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…