I Hate Horsethief

I may not look like it in this picture – but I HATE West Horsethief.  I really do.  That trail is a vampire.  It sucks the blood right out of me and leaves me there in the dirt to die.  So, ask me this:  Why did I decide to take on Horsethief in the middle of the afternoon during the summertime?  I have a good explanation for that.  Well, I don’t know how good.  To make it quick, I needed to pick up our youngest son in Wildomar on Sunday.  Just so happens that The Saddleback Mountains separates me from that destination.  Normally, I would have driven around the mountains.  On Sunday, I thought, “Heck – I’ll take a short cut.  I’ll drive to the top of the mountain.  AND, while I’m at the top of the mountain, I’ll run back down into the canyon . . .  then run back up to the ridge – via Horsethief.” 

What the heck!!!

What. Was. I. Thinking?

I knew right away that I was probably in trouble.  I felt miserable at 1:30 PM climbing up The Main Divide in 100+ F degree weather.  And I felt pretty miserable running down Trabuco (because the terrain was so rocky I couldn’t get a foothold!!!).  But it certainly was GORGEOUS.  Trabuco is awesomely beautiful.  Enough to forget about the potential hell that awaited. 

My Beautiful Trabuco:

My real troubles began as soon as I set foot upon Horsethief.  I yearned for shade.  SHADE.  SHADE.  SHADE.  I felt that I could not bear the trek another step.  But I had to.  Had to.  I was in a canyon with no way out, but UP.  I pretty much hated every second of it.  But I plugged forward, else fall down in the dirt and cry.  Hell, I tell you!  Hell.  When I finally reached a bit of shade, there were no branches strong enough to lean against and hold me up.  I tried to hunch over and grab my knees.  But my hands just flew off my knees from the sweat.  Finally, I just decided that in order to cool off, to stop my insides from boiling over on this ridiculous incline, I needed to stop and  SIT in the shade.  And this is what I did.  I sat until I could feel my body temperature decline.

And then, I finally made it.  I reached The Main Divide.  I wasn’t giddy, and I wasn’t elated.  Instead, I bushwhacked my way  to the water stash.  I was so grateful to find the stash was still there.  Thing was, the tarp was thrown off and the tens of gallons were exposed to the hot heat.  After washing my face in HOT water, I poured a jug over my head.  And then I filled my pack with this hot water.  I didn’t mind taking the time to put the tarp back over the water.  I was in no hurry to continue on.  Eventually, I took off on The Main Divide in sopping wet clothes, but thankfully with a body temperature declining. 

As the gnats swarmed my face, I caught a clear glimpse of Lake Elisnore.  Not far from the lake, our youngest son played, joyfully I’m sure, with his friend at his nearby home in Wildomar.  I couldn’t wait to get there.  But move, I could hardly manage.  I ran the flats and I ran the downhills.  I didn’t run quickly though.  And I didn’t even much look at my garmin for pace.  Misery.  This is what I was training for.  How many more steps?  Don’t think about that.  Just one foot in front of the other, and then I will be done . . .

That took FOREVER.  But I made it.  Indeed I did.  

When I drove home that evening, I drove around the mountain instead of up and over.  I was done with mountains for the day! 

Big Baz WTRS 21K

I had not run since I stopped my streak.  Then Friday afternoon I took the boys for a hike in Aliso/Wood Canyons.  Back at home I napped a good three hours.  I went to bed with a sore throat, feeling a little slow (you know, a tad dim-witted and slow moving). 

I woke at 5AM for Big Baz’s 21k trail race in the Cleveland National Forest this morning (Saturday).  My throat burned.  After gargling with diluted hydrogen peroxide, I took two motrin, drank some coffee and drove up the mountain early. 

Still, I felt confident, confident especially that I would beat last year’s time.  I hoped I’d beat it by about 15 minutes. Thing was, from the beginning of this trail race, I NEVER felt strong.  I thought it would come though – my strength that I felt for so, so many days in a row during the streak.

Pre-race:  Me, Baz, Judi, Matthew:

The ladies raring to go: Lisa, Me, Judi:

Running alongside Doug, headed for The Main Divide:

So many people passed me going up The Main Divide.  The main crowd got further and further away.  At that point, my strategy became to powerhouse down Trabuco.  And that isn’t easy.  There’s so many rocks and boulders, it’s an easy and dangerous place to fall.

I ran right past the aid station at the top of The Main Divide, leaving a few people behind.  Then I ran as fast as I could down Trabuco, repeating to myself, “kick out the back, kick out the back.”  I knew that the only way I wasn’t going to fall was if I didn’t drag my feet.  It’s impossible to drag your feet when you kick out the back. 

I passed 3 or 4 runners going down Trabuco.  Still I didn’t feel strong, especially when one of the trail workers who were cutting branches threw a branch onto the trail.  It hit my leg.  Simultaneously, the thin branch stuck into the ground in a way that the other end jabbed into my skin then cut down my shin.  It wasn’t a bad injury.  Still it altered my mood some in the negative way.  Yet I kept on running.  Really, what choice did I have?  I could have “chewed-out,” the worker.  But he didn’t do it on purpose.  I doubt he even knew what happened.

View running up The Main Divide:

Running down Trabuco Trail:

Crossing Trabuco to meet up with West Horsethief:

Horsethief got me again!

All along (meaning days leading up to this race and even this morning), I felt pretty confident about going up Horsethief.  I thought that I’d probably run all of it, taking it nice and easy.  Just like I had run it in training.

The trail’s beginning only has a slight incline.  And it was shady and leaf-littered.  A gorgeous sight.  When the climb began, I continued running.  Then, less than half way up, I began sucking air.  About that point, I got a nagging side stitch.  Finding it difficult not to focus on this pain, I concentrated on proper breathing, that is breathing from the diaphragm.  Then one of the runners I passed down Trabuco passed me going up Horsethief.  I felt pretty low.  Not only because another runner had passed me.  I also felt  low because I didn’t want to come in last, I continued to focus on the side stitch pain, and I wanted to quit!  But I can’t quit.  I just can’t!!!  So instead, the negative thoughts overcame me.  I thought to myself “You suck!”  This was very bad.  Really.  I said it to myself more than once, AND DID NOTHING to stop this terrible self talk. 

Running the beginning of Horsethief – hey this isn’t so bad!

Still not so bad, and oh so lovely:

I could feel or hear other runners I had passed coming up on me.  Every time I turned a corner on this hellish switch back, I ran as much as I could.  I figured if the runner behind me couldn’t see me when they turned the corner, they wouldn’t try so hard to catch me.  That seemed to work.

The last time I ran up West Horsethief, I couldn’t believe how short it seemed.  It rained that day, perhaps the rain helped in preoccupying my mind.  Today, I COULD NOT stay in the moment.  Instead, I seemed to focus on my suffering.  I staggered a few times.  Even stopped to take a few photos.  I wanted nothing more than that hellish trail to end. 

And then!  About 50 minutes later, I finally reached The Main Divide.  That’s right about when another runner passed me.

View going up Horsethief:

Another glorious view of this treacherous, hateful trail!

I’m REALLY despising it here:

I ran all of The Main Divide.  But I didn’t love it, that’s for sure.  What I did enjoy however, was the snow.  What I didn’t enjoy was not being able to the catch the lady that continuously ran just about a quarter to a half mile a head of me.  Though tempted, I did not stoop down and grab a handful of snow.  Perhaps I should have delighted in the snow more. 

View of Lake Elsinore from The Main Divide:

When I finally reached The Trabuco/Main Divide Intersection aid station, I stopped for a swig of Pepsi.  Then I grabbed a Styrofoam cup of Gatorade and ran downhill the remaining way.  My pace, as far as I know, never dropped below a 10 minute mile.  Even during the Saddleback Marathon, at this very point on the trails, I was running an 8 minute mile.  I could see about 5 runners down the hill some and tried to catch them.  But I COULD NOT.  I kept tripping and stumbling.  Obviously, I wasn’t kicking out the back.  Holding onto my now empty Styrofoam cup, I ran on in those last few miles, finally giving up on catching any runners.   I wanted more than anything to toss that cup, it bugged me so much.  But again, I JUST COULDN’T.

I finally ran across the finish line, completing this 21k two minutes slower than last year (3:17 / 3:19).  And as soon as I ran on in, Baz was hollering out my name, and my friends where pushing me through the crowd to pick up a prize that I had won – a $50 gift certificate to the running store, Snail’s Pace.  I had no idea how I won this.  This is what I said in my delirium, “Why did I win this?  For carrying this cup for 3 miles?”  Baz laughed and said, “No, for being the nicest lady here.”  I was kinda shoved in front of the camera and a photo was snapped of me and Baz (I’m kind of afraid to see this picture!)

Ahhhhh though.  How nice.  I’m sure I wasn’t the nicest lady there.  But I can surely use that gift certificate.

As a side note, my running friends did great:  Lisa, Judi, Matthew, Doug, Rich and many others.  Though some of them may not have felt they did great.  But compared to me, they did.  I truly felt defeated.

In Over My Head

I worried Friday night that I was going to be in way over my head on Saturday’s run. Then I laughed to myself, because that’s most of the time the case on these trail runs. But I really had no idea – no idea of the utter difficulty of “running” up Trabuco Trail and no idea of the sheer beauty of the Santa Ana Mountains (and in the middle of summer to boot!)

We met at 6:00 AM with five runners: Tom, Larry, Luis, Daniel and the only female in the group, myself. We started running up the canyon, past sporadic cabins, and a bullet ridden car through the cool shade. At the West Horse Thief / Trabuco Trail fork, we headed up Trabuco in and out of the shade, on a slow steady climb. But then that climb took off into the sky. There were wide rocky, desert-like roads, single tracks alongside tremendously steep slopes, and shady enchanted portions beneath forest trees.

Bullet-Ridden, Rusted Out Car

Making Our Way to Horse Thief / Trabuco Fork

Ferns in the Shade

I wonder What Lives in that Cave?

Which Way Should We Go???

Thankful for a cool breeze, I really couldn’t wait until we made the Main Divide. First timer on this run, I really had no idea when that might be, which makes a run mentally difficult. But when I saw some metal posts in the distance, I wanted to sing a joyful song. Nah, I don’t think I had that much energy. I was sure smiling though. We could actually view the other side of the Santa Ana Mountains, Lake Elsinore down below.

Going Up . . .

Still Going Up -- Looking Back (Towards The O.C.)

At The Main Divide

Lake Elsinore In the Distance (Look Very Closely)


We ran some rolling hills for a bit, one of them too long and steep to be called “rolling.” And up on that climb, I spotted a cluster of huge pinecones littering the trail. They were quite prickly and sticky with sap. I picked one up anyway up for my youngest son (he loves pinecones and I knew this one would amaze him). When I turned the corner to meet the guys, they all kind of chuckled at my notion of carrying that thing down Horse Thief. I was thinking heck, it’s all down hill from here – I can do it. Sometimes, my judgment is skewed.

Thankfully, Tom tied it up onto the back of his camelback, and we all made our way down that rocky, switch-back named West Horse Thief. I concentrated hard, with the rocks literally rolling beneath my feet, the terrain steep. There was no time for photo ops down this trail; it was that difficult for me to run.

Running out of the canyon, hikers here and there made their way in with walking sticks. I was tired, but knowing that the end was near, I was able to keep on running back into the parking lot, flabbergasted by the trails I had just run.

Now that was great training for the 25K Bulldog at the end of the month.

Front Row: Daniel, Tom
Back Row: Me, Luis, Larry


11.8 miles logged on Saturday Morning with 3,300 feet of climbing.

ps. My four year old loved the pinecone.