Later

What do you do when your running is suffering (utterly failing), you doubt that you even want to do it anymore, and you can’t find time to pull your wits together and figure out what to do about it?  Well, um . . . you get out there and run when you can, and figure it out later.  That’s what I say.  Later.

Later.  I like that word.

Let it be said. Let it be done. 

Monday, after making lunches and breakfasts I took off out my front door for a run along the southern beaches.  Word was, waves had been ten to twelve feet the days prior.  Although we live a mere half mile from the sand, I had not ventured down to see the spectacular show.  Monday, the waves were still strong, but evidence of the past day’s destruction was stronger.  What used to be asphalt parking lots were covered with sand and rocks.  The volleyball courts in the sand were washed away.  Cement benches and trash receptacles were strewn about like toys. 

I had to pick up my pace some to get home in time.  In all, I ran 5.12 miles (8.24 km), with a lovely flat 171’ (52.12’) of elevation gain.  After this, I picked up boy number one from school, prepped to teach a PowerPoint class, then picked up boy number two, showered, dressed, ate dinner and drove off to teach my one class for the day. 

I did not get out again until Thursday – and it took several hours after waking at 6AM.  Of course there were lunches to pack, breakfasts to make, boys to drop off at school, not to mention two cups of coffee to down.  But I also needed to do some grocery shopping.  Finally at about 10:30 AM, I hit the trails in Aliso/Wood Canyons for a good-size loop up to Top of The World for a grand view of the Pacific Ocean.  Word was that rain would fall soon, but the skies were blue when I set off.  Fearing rain, not to mention being squeezed for time, I cut Wood Canyon short and ran up Mathis – the very first trail I ever took to the top.  Honestly, I hiked much of Mathis on Thursday, and I was okay with that.  Hell, it’s pretty close to a miracle that I can make it up Mathis without crawling, or stooping beneath the shade of a shrub and sobbing for that matter.  

In all, I put in 9.3 miles (14.97 km) with 1,140’ (347.47 m) of elevation gain. Mere sprinkles of rain fell during it all, but winds were strong.   Back at home, I showered and got ready for an AB86 meeting at the local community college in a record fifteen minutes.  (I didn’t have time to do my hair, but I was clean. I jumped in the truck barefoot, knowing that I had some black pumps in the back seat, and drove my oldest up at the high school for a study session as I headed off to my meeting.  Hardy laugh . . .  when I got a fright after my son peered toward the back seat and said, “Why is there only one shoe on the seat?”  He knew I was rushed and thought that was a funny joke.  Me, not so much so.)

Friday, I spent all day at a seminar, of which I was a break-out group facilitator.  After the break-out session, I presented our discussion in front of the entire seminar crowd.  And when I didn’t think that I would feel nervous at all (because I am so used to speaking in front of groups of adults), I found myself quite nervous.  That wiped me out.  I mean, really!  I am 50 years old, I speak in front of people lot of times!  However, speaking in front of students is a completely different thing than speaking in front of colleagues and superiors in your field.  Whew!  I crashed hard Friday night. 

Finally, this morning (Saturday) I hit the trails again around 11 AM in Las Flores.  I took Tijeras Creek Trail down to Arroyo Trabuco Trail (a semi-usual stomping ground).  With a down pour of rain on Friday, I hoped for full creeks.  But alas, they flowed only slightly fuller than the last time I visited these trails. 

It was a difficult time this morning with dark cloudy skies.  I felt tired and depressed, but I put my head down (I know, bad form) and ran nonetheless.  At one point, I came up on a man carrying a giant cross covered with red and white roses on this lonely trail.  Following closely behind him were at least one-hundred other hikers, many with red and white roses in their hair.  How odd this felt to encounter so many other people on a trail that I rarely see one other soul.   Their presence was so spectacular I wanted to snap a photo, but then re-thought that, since they were on some type of religious journey.  I didn’t want to intrude on that.  They definitely lifted my spirits for part of this run.   I always fin it uplifting to encounter other travelers along a lonely road. 

Chubby me, hitting the trails (and I don’t mean chubby as a derogatory term, but merely a descriptive word because I am a little frustrated about being out-of-shape – but I will overcome!):

I got in 9.72 miles (15.64 km) today along Arroyo Trabuco, with 650’ (198.12 m) of elevation gain.  The week’s not over, and my feet managed twenty-four miles running.  And as usual, I am definitely better for it.  Later I will think about what the hell I am doing and what my plans are.  Until then . . . I will smile.  That’s all I can promise, a smile. 

Big Plans

Got three runs in this week.  Monday, I had big plans.  I always have big plans.  But my big plans got shortened (surprise, surprise!), this time by chores – making breakfast, lunches, grocery shopping, laundry, etc., etc.  While I had hoped for at least fifteen miles, I got in a good 10 miles along Arroyo Trabuco Trail – a nice long, out-and-back.  I was sluggish, and felt very weak during most of it.  And what began with a slight sore throat, ended up with with an even more sore throat, plus a dash of watery eyes, a cough and congestion.  Woe is me.    Still, the scenery was beautiful.  It always is. 

Arroyo Trabuco Trail, out-and-back, 10.01 miles (16.11 km)

My cold worsened over the next few days.  With work, catching pollywogs with my youngest son, and everything else continuing on, I had little rest.  I yearned though to get out there – with so little time on my feet, I am really struggling to keep any fitness at all. 

Friday, I hit the trails in Wood Canyon regardless of the runny nose and sneezing.  I figured I’d run through the canyon and see how I felt.  If I felt crappy, I’d turn around for a 6 mile total out-and-back.  Turns out, I felt pretty good at the end of the canyon.  So, I turned into Aliso Canyon and headed on up Meadows Trail.  Big mistake (well, actually it wasn’t that bad, because I lived and all).  The view of Saddleback Mountains was extraordinary though, so I thought for the moment, that it was all worthwhile.  (Still, I had about 6 miles today in big heat!)

Looking at the Saddleback Mountains from the top of Meadows Trail:

I ran with little enthusiasm toward Alta Laguna Park, which is the entrance back into Aliso/Wilderness.  The heat was relentless, as it seemed to yank the energy right from my body.  At the park, I drenched my face and hair with cool water from the park bathroom’s sink.  Then, with little shade during those last three miles, I needed to stop and stoop down beneath shrubs to cool down.  10.48 miles run (10.94 km), 1,225’ gained. 

Sitting in what little shade I could muster:

Waiting for me outside my truck: 

Saturday, I taught a class that ran from 9:00 AM until 3:30 PM.  Home at after 4 PM, I was in no shape for a running.  I went straight to the couch and slept.  Sunday, still a bit under the weather, I slept in.  After two cups of coffee, some breakfast, and cough and cold medicine, I was ready for a small jaunt along the trails.  About 2PM, I headed back out to Aliso/Wood Canyons for an out-and-back into Wood Canyon, up Cholla Trail, and West Ridge to Top of the World.  I felt much better and strong on this run.  Hallelujah!  6.8 miles (10.94 km),  with a 961’ gain.

Running West Ridge on the back portion of this out-and-back:

I ran 27.29 miles (43.92 km) this week, all of those on trails.  I’m glad for that.  And I won’t cry over the fact that I did not realize my plans.  I have another set of big plans for next week. 

Breaking Forty

Well, I did it.  This week I finally broke forty miles.  There was a time when that was common place.  Not anymore.  Imagine, I even contemplated throwing in the towel again – reminding myself that I don’t have to run.   At any time, I can chose to NOT run.  I find it healthy to remember this.  Well, it took me four runs to get in 44.4 miles, and I am glad for it (not to mention a tiny bit optimistic).

Monday (April 13), I drove up the coast through Laguna Beach then up Newport Coast for a run out of Ridge Park.  I took the long way because I didn’t want to pay the $6.50 toll.  I ran 11.78 miles (18.96 km) in total, taking off from Bommer Ridge, then El Moro Ridge where I stopped off at a World War II bunker and headed down B.F.I. (Big Friggin’ Incline).

I couldn’t resist running beneath the highway (Pacific Coast Highway) for a close-up look at the ocean.  After some relaxing time listening to the waves roll in and out, I headed up through the campground to check it out for a possible family outing.  Nice campgrounds, but no campfires allowed.  No campfires!  Can you imagine camping without a fire? 

After the campgrounds, I made the difficult three mile uphill trek back to the car.  So worn out was I that I didn’t care about a stinkin’ $6.50 toll and drove the toll road back home. 

Thursday (April 16), I ran out the front door for a run down at the beach.  I saw a woman pulling her huge luggage on wheels behind her up Pacific Coast Highway.  She asked directions as I passed her on the road and I could tell even behind her dark glasses that she was bawling her eyes out.  I helped pull her luggage back up the highway, and used her phone to call the bank she was trying to locate.  Turns out the bank was much too far for this woman to walk, especially with all her heavy luggage.  I contemplated walking her back to my house so that I could drive her, but I didn’t need to, because while I phone, the bank manager said that he’d drive out to pick her up.  I walked the recently widowed woman up the highway further and waited with her until the bank manager showed.  When he arrived, he appeared like a knight-in-shining-armor – tall, dark and handsome.  (I did get the details on this woman’s situation, as we had a lot of time to talk.  The details are so sad and too complicated to relay here, and though, I feared “handing” her off to a stranger, I got his name and make of car, and felt overall confident that he was safe).  This small adventure derailed my running plans, but I was able to get in 5.30 miles (8.53 km) along the California Coast. 

Friday (April 17), I planned for a long run, setting out in Aliso Canyon around ten AM.  The skies were blue and the tall brown grass sang in the wind. From Wood Canyon, I quickly turned onto Meadows Trail (my old-time favorite) and ran along the overgrown single-track to Mentally Sensitive Trail.  The trek up that steep trail was excruciating.  It took me about twenty minutes longer than usual.  That was a good thing, because before I had a chance to commit to my long loop, I received a text from my husband stating that his car didn’t start.  This meant that I had make a smaller loop, heading back down Meadows for a nice long switchback down into Wood Canyon.  I got 7.69 miles in (12.38 km) and made it to my youngest son’s school just in time for his pick-up. 

Saturday (April 18), I was back at Aliso/Wood Canyons (this time at 12:30 PM)  for a long run up Wood Canyon, Cholla and West Ridge to Top of the World.  That was about 7.25 miles of hot uphill running.  On the ridge I ran through a swarm of bees, which startled me at first.  But then the scene brought back lovely memories of running through swarms of bees on trails in years past.  At The Top of the World, I took in the view and then turned around and headed back the same way for a total of 14.53 miles (23.38 km).  This run kicked my butt.  But when I calculated my week’s totals back at home, I came in a little over 39 miles.  This meant of course, I needed to get out one more day this week. 

Sunday – today! (April 19), I ran straight out the front door at about 3 PM and ran 5.10 miles (8.21 km) along the beach.  It was a tough run, but easy terrain-wise.  I kept up a decent pace, but felt still slightly sluggish. And that was it – my forty miles done – happily struggling along, “embracing the suck,” every last mile of it. 

Explore Mode

I am so flippin’ bored of running in the coastal hills that when I pulled up to Aliso / Wood Canyon Wilderness this morning, I wanted to choke myself.  Choke myself!  Seriously.  I did not want to run those trails AGAIN.  I contemplated getting out of my truck and plopping down in the grass alongside the road and just laying there, staring up at the blue sky.  I didn’t want to stay, but I also didn’t dare drive back home, else I implode in self-condemnation. 

The other day I witnessed a woman carrying a big stick as she ran into Wood Canyon.  I remembered then fondly the days I used to be afraid of running these trails alone.  Today, I could barely stomach going out on the same trails that I have run again and again and again.  Yet, somehow I managed to strap on my vest and cross the street and enter Aliso/Wood Canyons Wilderness Park.

I piddle-paddled in and about the native plant garden off of Aliso Creek Trail.  I admired the cacti and pretty coastal flowers.  I sat at one of the many loveseats and snapped a photo, and I took in an antique harvester used on this enormous ranch so many years ago.   

And then I came up on a staircase and make-shift bridge across the creek.  I took the pathway over to Aliso Creek Trail East, a trail that I have not much explored due to the fact that it’s not on the park map, and it didn’t seem to lead anywhere interesting, nor attach to any other trails. 

And I ran, but not hurriedly, and not caring one single bit about pace.  I stopped when I wanted, explored little paths, and noticed my usual trails from afar.  I ran up on a beehive farm that I discovered a couple years ago.  I approached cautiously and saw several swarms of bees hovering about the drawers.  Then I was off again, determined to run this trail to its end.  Maybe, I hoped, it would lead out of the canyon to the other side in Laguna Beach. 

From there I went into explore mode – my old way of trail running before I knew practically every coastal trail in my parts by heart.  And though this trail wasn’t anything to write home about, it was still beautiful, I worked up a decent sweat and best of all got some exploring.  This trail eventually dead-ended deep in the canyon at a water treatment plant.  I could find no clear way around it.  But, on my return, I got in some good old-fashioned bushwhacking in search for a way back across the creek.  I never found a passage way, but I found handfuls of clamshells, lots of dead-end single tracks and awesome solitude. 

Today’s total run lasted 7.5 miles, approximately five miles shorter than I originally set out for.  But heck, I’m happier with this lower mileage because I got to see new things.  And I love new things, and I love to bushwhack, and I love to explore. 

Coming out of some bushwhacking, I stood in awe at the beauty of this scene.  The picture doesn’t really do it justice, one reason is because you can’t hear the wind rustling through the leaves. 

The Devil Wears Cholla Cactus

Okay, I’m wondering if the English translation for Cholla is SATAN.  I’ve come across many things on the trail, and I’ve learned to stay away from many of those things – like say for example, Stinging Nettle. You would have thought by now, I would have learned about Cholla Cactus, AKA Jumping Cholla.  I have after all, run Cholla Trail on countless occasions.  But I have only admired this treacherous plant from afar.  That is, until Tuesday morning. 

There I was, minding my own business, running along Aliso Creek Trail in Aliso Canyon and I passed by a Cholla in bloom.  It has such a lovely (deceitful) flower.  I stopped and went back to snap a photo.  I took one from afar, then I pushed in close, stepping beneath the lower branches for a close-up.   

I stepped away oblivious to what had transpired beneath the bush.  But I realized right away with the first step that I took.  Ouch!  It felt like needles were poking the bottom of my foot.  I glanced down to see that I had stepped on a fallen Cholla branch.  And I could not kick it off.  After some attempts using my other foot, I managed to break the branch away.  What remained were dozens of Cholla thorns penetrating the soles of my shoes – poking ALL THE WAY THROUGH the insoles.  I could not take another step without prickly pain.  AND my attempts at releasing the thorns were futile.  They poked quick and deep into my fingertips, drawing immediate blood.  I took a rock and tried to shave off the Cholla thorns.  But that only broke them at the surface, still leaving them deep in my shoe.  Finally, I found a thick branch that I used to pry the suckers out of my shoes. 

STILL!  One little thorn dug into my forefoot after I put my shoe back on and tried to run.  After unlacing them two or three more times and trying to dislodge the unseen thorn with my bloody fingers, I sat at the side of the trail nearly beaten.  Forty-five minutes already wasted dealing with these demons, I whimpered a bit before pulling myself back in the game.  “It’s just an obstacle,” I told myself.  “Figure out a way!” 

When I walked I could not feel the thorn.  When I ran, it jabbed hard into my forefoot.  Obviously, it was buried beneath the insole padding.    So instead of finding the little sucker, I decided to crush the little it where it hid.  With a rock and some spirited anger, I smashed down into my insole, then laced up my shoes once more.  Success.  Obstacle defeated.  I was off again, for a shorter run then planned, with a loop totaling 8.39 miles (I guessed 8.4!!)

I am certain to never stop anywhere near a Cholla cactus again. Never, ever, ever!