Running the Dead Ends

We hear the words “dead end”, and it typically elicits a negative emotion. Dang. Really?! It ends?! We are typically frustrated with such results and wonder where we went wrong. What did I miss? But what if we didn’t miss anything when we arrive at a dead end in life? What if that is actually the road we were supposed to take? Wait a second. That seems counterproductive. Dead ends are perceived as wasting valuable time (and mileage) that we could be moving forward. So dead ends can’t be good, can they? I would have at one point have offered the same strong objections against dead ends in life. I have places to be! Things to do! But what I am slowly beginning to comprehend is that dead ends are sometimes the most beneficial and life-giving routes we can take. 

I started out on a trail run just two weeks before Black Canyon 100K. I had been quite sick the previous week and wanted to start getting my mileage back up. I started at the trailhead to the Swiftwater Section of the North Umpqua, choosing to do a bridge-and-back run (ask me if you want to know what this is). I made it maybe three-quarters of a mile before a tangled blockade of trunks and branches lay before me. Well, I am not going that way today. I turned around and headed for the logging road. I had been running the Swiftwater logging road a lot lately and wished for something other than running straight up for 1,500 feet. I settled on running every spur road to its end as I ran up the mountain. The first four spurs were familiar to me. I had run them several times before. Soon I was on spur roads I hadn't ever been on. Instead of becoming boring and frustrating, running each new spur became an adventure, wondering how far it would go and where it would lead. As I ran down a spur leading me back down toward the river, I was struck with how beautiful and wonderful it was to be running somewhere "new," but I also began to think about how running these dead-end roads provided a brand-new perspective on the landscape. I was seeing the river and timber unites from a vantage point I had never had before which offered a new sense of beauty. In that moment I was struck by the idea, "What if when we hit dead ends in life, we have not taken a wrong turn but are exactly where God wants us?" If just running dead-end spur roads can provide a whole new sense of adventure, wonder, and vantage point, could dead ends in life provide the same things?

I wondered at these ideas as I ran and thought over the previous week. In just two weeks my husband had inquired, applied, and been hired by the Christian International School of Prague (CISP) and I was waiting to be interviewed. Wait, a second. We're headed to the mission field? As I looked out over the new views of the same landscape I had been running for years, my perspective on the dead ends I have had over the last several years regarding missions began to take on new meaning. After returning to the States in 2018 from Indonesia due to extreme mental health issues, life seemed to have hit a dead end. I felt stuck and trapped. I was nowhere I wanted to be. I turned around from that dead end and soon found another road. I applied with the mission group Frontiers, was accepted, and began the training process. It seemed likely I would be back on the mission field by 2021. Things were moving forward. Then I hit another dead end. My mental health was still not where it needed to be, and I had to step away from missions again. That spur took me longer to run back to the main road, and I spent the whole time wondering what had gone wrong. I am supposed to do missions. Lord, what are you doing? You said missions. The dead ends continued. I would feel God leading me to run a road that would soon dead end--pursuing missions again with Frontiers, my dating relationship with my now husband, stepping away from Frontiers, pursuing missions with Pioneers... I couldn't understand it all and prayed constantly on my training runs, "Jesus, what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?" But as I ran the literal dead-end roads that day, I noticed a subtle shift in my thinking. Each of those dead ends in life was necessary to get me to this new place of pursuing missions in Prague, Czechia. Each "dead end" had showed me more about God, more about myself, more about others, and more about the world. Each dead end served a purpose to refine me into the woman God was and is creating me to be and leading me to a greater understanding of Himself. 

But this lesson didn't just change my perspective on life, it would be truly proven at Black Canyon 100K two weeks later. I was trained and slated to run 9 hours, hopefully making top five. Everything looked right for me to do so. Then hour by hour (metaphorical dead end after dead end) that time and placement slipped away. An unexpected snowstorm delayed the start by 2.5 hours (7:00 am to 9:30 am). Suddenly I was prepping in case of being caught in the dark. Transportation issues with the race shuttles prevented a warm-up. I hurried off the bus, marked my drop bags as fast as I could, and sprinted to the start with 30 seconds to spare. The melting snow made the first 7 or 8 miles a total muck fest (thankfully I am from the PNW). The torrential rains of the previous days in Arizona had multiplied the river crossings to 4. A very technical, rocky trail slowed me as I lacked the experience for it (PNW girl, remember?). I finally made it to Table Mesa Aid Station and prepped myself for the final 12.4 miles in the dark. I hate running in the dark and my body doesn’t like it either, but I moved out with some other runners for the finish. A mile out I realized my headlamp was hardly shedding any light as I led the pack. The batteries were dying! Seriously?! I nabbed my iPhone out of my pack, turned on the flashlight app, and continued on. But the lack of light slowed me as I ran off balance with hands full and toes kicking rocks. I crossed the finish in 11:31 as the 28th female and completely untested. 

It would have been very easy to see this race as a dead end. I was nowhere near the women I had wanted to attempt to run with and my time was ridiculously far behind my goal. But...I feel like I ran so smart! I probably managed my hydration and nutrition the best I ever have on any ultra. I held back to run easy (9ish/mile) the first 50K. I was in and out of aid stations quickly, in spite of having no crew. I pushed the second half and felt comfortable in the pain. I set new goals as others became unattainable. I went after people on the hills, barely walking any of the race (thank you, Bar L Ranch Road and your 3 miles of incline). Therefore, I was able to return home, seeing Black Canyon 100K not as a dead end but as a beginning.