Life As A Los Angelino: You Choose Your Battles

(YEAH! Based on my determination, heel strike, and Honey Stinger guy's game face, I'm guessing this was around mile 12. #DyingInUnison)

When "life happens", as I often refer to the inevitable, I find myself wanting to run away, versus pressing into the nitty gritty and enduring the challenges it brings. 

Hello; my name is Anna Gray, and I hate pain and difficulty.

I wish I could say that I naturally accept life as it is and embrace the grit, but the truth is that it has been a (long) work in progress - and especially when those "worst case scenarios" come true. Since moving to Los Angeles, I can say that I have never been met with more challenges - yes, including those worst case scenario nightmares - and been forced to simply wait, endure, and accept the fact that those times will likely have a little pain and suffering tied in. Remember the day before I moved to CA, those 3 car accidents, and slightly neurotic people I talked about?  This past Sunday - the same day of all things parties, chicken wings, and buff men in tights hoisting pigskins across a field - was a day that will remain instilled in my brain for probably the rest of my life.

I ran a half marathon; but it honestly wasn't the fact that I ran a half that stands out. Actually, there really was nothing impressive that I (personally) accomplished. Sure, I PRd from my first one, but I've run a bunch of 5Ks, a half, and even a full 26.2 before, so I knew what to expect. Rather, it is the series of (unfortunate) events leading up to it, and what I learned from it.

2 years ago, I ran a marathon, and silently swore to myself I would never do so again. I didn't even have a desire to run again after it was over. Over the span of that time until October of 2018, I would run a few miles here and there, just for my own pleasure and to stay in shape. When I moved to LA, the new chaos of everything was overwhelming, and so I sought something that would push me in a healthy way, and also something that I could feel accomplished and driven by. After watching Sully run, hearing his enthusiasm of his new times and team and the sport, and watching everyone race, the clouds parted, rays of heavenly beams shone down, and I had a revelation of enlightenment:

You should train for a marathon and qualify for Boston!

Sully - bless him - has been, and forever will be, perhaps, the biggest encourager of big, daunting things I crave to accomplish. He has been all for helping me to qualify, but we both agreed that lest I try and conquer 26.2 miles as an individual who is NOT used to high mileage...a half would be a better pick to start with (But HARK! Boston is very much on my radar.;)) So, I decided on the Surf City half marathon in Huntington Beach, CA. It was "flat and fast", coastal, 4 months away, so it seemed darn near perfect. And so, a new pair of kicks, some spiffy new running gear, and a customized training plan by my better half/built in coach (perks of dating a seasoned runner #NoComplaints), I set my goal time to 1:45. This was the first training cycle that I actually slept well, ate correctly (as in, more than rice cakes and granola bars), and saw real improvement in how I ran and how I felt.

I went from chronically running 9 & 10 minute miles 2 years ago, to running 8 minute miles this past year. And then I went from running 8 minute miles, to running 7 minute miles. I was prescribed speed work, mid distance long runs, tempo runs (still mixed feelings about these), and of course, weekend long runs. Fun fact: I had never run on a track my entire life until this. I also texted Sully and asked him to translate what the heck this weird tempo run thing was the first day. But what can I say? Practice makes progress. ;) I went from struggling to hold an 8:00 flat pace for 5 miles, to averaging 7:38 on a 10 mile long run, and it not actually hurting too bad. I even clocked in my last mile at 6:50! What was this madness?! Everything was too good to be true!

 I ran a 13 mile long run in 1:40, shaving 5 minutes off of my goal pace in training, and with much determination and a mustard seed of faith, set out for an even bigger PR: I wanted to run the Surf City Half in 1:35. Sully 100% believed in me, and I actually began to believe in myself. I also found out that the Surf City half was a course that Sully and another girl on his team would be running to try and qualify for the NAIA's national marathon, so it was this moment of, "HOW FUN! My first ever endurance race with Sully! Whoo!"

Everything seemed almost too good to be true. Everything had been working out perfectly, down to the details of roadtripping to the race. "But what if ______ actually happened?" I would toss around every now and then - ya know, the "life happening" inevitable? I didn't dwell on them though. I rested in contentment for what was planned. I think it was sheer Divinity that I happened to be reading in Hebrews 11 before work the day before the race though - "By Faith". I had begun to feel that self doubt and worry creep in, and so I spent most of the weekend rebuking the Enemy, feeding my soul via Scripture, and clicking over to Desiring God . And you know, I'm glad I did, because when I say EVERY single, tiny aspect that could have gone wrong went wrong....yes, all of those "what ifs?" coming true...it was literally everything.

I got 4ish hours of sleep 2 nights before. And everyone who's run a half or a full knows how crucial #BeautySleep is....and especially the days leading up to it.

My work schedule the day before was jam packed with 6 back to back to back clients, and struggling to shovel in carbs in between.

I checked my phone in between clients, only to receive the news that I wouldn't be able to ride with Sully and his team, due to a mishap with the van.

"Well, there goes my fantasy of saving on gas, resting a little while longer, feeling the peace of not having to drive for an hour and a half [guys - I am in my car probably 90% of my time here in LA...literally my hip flexors are tight from driving], and now getting to figure out where the heck to park in a marathon of 20,000 people!" *tears*

Fatigued, nursing a migraine, and trying to remain zen whilst anticipating 2 more 1 hour massages, I felt my eyes leak.

"Ok, but if I can just get a good night's sleep tonight..."

Knock on wood.

I slept for under an hour that night. I'm not kidding. I jumped in bed at 7:36PM, tossed and turned for 2 hours, dozed, woke up at 10:22, only to realize very quickly that sleep was not going to come.

"If only I can just get 1 more hour...just 2 hours of sleep..."

And friends - I laid there, wide awake, until 3AM, when my alarm was set for. In 2 days time, I did not even get a full night's worth of good, rejuvenating sleep. I googled articles of Elite marathoners who (quite literally) ran on 2 hours or less of sleep, so around 2AM, I decided that trying to force sleep to come, only to try and wake up from a deep rest and potentially shake more exhaustion...that I would just relax, and stop fighting my body. 

I said some choice words when I got up, and deliberated my life decisions. To run, or not to run. You know that feeling when you are fueled by such little sleep, that you feel like you're recovering from a nasty flu or something? My head was pounding, my eyes were burning, and my body literally hurt from lack of sleep and holding so much stress. Rick Grimes would have definitely hunted me down.

I got up, made a good pre-race breakfast + a cup of jo..and you know? I actually began to feel good. I felt a Holy surge of energy and peace, and decided right then and there, that sleep or no sleep, I was going to run that half marathon at my goal pace, PR at 1:35, and have fun. At 3:30, I got dressed, laced up my shoes, and grabbed my watch. I noticed that it was a blank screen. I had charged it 2 days prior, and literally had not used it since. In fact, I charged it 2 days ahead, so I would have the pre-peace of mind that it wasn't dead.

Well, my friends, my dear Garmin has been seeing the end of its days for a while, and 30 minutes before I left to follow Sully and his team to the course...my watch flicked on that dreadful "Low Battery" prompt, and shut off. 

"Oh, sh*t."

I frantically texted Sully and asked if he knew of ANYONE with an extra watch. 

I didn't hear back, so I grabbed my watch, charger, and plugged it into my car's charging outlet, praying for the best. I was 99% positive that THIS was surely the day it would not regain any charge.

I decided that with all of the inevitables stacking up, odds against me, that I was not meant to run this race. I cranked up my car and cried. I looked up for a moment and asked God WHY all of this was happening. I had worked hard, I had done workouts when I really didn't want to, I had pushed past so many barriers, I had trained for this dang thing for MONTHS, I had improved far beyond what Sully even had in mind, I PAID $120 FOR A STUPID 13.1 RACE; SO THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE REDEMPTIVE, GOSH DARN IT! WHY was all of this happening?!?!

It was a very dramatic moment. 

Oh, and en route to meet Sully and his team, it was torrentially downpouring, flooding on the freeway (seriously - WHY does it always rain during dramatic moments?!), and as I frantically called Sully, crying, my little Nissan Rogue was fishtailing all over the 405. Good times! 

I told Sully everything that had happened, and that I honestly thought I was going to turn around and not come. 

"I think this race is meant to be yours; not mine."

There was a frustrated pause.

"Anna.....ok.....I rebuke that. Get over here. You're running this."

I just told Sully (who is sitting beside me as I type these words;)) that if I ever had a nanosecond of hatred in my heart towards him, it was in that very moment. But I mean, hey, I was powered by about 45 minutes of sleep, dealing with a watch that might not work, and fishtailing on one of the busiest freeways in the USA at 4:00 in the morning on top of it. I called my mother, (You guessed it!) still crying, and being the wise woman she is, told me 1) She couldn't make the decision for me, and that it really was an "AG & God" kind of a final say. 2) That she, my dad, and a friend would pray for me to make the right decision. 3) To perhaps still drive to the race location, and then see how I felt.

A few of Sully's lively, chipper teammates rode with me, and it actually was a huge blessing to have the positive energy after my rough night and start to the day. 

"So are you running the race too?!"

I told them that I was still undecided, due to my series of (very) unfortunate events and lack of sleep, and that I would decide when I saw the course. I was feeling relatively well once I saw that my Garmin had some charge in it and was functioning, and immediately absorbed a lot of that "pre race energy" just by seeing the "START" and "FINISH" line, the roar of people, and the excitement all around Huntington Beach. I told God, many, MANY times that I literally could not do this without His strength. I fully intended to struggle through the course, maintain an 8:00 pace, and for my new goal to be to simply finish it. 

"Anna, if you tell yourself that you're going to struggle through this, you will. But if you tell yourself that even though you didn't sleep well and don't feel your best, but you're still going to run this and PR anyway...then you will. It's up to you...but I'd like to see you finish what you've started." And Sully was right. My brain fog started clearing up, and I felt a whole new anticipation.

(^Caption This^)

I told myself that I COULD and was FULLY capable of running that 7:15-7:20/mile pace. I had done it before, my body remembered it, and I was going to do it again. Sully and I hopped over the fence to jump to the front of the Start line, and I looked up at the sky, begged God for strength to feel good and finish, witnessed Sully's teammate pluck a stray hair from an Elite woman's booty shorts (it was a beautiful moment), and just like, the race began. Miles 1-8, I felt surprisingly great. I was set to run a 1:35 at the 5K, and then a 1:37 at the 10K. At the halfway mark/turn around point, this "flat & fast" half turned out to have quite an array of hills and unexpected incline. Sully, his teammate, and I drove to the part of the course that supposedly had the majority of the hills at the expo 2 days prior, which was around 3 &  4. Had I known that it would be hilly the second half, I would have started at least 20 seconds slower. As I realized both the splits I had clocked in and the 4 miles left, I glanced down at my watch,

"Well; this is gonna hurt!"

By mile 9, I was dying hardcore. I had NEVER hit a wall like this; even in training. During my first marathon, I fell a part at mile 17...so to fall a part at a mile that should still feel totally familiar and attainable...it was quite a humbling moment. One of Sully's teammates, who ran along 10 miles of the course as moral support for his teammate trying to qualify, ran beside me for a bit.

"I'm hitting a wall so hard."

And BOY, did I hit a wall. Miles 9-11, I was struggling to keep a jogging pace; and by mile 12, I was dusted by a guy in a unicorn costume. I had started far faster than I could maintain for half marathon course that I thought would begin to lose elevation. I crossed the finish line with a 1:43; 3 minutes slower than I had run in a training run.

"What a slap in the face," I thought.

Sully and his teammate experienced the same "dark place" I did around miles 9-13 with the unexpected hills and crazy, Pacific Coast wind, and legs dying freakishly bad. I had trained and prayed so hard for this - for all 3 of us - and now here we were, let down by the reality that crushed our dreams and expectations.

(Post race; post nap. We realized we didn't get a photo together at the course, so we decided to #twin with a good 'ole mirror selfie, ft. a box of band-aids and my race bib on the counter.)

My half marathon was nothing I hadn't done before. I've run 13.1 miles many, MANY times. 1:43 is a pretty average time, even if it was technically a "race PR". Everything I did - "war story" and all - was nothing impressive. Nothing spectacular. But I learned something.

I went into that half wondering if all of the odds stacked against me was the ENEMY trying to keep me from doing it, or a HOLY NUDGE telling me to endure, despite the mess. I think that often times, we immediately dub the inevitable and things falling a part as "signs" that we shouldn't be doing something. Sometimes that's the case. But you know what else? I also believe that often times, the odds against us are Divinely put in place to bring us to the point of falling to our knees and surrendering our fleshly control to Jesus. I think that pain, suffering, trials, valleys, temptations, and worst case scenarios are often those times we need not run away, but instead, press in.

I am quick to run away from the mess, and make assumptions and call it quits before I see the full story unfold. I am quick to seek comfort, make rash decisions, and let life coddle me and play it safe, rather than just seeing what's around the corner. At mile 11, I felt that whopping 45 minutes of sleep catch up, my legs slow down, and my diaphragm knot up. I saw 1:35 pass by, and then 1:38, and then 1:40. I legitimately was a nanosecond away from ripping off my race bib, and walking the sidewalk to the finish.

But a little voice in my head said, "Do NOT stop running. You've come this far and you've trained hard for this...why should you stop now? Even if you have to jog...keep going. You're almost there. Just keep your legs moving."

I'm here to tell you the same thing. Life has this funny way of making you think that you are going to arrive at a certain destination at a certain time in a certain manner under certain conditions...but the harsh reality often crushes those dreamy expectations. You can prepare and work hard and do everything to your utmost ability, but it's when the plot twist occurs, that really makes or breaks you. It's easy to look at how you thought things would unfold and where you should be - but what do you do when you're burned out? Exhausted? Ready to give up? Bone tired? Emotionally scarred? Feeling the weight of reality shatter the expectations that won't be happening? What do you do when life's odds seem to be against you and you're not reaping what you've sowed and you're physically, mentally, and spiritually falling a part and ready to call it quits? Do you hide? Do you curse the darkness and run away?

Or do you choose to stay and keep your legs moving, despite the mess.

I think that often times, a season is going to hurt, but it's that same whisper of, "I want you to finish this. Even if you have to crawl...Pick yourself back up. Keep moving. I want you to FINISH what you've STARTED."

Do you press in? Even when your circumstances don't look very promising? Even when you aren't seeing fruit?

My flesh prefers to wallow in self pity and rationalize how and why I can play it safe and take the easy route. But my spirit prefers to press into the pain, walk (or run;)) by Faith, and trust that the Creator behind that invisible, heavenly veil is far more powerful than my earthly surroundings - even when it hurts. My spirit declares that it's flicker of light is just enough in the darkness, and prays that silent prayer, "Lord, help me to endure."

You choose your battles.

So which will you choose? 

(Oh, and P.S. - Life lessons and all, I still fully intend to run my little heart out in another half marathon in a few weeks and get that 1:35. ;) And I also fully intend to qualify for Boston before 2020. #GodWilling ;))