Club this week.

 

Ryan always autographs with John 10:10.

Little did I know at the time how much that verse would speak to me years later. Intellectually I “got” that Jesus came that I may have an abundant, FULL life. Guess what? It’s easy to testify of this verse when you are always winning. When you’re in the spotlight – for good reasons. When things are going your way. When you’re healthy. When you’re not being criticized or judged. When you make decisions that others agree with.

But if a full life is only about winning and everything going your way and people liking all that you do, NO ONE would ever get to experience this idea of a full life. If full life is the goal, what is the prize?

The prize HAS to be one that everyone can attain regardless of circumstances. It HAS to be one that can withstand the test of time, trends, and trials. The prize HAS to be worthy of the race that was run.

That prize is joy.

And the name of the race is contentment.

My mind was kind of blown this week as I was preparing to talk to Run Club. I was all set to tell the kids about how John 10:10 is like when you go to McDonald’s and you get the happy meal that comes with EVERYTHING: the burger, fries, drink, and a toy. THAT is life to the FULL for a four year old, right? How else do you translate “contentment” and “joy” to elementary school kids?

Run Club just ran its first official race of the season last weekend. El Nino was threatening to dampen our efforts that Saturday morning as we lined up in the starting corral. It did pour down rain right before the starting horn went off but was completely dry for the duration of the race. In fact, the sun peeked out and yielded some beautiful rainbows against the backdrop of this scenic bayside course.

I paced a fifth grader in the 10K race. He ran a strong, consistent pace until about mile five and a couple of muddy hills. At that point he said his legs were tired. I told him that whenever I feel tired and like I can’t go another step, I remember how tired and in pain Jesus was going to the Cross. He endured all the way to the end for us. He never gave up. He finished strong. He was focused on the FULL JOY that would be His forever.

I’m so proud of Daniel’s perseverance in that 10K race. He did finish strong. And he placed second in his age group! He also knocked a good 17 minutes off his last year’s 10K time with a 1:01:53. After the race, he even said to me “My legs feel like they could run more!” I have a feeling that years from now, he may not remember his exact finish time; but he will remember how it felt to push through pain and the joy of knowing he didn’t give up.

As Run Club gathered for post-race ice cream (that’s really why they ran, right?), one of our first grade girls said to me,

“This is the BEST day ever!”

As a 49 year old, I’m fairly certain this six year old will have many more “best days ever.” But it made me think about how much God must delight in that statement. When was the last time I said “This is the BEST day ever!”? And what does it take for me to declare that anything was the BEST ever? Or maybe the question should be “What is preventing me from saying it was the BEST day ever?” Each and every day.

I think some days I wake up setting myself up for a non-best day. If I don’t have a purposeful, hearty to-do list with a training run built in to the day, my outlook is already cloudy. If I can’t systematically check off things from my list, the day will not come close to “best” status. If I have a bad run, if I have an argument with Dave, if the car repair costs more than estimated, if I ate junk food, if I read negative emails… And let’s not ignore those “times of the month” when emotions are out of control, important decisions should NOT be made on those days, and it would be safer for everyone if I just stayed in bed all day.

I said earlier my mind was blown this week. It happened during an ordinary run Tuesday morning on my regular seven mile route. I was thinking about how to experience more joy in my life. Okay, nevermind life…how about just on this little run? I thought about John 10:10. I also thought about how Paul spoke of all things being possible in Christ – namely being CONTENT in all circumstances (Philippians 4:13).

Content. I’ve never really liked that word. For some reason, I associated it with “compromise.”  Like somehow being content means I settled for less. Or that I’m just supposed to be happy with whatever happens. Or when I don’t hit a race PR or goal, I’m supposed to be content as long as I tried my best, right?

The mind blowing part was that I realized I had it backwards. When I reversed the question of joy, I nearly stopped in my tracks. Instead of looking for how I can find joy for myself in all circumstances, I suddenly saw it as “How can I bring joy to my God in all circumstances?”

What do my actions, thoughts, and heart need to reflect for God to say “Irene, this was the BEST day ever!”

The dictionary defines the word content as “not wanting more or anything else.” This does not mean I can’t set higher goals. It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t set high expectations and standards. It doesn’t mean compromise or settling for less than best effort. It simply means making Jesus the focus and recipient of joy.

Contentment and joy have one key similarity: great satisfaction. That sounds a whole lot like LIFE TO THE FULL to me!

Oh, and my bib number last Saturday just “happened” to be #1010. Commemorating the best day ever. Until the next one…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

Usually, those are words I look forward to hearing during a race.

Spectators often cheer runners on with those words along with “Almost there!” as well-intentioned encouragement even when there’s still ten miles to go.

But last Saturday, I never heard those words. In fact, the only cheering was from volunteers at the aid stations and along the flat part of the course…basically the last two miles.

I really didn’t know what to expect from marathon #32. I’ve done over a hundred races of various distances, but this one was the hardest of which to prepare. I’ve run trail races with NET elevation changes of almost 4,000 feet, but I’ve never run a road race with a 4,000 foot drop in the first thirteen miles. Period.

Why would I sign up for such a race? Two letters:  P.R.

As I turned 49 last month, it is not lost on me that it might just get harder as I approach 50 to improve on my race times aka Personal Record. So, it makes perfect sense to sign up for races with the most PR potential. And those courses typically have NET downhill elevations. California International Marathon and Mountains2Beach are good examples of “fast” courses. I can attest to their PR potential as I ran personal bests of 4:14 and 4:13 at those races.

Still, dreams of going sub-4 dance around in my head.

I did not go into last Saturday’s race with delusions of a sub-4 hour finish. However, I did think a PR was in my grasp if I ran those first downhill miles wisely. Months prior, I read up on specific downhill training tips and made frequent trips to my favorite hilly run place – the Upper Rim Trail of the Lafayette Reservoir. Some nice steep climbs and descents to be had here. But was it enough? I also added stadium step work and cycle classes to my weekly routine. Was THAT enough?

Spoiler alert: NO.

It has been three days since I crossed the finish line of the Revel Canyon City Marathon. Arguably one of the most beautiful and unique road courses I’ve run.

The shuttle ride up to the start (that took over an hour due to the narrow two lane road with hairpin turns) gave runners their first glimpse of the magnificent vistas they would enjoy.

It has been three days since I woke up at 3:30 am full of anticipation and indecision on whether to wear my compression tights or run skirt since the weather forecast predicted a chilly start and warm finish.

It has been three days since I gathered with 2,000 other crazies wrapped in space blankets engaged in friendly chatter while nestled in the humble redwood setting of the little Crystal Lake campgrounds in the Angeles National Forest, elevation 5,700 feet.

It has been three days since I still had hopes for a new PR. Three days since I could still walk normal. Three days since the sight of stairs didn’t reduce me to tears.

So, what went wrong? Actually, nothing.

It’s always prudent to go back and analyze what went well and how you’d improve. As I think back to the training, preparation, and actual race, I’m not sure I could’ve done anything more or anything differently.

Hindsight is always 20/20, right?

One of my favorite run-inspired Bible verses says:

“I know that I have not yet reached that goal, but there is one thing I always do. Forgetting the past and straining toward what is ahead, I keep trying to reach the goal and get the prize for which God called me through Christ to the life above.”  Philippians 3:13-14 NCV

God knows it’s in our human nature to revert to the “should haves” and “could haves” in our lives. But unless you intentionally went into a situation set on going against proper training, wisdom, and protocol, you actually could not have achieved any better results. Based on your knowledge and preparation going into any event, the “best” outcome is the product of applying both – which is different than the “ideal” outcome.

What do I mean by “ideal?”

Well, “ideally” my flight the day before the race would not have been delayed and I would not have sat around in an airport terminal or L.A. traffic for hours.  “Ideally” I would not have eaten my pre-race dinner at 8:00 pm as a result of the flight and traffic delay. “Ideally” I would not have pre-race jitters and be able to sleep my normal six hours comfortably. “Ideally” I would not have funky stomach from eating so late and need to stop at a porta-potty THREE times during a race. “Ideally” the temperature would stay at 60 degrees instead of climbing to 86. And, “ideally” I would not have run the first thirteen miles 30 seconds per mile faster than I should have.

If I keep focusing on what could have or should have been, I am preventing myself from fully enjoying what God DID allow to happen. I believe that is part of what the apostle Paul wrote about in Philippians 3.

I lined up at the starting area in between the 4:10 and 4:25 pacers. I ended up passing most of the runners in those groups NOT because I ran faster than the 4:10 pace, but because they succumbed to the quad shredding of the first thirteen downhill miles. I was surprised to see John, the runner I sat next to on the shuttle who had run this race last year, at mile 19…walking. He gave me good tips on the bus ride about not going out too fast and taking in the breathtaking views. We had lined up at the same place in the start corral. But when the starting gun went off, he took off and I didn’t see him until mile 19. I asked how he was doing (I had silently prayed for him at the start). He shook his head and replied that his quads were done. I said “Same here! But I’m gonna run in denial! Finish strong, John!”

Denial.

Deny fatigue the opportunity to keep me from seeking God’s presence. Deny circumstances a chance to take my eyes off of the true prize. Deny pain of robbing me of a strong finish.

Through running marathons, God has coached me on what He means when He says to keep my eyes fixed on Him, His goals for me, and His prize. During last Saturday’s race as well as many others (since I have only PR’d a few times), goals are adjusted to meet circumstances. The goal at the start line was PR – anything under 4:13. After mile 16 and my quads experienced what I had only read about in downhill training articles, the goal adjusted to anything under 4:20. When a couple of uphills showed up later (they looked flat on the elevation profile), the goal adjusted to 4:25. When temperatures reached 86, the goal adjusted to 4:30.

There’s nothing wrong with adjusting goals according to unforeseeable circumstances and physical demands (pretty sure slowing down the pace to avoid injury is acceptable). But MY MAIN GOAL – which cannot be adjusted – is to seek His presence and His ways above any earthly prize like a medal or a PR.

What does this look like on the race course? How do you do this while running?

These are some things I’ve learned to do over the years:

• I’ve got a whole arsenal of Bible verses memorized which somehow always seem to come to mind when I need it most and literally propel me to not give up.
• I’m constantly having conversations with God and telling Him how awesome it is that He even made this beautiful mountain (or ocean or forest) that I was descending. I’ve actually said “Good job, God!” when I see an incredible view.
• I see runners struggling at times, and I ask God to help them.

• I run with my iPod filled with pump-up jams from my fave Christian artists. Many of these songs are based on familiar Bible verses. At this particular race, Lauren Daigle’s “First” was my theme song. Can’t go wrong when you choose to seek Jesus FIRST before any other needs. But I’m definitely not limited to Christian music. I’ve made it a personal goal to take ANY song and run to it with a Biblical perspective. Yes, even “Turn Down for What,” “Titanium,” or “Mony, Mony.” (No comment Natalie and Meagan).
• I am reminded at mile markers to pray for family, friends, and concerns of my own. I have cried during runs. Big, sobbing, heaving cries. That’s a good thing when God brings you to tears.

Praying for others during a run remarkably takes my mind off of my own misery and even makes miles seem to go by faster.

I dedicated this particular marathon to my little friend Nico currently battling leukemia. At mile 22 when it was hot, I felt nauseous (but nothing compared to the nausea experienced from chemo), and my quads were thrashed, I prayed strength and healing for Nico and his family.

And when I see a silver-haired runner in front of me looking strong and determined, the one thing I ask of God (besides getting me to the finish line), is that He would strengthen me and allow me to continue running when I am silver-haired.

I absolutely love that Saturday morning’s devotional theme was all about circumstances! The verse was Romans 8:28 which says

“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.”

Oswald Chambers’ devotional (from My Utmost for His Highest) that morning was this:

“In the life of a saint there is no such thing as chance. God by His providence brings you into circumstances that you can’t understand at all, but the Spirit of God understands. God brings you to places, among people, and into certain conditions to accomplish a definite purpose through the intercession of the Spirit in you.”

Reading this right before leaving the hotel for the race shuttle gave me so much peace and joy. I couldn’t wait to see how this day would unfold!

My circumstances did not change my love for running God’s race last Saturday. Even with three porta-potty stops, no PR, and thrashed quads, I won that day.

*12/11/15 Revel Canyon City Marathon folks sent out personalized videos of all runners this morning.  Here’s mine: