Dave and I had a little debate last year about why we start conversations with phrases like “not gonna lie.” He more commonly uses “I have to confess” which I debated is similar to “if I’m being honest” which I’ve always found funny as it raises the suspicion that all of the person’s previous statements were not honest?

I mean usually all these phrases precede innocuous opinions about things like food, entertainment, sports, weather, etc.

“If I’m being honest, my fave pizza is still Amici’s wood fired thin crust in NorCal.”

“I have to confess, I am not a fan of all this snow.”

Alas, I did not come on here to wax on about colloquialisms. But when I think about why I haven’t posted since the 2024 total eclipse, not gonna lie, it’s been a rough year and I didn’t wanna admit it. If I’m being honest, I still don’t.

Faithful readers of mine, you’ve probably noticed my last few blogposts have focused way less on actual running and more on cycling. So much so that I briefly contemplated changing my website name to “Biking God’s Race.” No, my goal has never been to become a cyclist – rather, it was simply the only way I could get outdoors for some cardio and endurance training because my hip made even walking painful much less running.

Faithful readers, you’ve also noticed my blogposts have been geared more towards LIFE through the filter of endurance events such as Dave’s cancer journey. Well this past year, my newest marathon has easily been my hardest. In fact, I’ve lost count of how many times I wanted to DNF. If I’m being honest, right now feels like I’m in race recovery mode. 

Two weeks ago, December 17th, I had total left hip replacement surgery. My initial consult was back in July which confirmed what I didn’t wanna admit: bone on bone, zero joint cartilage. My orthopedic surgeon came highly recommended by a friend who is younger than me and had the same surgery in the spring. The “younger than me” part of that last sentence was key as part of my decision to move forward with surgery. I have to confess, I had this preconceived notion that hip replacement was for 80+ year olds. Not gonna lie, I was already feeling like an 80 year old with the drastic change in how I walk which became painfully obvious every time well meaning friends saw me limping and would ask if I’d hurt myself or something. Maybe it was hormones, but one time after a comment about my limp, I actually excused myself to go to the bathroom then just stood in there and cried.

Hard to articulate the range of emotions, but it was a week or so before my surgery that I read the post from a very accomplished runner friend (much younger than me) about her own upcoming foot surgery and she said these simple words that hit home:

“It’s hard to give up something you love.”

There it was. In black and white. My marathon days were over. Even writing those words at this moment brings a lump in my throat.

My doc said it at that initial appointment after I told him how much I love racing and endurance events: 

“I don’t like the idea of you running.”

In my head, I might’ve said “Well, I don’t like YOU either.”

Honestly, I actually didn’t initially like him because he wasn’t moved by my many running accomplishments and what it took for me to haul my sorry self into his office. Why did I feel the need to tell him I’d run over 200 races, 55 of them marathons? I didn’t wanna blame my hip issues on running – especially all the extreme high impact trail races back in NorCal. Somehow I needed this highly regarded orthopedic surgeon (based in pancake-flat Carmel, Indiana) to know that I’ve run Mt. Diablo 50k with it’s 8,000 feet of elevation with parts so steep you have to be on all fours to get up there and on your butt to get down. 

I could’ve also added that a few years ago I ran a race out here mid-winter in downtown Indy called the 4 Hour Freeze where I slipped on a patch of ice walking to the start line which landed me squarely on my left hip and in so much immediate pain tears flowed. But being the endurance athlete that I am, I soldiered on and ran that race.

Nope. He was not impressed. Or empathetic. 

“You have three choices: You can take Advil or do PT the rest of your life. Or you can do hip replacement.”

I asked “What would YOU do if you were me?”

To which he replied without hesitation:

 “I wouldn’t have waited this long.”

That was July. Five months is a long time to mull over the implications of surgery. If he’d had an opening the next day, I would’ve taken it. In retrospect, God’s timing once again prevails.

Like my aforementioned runner friend, I almost cancelled the day before surgery. Like my friend, I was not looking forward to all the non-optional down time. I was told very sternly at pre-op PT appointment  little things like no walking the dog for 8 weeks or cycling for 3-6 months. I didn’t dare ask about running as I’d already researched and read that slow, short distance run/walk could resume in 12 months.

I love God’s timing…usually in retrospect. My surgery was December 17th. Once again, Natalie and I had put our names in the Chicago Marathon lottery in October for the 2026 race with the intent that if I got in, I’d take the deferral to run in October 2027. If she got in, she’d run 2026

as well as their two half marathons which guarantees her 2027 race entry. Lottery results came out December 12th, five days before my surgery. Neither of us got in.

How many times have I pleaded with God to spell things out for me? For Him to make clear His timing and direction?

Have I mentioned I love God’s timing? This morning’s devotional and verses (My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers) were right on point:

“Have you been asking God what He is going to do? He will never tell you. God does not tell you what He is going to do— He reveals to you who He is. Do you believe in a miracle-working God, and will you “go out” in complete surrender to Him until you are not surprised one iota by anything He does?”

“He went out, not knowing where he was going.” Hebrews 11:8

‘Each morning as you wake, there is a new opportunity to “go out,” building your confidence in God. “…do not worry about your life…nor about the body…” Luke 12:22. In other words, don’t worry about the things that concerned you before you did “go out.”’

I’m reminded the author of the book of Luke was in fact a doctor. And not just a doctor, Luke was the “beloved physician” according to Colossians 4:14. So when Dr. Luke says to not worry about the body, it hits different. He probably would’ve been a great orthopedic surgeon. He probably would’ve very empathetically told me to not worry about running, racing, cycling, walking, eating…

If I’m being honest, that’s probably what my surgeon was indirectly telling me, but I didn’t wanna hear it.

That’s also why I love God – He’s relentless. If I didn’t get it the first time, He’ll keep at it in different ways until I do. Make no mistake, it’s definitely easier if you get it the first time as I have often found out the hard way. That’s usually the point in every marathon I’ve run when I start saying on repeat “in my weakness, Your power is perfected!” That point when I’m about to DNF. Call it a day. Cancel the surgery. I’m learning now more than ever the utmost necessity – in running and LIFE – why God says “to take captive every thought to the obedience of Christ Jesus.” It’s how you make it to the next step and then the next…

As I’ve gone into this newest chapter of life with much prayer and many tears, I’m reminded that in between my July consultation and the morning of December 17th, God impressed on me through family, friends, and His very Word that THE BEST IS YET TO COME.

Not gonna lie, I’d forgotten He said that until just now. How easily convictions of the heart can fade away which is a really good reason to put it in writing – like a blogpost. 

Surgery day was an absolute canvas of God’s fingerprints from start to finish. You know they always give you questionnaires post surgery to rate your experience. If I could give 10 out of 5 stars I would! Seriously, every team member from the admissions nurse to the anesthesiologist to the assistants to the PA to the PT and even Doc himself totally made my day, dare I say, enjoyable. The attention to detail, care, compassion, humor, patience – almost makes me wanna go back and get my right hip done. *Almost*

A few highlights and funnies:

My admissions nurse is an IU football fan like Dave is a Cal fan. We got on the topic before I even changed into my hospital gown as I came in wearing a Cal hoodie. She proudly announced she was going to the Rose Bowl and Rose Parade. Of course, being a UCLA alum and having marched in the Rose Parade, we immediately bonded over logistics of getting to Colorado Blvd and the stadium itself. As she was inserting my IV, I noticed her nails were done in IU colors and symbols. I thought about her last night as I was watching Indiana and Cal’s former QB Fernando (Heis)Mendoza completely obliterate Alabama at my beloved Rose Bowl.

I am blessed to be able to say I am in the rare minority that has never had surgery, so everything was new to me. When Doc came in pre-op and said “So, which side are we doing?” I guess he was just checking I’m still okay with this whole thing? Lol. Then he autographed my left hip and said “See ya in 90 minutes!” I then walked across the hall to a gigantic room that I assumed was the OR. They’re never that big in all the Kdramas. I didn’t have time to ask all my hospital TV show questions since once I hopped onto the odd shaped operating table thing, I was out. I don’t recall anything after the anesthesiologist said “You might feel a slight…”

About an hour later, I woke up in a different room feeling like I’d gotten the best sleep of my entire life. Cute little assistant asked how I was feeling, got me water, and some heated blankets. They had put both legs in those air compression sleeves that I’ve only sampled enviously at marathon expos. Can I please just stay here forever? 

Then I was wheeled into my hospital room where Dave was waiting with a large cup of coffee for me. Several nurses came in to take vitals and set me up with room service which was great as I was so hungry since I wasn’t allowed to eat past midnight pre-op. Soon after, Doc came in to check on me. He held up my bent left leg by the knee and gently pressed it ALL THE WAY DOWN which just 90 minutes before during his pre-op visit could only go down half that distance! Crazy, right?! We talked briefly about following his “keys to success” handout and his motto “motion is lotion.” He is a man of few words but he lit up when Dave mentioned he went to Cal since his daughter did her undergrad at Cal and is now at IU Medical School. Proud doc and papa.

After I scarfed down the best scrambled eggs of my life and much needed coffee, the PT came in. She had me up and walking the hallways as well as practicing the safe way to go up and down stairs. Can you believe it was only two hours ago that I got my new hip joint?!

I couldn’t convince her to let me try running, haha, so we headed back to my room. I was still hungry, so I ordered some fruit, veggies, and cottage cheese. Polished that off along with more water. I was told constipation is a common side effect of anesthesia, so I decided I would drink all the water and eat all the fiber. 

The PA checked on me often. Around 3pm, asked if I felt any urge to pee. Nope. If I’m being honest, I couldn’t feel anything down there. It hadn’t occurred to me as odd that I didn’t have the urge to pee after all the coffee and water I’d drank. Hmm. The PA said that was normal, BUT it is a requirement to be discharged from the hospital that I do have a significant pee. Hmm. I actually got up and tried but not even a drop. The PA decided to do an ultrasound on my bladder to make sure it was actually full. Sure enough, it was. I was amused by the fact that the last time I had an ultrasound was when Meagan was maybe ten weeks into my pregnancy. Then I reminded Dave that he missed BOTH girls’ ultrasound appointments which I might’ve said in a strongly condemning tone. Clearly I’m over it. Haha. The PA picked up on my need for validation and said “I’m not supposed to do this, but…” and proceeded to print out the ultrasound of my pee-filled bladder then handed it to Dave: “Congratulations, here’s your pee baby.”

This PA is getting a 10 star review from me.

Well, after another attempt at peeing with no success, I was told they might need to go the catheter route. Enough said. My bladder understood the assignment. Fifteen minutes later, I peed more pee than I have in my life, and was discharged from the hospital.

Fast forward…

I’m now two weeks and two days post-op, had two home health PT visits, two PT appointments at the impressive rehab facility, doing 8-9 different PT exercises daily, and walking almost without a discernible limp. I was prescribed several pain meds, anti nausea meds, a laxative, and aspirin to prevent blood clots. I haven’t needed ANY of those except for the aspirin! 

ONLY GOD!

Maybe I’m getting over confident or having cabin fever (it has been single digits and snowy), but I’m probably already driving my PT crazy. At yesterday’s sesh I asked her if I could go for a short walk outside. She gave me THAT look and shook her head. I also asked if I could get back on my indoor cycle. Same. Then I asked if I could vacuum…I love vacuuming…

Cricket, cricket.

Speaking of vacuuming, I can’t say enough about how incredible Dave has been through this whole journey. I like to think he enjoys cooking, cleaning, and grocery shopping, but maybe that’s my guilt talking. It’s been humbling after 37 years of marriage to need him to put my socks on and tell me to sit back down when I try to make myself a sandwich. 

Faithful readers, thank you for running God’s race with me all these years. Some of you have been there from the start in 2014 – almost ONE HUNDRED blogposts ago!! Encouragement, support, cheerleading, prayers…it’s how I’ve gotten to the finish line each time. Perhaps it’s taken this new marathon I’m currently “running” and closing the chapter on actual running to fully drive home the verse that initially prompted this blog:

“Let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.” Hebrews 12:1