Scorched places

"And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong;" Isaiah 58:11

In the hours of injury, it can feel like eternity. 

Pain, trauma, and suffering linger, and time seems to slow in seasons of struggle. 

But as we continue to heal and grow, it isn't always physical or emotional, sometimes it is deep and only spiritual. 

It's a strange thing to hit rock bottom. It feels desperate, layered with darkness. But there is a quiet beauty there, down in the bottom. There is only one direction left, growth. 

Sometimes that growth may not look the way we want. 

Sometimes physical healing doesn't come. 

Sometimes emotional healing feels like delay, tangled in grief. 

But there is one place where growth is always possible. 

always welcomed...

always invited...

In the Lord. 

It is there that I am reminded that He will never leave me or forsake me. And it is in Him that I find peace, even when other areas of my life are stalled. 

I caught myself several times with week SMILING. The kind of moment you want to pinch yourself because it feels surreal. I am running this training block, week after week hitting my numbers, doing things differently and it is working. I am still scared to death about running Western States and will have multiple degrees of fear, but I have such excitement that the Lord has redeemed me and continues to lead me every week closer and closer to the gift of His glory. 

The Rundown

This training season has taught me so much. Or maybe it was the injury. 

I was chatting with a friend today and realized that the peace I feel in this training block isn't coming from progress or performance, it is coming from abiding. 

There have been things I've had to lay down in order to grow in the Lord. And to be honest, running has been one of them. 

As I've prayed, I have reminded myself that above all things, my relationship with Him matters the Most. If running causes me to fall short in that, then it cannot hold space. 

I have had seasons I have put friends, running, relationships on the altar of my heart and there is NO PEACE there only pain. 

That realization led to deep reflection.

 

"What does my running look like?'

"Is it something offered to God...or something I'm holding onto?"

Maybe this season is more about the Lord pruning areas in my running that do not belong there. 

Because Growth in Him Matters More than Growth in Miles. 

Because He gets the Glory in all of it. There is no place for accolades and shining spotlights. 

And maybe, just maybe...

When I surrender it fully, The Lord will either reshape it, redeem it. or return it in a way that brings Him greater GLORY than before. 

Growth isn't always forward; it is sometimes deeper. 

And that is where I am at. I am not faster, I am actually slower, I am not that much stronger if at all, but I am running Western States 100 miler in 7 weeks. 

I have calculated my training, connected my training plans and we are going to give it a GO! I do not know the outcome; I just need to stay rooted. 

APRIL 20-26th:

•  69miles
• 8,435 ft of elevation. 

Kara and I ran Highland Rec on Monday, 17 miles, 2,425 ft of elevation

TRAIL weekend 50K. I ran a 50K with a friend, Kendall. She and I used it as a training run with lots of elevation. She signed up that week with a little trepidation and did amazing. She led the first 26 miles like a rockstar and when she started to feel fatigued, I jumped into the lead with music to give us a second wind. And we both came back to life.

My sweet Celia, I always love seeing her.

We finished strong, shoulder to shoulder together, I was so happy. And we were both shocked to discover we each won age awards for a training run. Glory to God. 

These moments are the monumental moments or growth. When friendships weigh heavier than medals. 

Because those are the things that matter most. 

Kendall and I somewhere on the Poto, 52.5 miles,
3,900 ft of elevation.

In Peace, Not Pieces,

Anita

Mt. Holly, Little Lessons in Big climbs

"Uphill is honest, you can't cheat gravity." Killian Jornet

 I am 11 days out from the New River 100k, truth is recovery was short because training has to press on. 

Last week brought me 2-20mile runs, and a 10-mile trail run out at Holly Rec with Andy and a few friends. 

But by today, my body felt the condensed training, even though my heart was excited and ready. 

Today was a key training day at Mt Holly. I was going to just show up and run that mountain, but I asked permission. "today only, we will be running heavy equipment." 

• I needed the Time on Feet
• I needed the elevation training/ extreme suffering
• I needed to train with my sissy sticks (trekking poles) 

With a sky bigger than the hill I headed towards the man-made mountain. 

And I climbed. 

14 miles. 

Poles in my hand, wobbling less than my legs. 

No music-just my breath, my heart and a lot of conversations with the Lord. 

It didn't take long for the strain to hit, heart pounding like I was in a concert, breath heaving, and calves cursing me. 

Oddly in all the agony I had peace. I didn't resist the discomfort. I let the discomfort train ME. 

I let the training coach me. 

Because Here is the REALITY:

• Western States = 18,000 ft of climbing
• Sulphur Springs 100- 16,150 ft
• Kettle Morain 100- 8,453 ft 
• Bear Lake (92 miles) - 8,900 ft
• Cloudsplitter 100K- 15,000 ft
• Midwest to Everest 50m- 10,455 ft

I have some work to do. And we don't have mountains or elevation in Michigan!

But I do have a choice, to show up and do the work with what I have been given and to embrace the suck!

Today's goal wasn't about pace. 

It wasn't comfort.

It was Faithfulness. Commitment. Fortitude. 

Not perfection. Just trusting the process. 

Little Lessons in Big Climbs

1. Do it afraid. Just start. 
2. Don't cheat yourself. Follow through. 
3. Humble grit. Give God the Glory, it is by His strength. His Will. 

RUNDOWN

Mt. Holly: 14 miles

Time: 3h 20 min

Elevation: 3,1,33 ft

Average heart rate: 127

We often choose the path we can predict, the safest one. But growth lives in the places we can't control. The places that often are not comforting. 

When we surrender the outcomes in life and simply do the work in front of us, it may feel like strain, pain and discomfort but it produces something deeper:

"..a peace that passes all understanding." Phil. 4:7

Suffering has a way of stripping everything down to a place that it allows us to draw closer to the Lord. 

It exposes what we trust, what we fear, and where we run when things get hard. 

And when we stop fighting it, that is when we let it do its work. It doesn't weaken us, it REFINES us. 

IN PEACE, NOT Pieces, 

Anita

 

New River 100K Recap: The Perfect Storm

 

There are many moments during the New River 100K in Fries Virginia my stomach had the loudest voice. If my stomach was the author of  this post it would be all together different! 

The 100K runners started at 4AM in the dark, a small group of about 15-17 runners. The course was flat and simple, simple enough that even I didn't get lost, or math wrong! 

My plan was clear: run the first 20 miles at a sub-11-minute pace. Faster than I wanted, but with the heat coming in full force by 11AM, I needed to bank miles before the sun had its way....and it would. 

For most of those early miles, I tucked in behind one runner, stopped only a couple of times for quick bathroom breaks off the trail. At the first turnaround, I counted nine runners ahead of me and between 5-7 behind me. 

It was in those early miles, under a sky lit only of headlamps, that I first felt the nausea creep in. It was mostly from my handheld dancing across the blackened sky my stomach turned. I made the decision to run with my light off, hoping the guy in front of me would have enough light I could follow. 

I did manage to trip 2 times even on a rail to trail. 

After the first 15 miles you take a turn on a leg of the course I would run 4 times, accumulating about 40 miles. It would be here on this stretch I would meet Patrick and his daughter manning an aid station. Without a cloud in the sky, I was heating up and kindly asked if I could dump my hydration pack off in a chair and pick it back up on my fourth leg out of the section, and he enthusiastically said "YEAH"!

I swapped out my tee-shirt for a tank top I had stashed in the back of my Salomon pack and headed down that stretch. 

It was also at one of those aid stations that I made a critical MISTAKE, I filled my handheld bottle with Tailwind. My bellies sworn enemy! 

I had already been struggling with the taste of the water on the course, but the Tailwind immediately flipped my stomach inside out and brought back vivid memories of Sulphur Springs, where I was sick for hours because of it. I tried to convince myself the calories would help me in the heat, but my body wasn't interested in that logic. 

Still, I kept moving. 

Coming through those aid stations, I made a point to bring smiles, even if they only came from my tank and hat! Seeing my friends running the 50K along the out-and-back sections reminded me I wasn't alone in the struggle. The heat was getting to all of us. 

The plan was to gradually slow: sub-11's for the first 20 miles, then adding 30seconds per mile to every 20 miles. I felt completely married to my watch, but it was my only running buddy I had out there. 

Somewhere in all this I decided to investigate an irritated spot on my belly, only to discover my skirt was on backwards! I had been running with my running skirt on backwards for over 40 miles! Not the first time I have done this. At that point, fixing it felt pointless, that would be a problem for later. 

By my final visit to Patrick's station, my skin felt like it was on fire, and I was dry heaving at the sight of food. I had already taken a five-minute break at a previous aid station, sitting in the grass just trying to regroup. At this point, another runner and I were leapfrogging each other, both of us looking equally green. 

I asked Patrick if he was going back to the finish line and when he said "YES", I asked if he would be willing to take my pack and tee-shirt back with him. The thought of another layer on my already roasted body seemed unbearable. 

Then came the low point. 

I only had about 15 miles to go. The runner I had been trading places with was sipping Coke while I was dry heaving. I tried to leave but my body shut down. I collapsed in the grass retching and vomiting bile. He looked my way and said, "Hope you feel better." and slowly disappeared down the trail.

Patrick stepped in again, ice in my hat, a cold rag around my neck, doing everything he could to cool me down. I just leaned into the grass wanting it to swallow me and closed my eyes. I laid there for about 5 minutes, fell asleep with prayers and a calmness. When I got back up, he handed me a half a banana, and somehow, I got moving again, catching up to the runner and even passing him one final time. 

I felt terrible because I knew he was struggling the same as me. The sun was scorching, and our wheels were coming off. 

I wouldn't throw up again until the finish line. 

From there, my pace slowed, my body temperature climbed, but somehow...I kept passing people. I knew the distance was over, 63.5 miles, and I knew I still had work to do. 

With about 4 miles to go, 2 bikers passed me shouting, "Hey, there's a bunch of girls waiting for you at the finish!"

That changed everything!

Knowing that my 13 girls were there gave me just enough push! There were no runners around me anymore and hadn't been for miles. Just me, the heat, a hefty breeze now, and a very unhappy stomach, but I still managed to run just with a lot more walking. 

And then I heard them.

Cowbells. Cheers. My clan! Lake Effect Legends, that's what we called ourselves. 

I was able to run it in, smiling for the photos, holding it together just long enough until I crossed the finish line.

12 hours and 34 minutes. 

And then PROMPTLY laid back in the grass while my body reminded me what it had just been through, sharing its final protest.  

I managed to finish 2nd place female. It was a small field, yes, but that didn't take away from what it meant to me. 

I didn't quit; I didn't give up. 

I am learning that I can run through nausea, through discomfort, through the things that don't go according to plan. 

Between the morning nausea from my handheld, the tailwind, wardrobe issues, the heat and cloudless sky, and the hours of running green it was a perfect storm. 

IN Closing, I am so proud of all 13 women who showed up and ran. EACH one has her own story, her own grit, and each one gave me something I carried with me through those 63.5 miles. 

The race was a front-row seat to the FAITHFULNESS of God.

He carried me when my body couldn't. 

He sustained me when I had nothing left. 

And crossing the finish line wasn't the END....

It was the BEGINNING of what's ahead for Western States! 

He's Not finished with ME Yet!!

In Peace, Not Pieces,

Anita