"Take Me Deeper than My Feet Could Ever Wander"

With each ultramarathon I race, I always ask, "Lord, what do you want out of this race?" I have always kind of asked this, but it has become more and more prevalent this season as I have tackled harder courses with stiffer competition. I want for God to be glorified and known throughout it all. 

Smith Rock Classic 50M with Alpine Running was no different, but this one had a significant personal goal: breaking my own course record. I currently hold it at 8:20:and something seconds (who cares about seconds). I was going to try to break 8 hours. My training was looking great. I was regularly heat-training, prepping for the elevation and heat of Bend, Oregon. I was doing lots of hill workouts, knowing the hilliness of the course would need it. Then a week before the race my ITB started acting up again. No! I prayed for healing and again asked God, "What do you want from this race?" I knew full well what I wanted--a miraculously healed ITB and a course record--and, truthfully, I was expecting God to agree with me. Yeah. Never ask the Almighty to agree with you on your own plans. He usually doesn't. Instead, God didn't give me a clear answer. He was rather silent, and I realized that I could fail at my goal. What! No. God, I need you to help me reach this goal. I need this. As I sat in church and contemplated potential failure, I had to make a decision. Would I trust God's grace, strength, and wisdom? Or would I fight His answer and become more anxious about my race? In that moment, I had to surrender and say, "As long as You're glorified. No matter the result." 

This is not merely the prayer of an athlete. This is a prayer of every follower of Jesus. Surrender is probably the hardest thing we are asked to do (or maybe that is just me). We like to be in control of our situations and lives, and, at least in the West, we like our independence and individuality. I am not saying that either of these things in and of themselves are bad. God gave us both when He made us, and I personally am a very independent woman and pride myself on my individuality. However, like all things, these have been corrupted by sin, and we refuse often times to recognize that maybe God knows better. Duh! Therefore, He doesn't ask us to surrender to Him out of a vindictive or authoritarian ego. Rather He asks for surrender out of love. "Will you let me fix this, child?" He says. "Trust Me. I know the way." This is very well seen in Chapter 18 of the Gospel of John in the Bible. A few hours before His arrest in the time in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus the Messiah begs for His life, asking the Father if there was another way to accomplish the salvation of humans. Woe. Woe. Woe. Jesus was pleading with God. Yet, with each pleading prayer He says, "Not My will but Yours be done." If Christ was willing to surrender to God in the crucifixion and resurrection for the greater purpose of saving humanity from sin and eternal damnation, then what business did I have telling God that His answer about my ultramarathon wasn't good enough. He knew what I ultimately needed, and in that I chose to trust Him.

Race day arrived. My ITB was feeling better, but I was still uncertain if it would last the 50 miles without pain. (It had been a slight problem on a Fastest Known Time 30 mile run 2 weeks prior.) The time I was trying to run would require a fairly grueling pace for an ultra (unless you're Courtney Dewaulter). I was going to need to go out fast and stay with my male competitors very early on. I geared up, kissed my husband farewell, and started the race. 

Within a few miles the lead pack of men passed me; however, I maintained contact with them, trailing behind. It is still early on in the race. Let them go. I maintained the pace I needed but could feel blisters forming on both of my feet by mile 7. Shoot! I entered the first aid station and took care of my blisters. I knew the importance of taking care of my feet, especially in a 50 mile race. Back on the trail I enjoyed the ebb and flow of the canyon of Smith Rock State Park. I hit the nearly 7 mile climb back to the ridge and pressed into it. I was on record pace and closing the gap with the lead men! 

At mile 21 I stopped again to take care of my blisters. Dang! Can't my feet just be fine. I ran myself to the transition aid station at mile 25ish where I would start my second loop of the course. Just one more to go! My husband met me there, and we reloaded me with fuel and hydration. It was heating up quickly, and I could feel myself overheating. We cooled me down, put ice in my pack, and sent me out. "It's time to push. Lord, help me on this last lap." A little way out from the aid station, my body and mind sagged. I felt weak, hot, and unmotivated. It's okay. Just keep moving. Relentless forward motion. I trudged up to the ridge and the next aid station, chanting as I went: 

 Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders...

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger 

In the presence of my Savior.

~ "Oceans" by Hillsong United ~

We sing worship songs like "Oceans" in church all the time. They sound beautiful and the words are Biblical, but are we truly ready to go "where trust is without borders" and "deeper than feet could ever wander"? The tune of this song is beautiful and relaxing, but, in all honesty, these are some scary lyrics because to produce these things, it requires hardship and challenge. "Trust without borders" requires being in a lion's den (Daniel 6). "Deeper than my feet could ever wander" requires courage to risk going before a king (Esther 5). "And my faith will be made stronger" requires singing in a prison (Acts 16). Yeah...None of these sound like super great situations. Yet, this is what we are asked to do. Not to purposefully go seek hardship (not a biblical concept unless you're running) but being open to God allowing these situations and trusting His divine purpose in them--to grow you and make you more like Him. 

I made it to the next aid station. They cooled me down with ice water, and feeling rejuvenated, I pushed the pace along the ridge. Unfortunately, in wetting me down my socks got wet too, and the rubbing of my blisters increased. The pain became excruciating. "Lord, please heal my feet!" I pleaded. I started the descent into the canyon, usually one of my best skills in a race, but the pain in my feet became debilitating. My stride changed, and I gimped down to the canyon floor. As I approached the aid station I called to my husband to get me a new pair of socks from my running tub. (For which I think he ran one of the fastest miles of his life. He's a good husband.) Along with the new socks, a medic wrapped my blisters. I hoped it would be the end of my foot problems. I headed back onto the course with 18 miles to go. I was still barely on record pace but could not afford any more problems. My time cushion was thinning. 

Unfortunately, despite the wrapping, my blisters did not improve. Each step was painful, but I knew there was no way out but through. I just had to keep moving. It was also getting extremely hot. I drank regularly to hold off dehydration, but the heat was oppressive. I finished my final large climb of the course and started the 8 miles of rolling hills to the finish. Almost done. Hang on just a little more. The heat was working its will. I wasn't cooling down and was starting to feel sick. I have taken enough First Aid classes and been in enough outdoor situations to know I was in a dangerous place. My fluids were running low. "Lord, please get me to the next aid station!" 

I arrived at the final aid station. I was 4.5 miles from the finish! However, I was overheating terribly, bordering on heat exhaustion. The crew dumped water on me, and I left the aid station with renewed purpose--getting home. I estimated the miles as I went, counting them down. I needed to get home.

Finally, after 51 miles (the course is long) and 8:55: 37 seconds on the course, I crossed the finish line. I can't say those final miles were fast. Far from it. I didn't break my own record. I missed it by 35 minutes. My feet weren't miraculously healed. Every step was pure pain for 44 miles. But I had surrendered everything to the Lord, allowed Him to "lead me where my trust [was] without borders and "take me deeper than my feet could ever wander" (my feet would have much rather have quit long before then), and done it all "in the presence of my Savior."

God doesn't always allow us to achieve our dreams. It is absolutely not for a lack of love. Rather it is because He has His own dreams for us. Better ones. Dreams of us being more like Him and, remarkably, a truer and better version of ourselves. This race did not achieve any big dream of a course record or a possible sponsorship, but it achieved a new level of grit and determination in the hard times that no win can ever truly give.