Setting the Clock Back to Zero

Welcome 2013. It’s nice to meet ya!

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions.  I like to look back, but only briefly.  And I like to look forward, but not too far – it freaks me out, makes me anxious.  What I do like is starting over, setting back my running log to ZERO.  I REALLY like starting over.  Monday has always been “start over day” for me.  But in reality, every single day is start over day (in that sense, every single hour is start over hour, every second is start over second.)  A new year though, brings out the strongest sense of a new beginning. Starting a new running spreadsheet with zero recorded, really makes that hit home.   I feel I have a blank slate, not only with running, but in life.  I have more lessons to learn, opportunities to grow.

This morning I woke for the first run of the year.  It took me five days to get out a run in 2013 because we are still in “celebration” mode here.  The boys are on Christmas vacation, as am I.  We took in a few hikes, some good food, etc.  It seemed so long since I ran, it almost felt like I wasn’t a runner.  Nah.  I knew all I had to do was get those feet moving and I’d be on my way up the mountain.  That’s how I did it this morning, one foot in front of the other, up Maple Springs Road, then The Main Divide to Modjeska Peak, for an 18+ mile out-and-back.  And what an adventure it was.  The mighty mountain taught me a few lessons, and beat me up quite a bit in the process.

What fun!

The run up Maple Springs Road was lonely and beautiful.  It was cold, with spots of snow here and there.  The creek ran slightly heavier than usual.  I bundled up to keep warm, wearing two pairs of shorts, two warm shirts, a beanie and gloves, plus my new compression socks which surprisingly do a terrific job keeping my legs warm. 

A pristine creek crossing on Maple Springs:

Admiring moss covered rock along the way:

Very quickly, the road filled with snow and ice.  At first it wasn’t thick, but it was tremendously icy.  I learned almost immediately to run the trail edges, to stay in the white stuff.

white stuff (fluffy snow):  good

white stuff (chunky snow or with vegetation poking through):  good

Slushy mud: okay

ice:  bad, very bad

black ice:  (that is clear ice that you can’t tell is ice):  downright evil!

I met three mountain bikers making their way up Maple Springs.  One of them rode right up.  The other two struggled as I did, slipping and sliding, finding our way to make it through the terrain.  Two dirt bikers also passed by, and one of them slid so closely to me, I fretted for a second he was going to run me over, perhaps knock me off the mountain.

Gradually, more mountain bikers made their way up, the majority struggling.  And gradually I got my groove, having slipped several times, I made pretty good time “staying in the white.”  That is running in the fluffy snow that lined the trail’s edge.  Sometimes that meant running along the cliff, other times up against the mountain wall.  

I nearly made “Four Corners” injury free.  And then it happened.  I can’t recall exactly what occurred.  But I do know that I slipped.  And then I fell.  My previously injured right wrist slammed into the ice, as did my right butt cheek.  On impact I slid haphazardly down the road, stopping when I hit the white fluffy stuff.    I pushed myself up, brushed off the snow  and continued running up to “Four Corners,” which was full of mountain bikers, and empty of snow.

With only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak, I figured I’d be running down in no time.  I fretted a little over going back down Maple Springs.  But my feet soon forgot that fret since I was now running on dirt, glorious dirt toward The Main Divide. 

It wasn’t long on The Main Divide when I hit snow again, ICY snow.  I’d run along, then the “white” would end and I’d need to run across a patch of dirt or carefully maneuver across ice to get to the fluffy white stuff.  I struggled, to say the least!

Eventually a man ran ran down The Main Divide toward me.  He must have seen the distress in my face, as this was all he said, “Stay in the white!!!”  Believe me.  I already knew that.  (But not well enough!)

I came across more mountain bikers on The Main Divide, some of them verbally worrying about the trip to Santiago Peak.  I phoned my husband (yes I got reception!) and I continued with one foot in front of the other, RUNNING.  A slow run, yes, but running nonetheless. 

Though only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak from “Four Corners”,  I was alone for a long time.  A half mile distance probably took me fifteen to twenty minutes.  And then suddenly and surprisingly two other runners ran down The Main Divide toward me.  What a surprise!  We chatted trails together, exchanged names, and turned out, I knew one of them.   I am “virtual” friends with Self Inflicted.  Imagine that, we meet on a snowy mountain on a cold winter morning, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (funny thing is, I saw Self Inflicted’s run posted on Facebook and thought, “Too bad the meeting place is so far away, else I’d probably go.”)  Funny. 

Self Inflicted and Eric:

After departing Self Inflicted and Eric, the snow and ice thickened a great deal.  I ran down the middle “in the white stuff” when it ended, I found my way to more fluffy snow.  But due to a second’s loss of focus (YES, A SECOND!) I found myself running on black ice.  BAM!  My left knee slammed into that ice so hard, the first thing that crossed my mind was BROKEN KNEE CAP.  The solid smooth black ice broke and tore at my skin, drawing blood.  Instantly after the knee impact, my left wrist slammed down, allowing the ice to tear a chunk of skin off my palm. 

I could not move for a moment.  I had to get my “wits,” get some air back into my lungs.  Laying there on the ground I saw several mountain bikers slipping their way uphill, one of them straight toward me.  “I can’t move,” I said to him.  He continued heading straight toward me.  I didn’t realize that he couldn’t control his direction.  “I can’t move,” I said again (I really could not), but then realized that was moot.  I kind of slithered to the side as he slowed and made his way by me.  Several other cyclists came up behind him, all asking if I was okay.  I said that I just needed to get my “wind.”  But I stood up anyhow, so that they could see and be on their way without worry. 

Surprisingly, I was able to walk with minimal pain.  And even more surprisingly, I ran the last quarter or mile or so to Modjeska Peak.

Modjeska Peak was under direct sunlight and void of snow.  Santiago Peak from a far looked snowless, but I knew that trail up was shady and would be icy and snow filled as well.   I ran to the edge of Modjeska, past the small cluster of towers and took in the majestic views as a Sheriff’s helicopter hovered above.

View of Santiago Peak from Modjeska Peak:

Some self-portraits from Modjeska:

I headed back down The Main Divide cautiously, but confident.  Mountain bikers making their way up, questioned me about the terrain, and I honestly told them, “It’s icy, it’s difficult.”  Some of them turned around.  Some of them made the trek.  And some of them made the trek to turn around a little later and meet me on the way down.

I met some more familiar faces from today’s adventure at “Four Corners.”  They headed down Harding Truck Trail on their mountain bikes, and I ran onward down Maple Springs.  I was an expert at running this snowy ice by now.  Don’t get me wrong.  I wasn’t cocky.  I ran yes, but I was cautious, and I focused. When I ran the snow-free, sunny part of the mountain I experienced pure joy.  What would have normally been hard was a relief.  And I thought, “Isn’t this just how life is?  You go through the hard parts, then later, other times don’t seem so tough.” 

With about 4 miles remaining, my knee ached pretty badly.  I didn’t want to take any ibuprofen however (for reasons that I may or may not bore you with later).  With about three miles remaining, hikers making their way up began asking me (again and again, seriously) “How far til the end?????” 

I thought to myself, “The end?  Where’s the end?”  I didn’t want to be a smart ass, so I asked, “The end of the paved road?”  They would say “Yes,” and I looked at my garmin and told them with a smile.  And as I ran that terribly long last couple miles in, I lamented on where’s  the end?  Is it “Four Corners?”  Is it Modjeska Peak?  Santiago Peak?  Ortega Highway? Heck you could keep going around the world and end up exactly where you’re at, and that’s the end.  When the last couple (a man and woman) asked me how much longer until the end, I had the urge to respond, “You are at the end.  You are at the beginning and at the end.” But I did not respond such.  Instead, I glanced at my garmin and told them, “two miles.” 

TIPS:  Where to run in snow & ice . . .

In this picture, don’t dare take a step on the sides of the shot, run right down the middle:

The middle of the road may look safe, but beware – it’s ice.  Run the far edges here:

Don’t even touch that brown snowy stuff on the left, it may be slushy, which is okay, but you are bound to hit a patch of ice, and down you will go!  Run the right.

Stay in the white fluffy stuff:

Do not even step on this stuff (background toward edge is okay), but the rest will send you flying!:

Again, the white fluffy stuff, that is key:

Happy New Year!!

Closing In

I’m closing in on 2,012 miles for the year.  I’m getting a little beat-up and battered from falls, and I’m not dropping any pounds from the body.  BUT gosh darn it, I’m gonna hit that mileage goal.  And I’m having fun doing it.

It stormed all day yesterday.  Several runners dropped out of today’s scheduled group run for a 17 mile loop in Silverado Canyon.   Four adventurous runners did join me however, for a beautiful loop up Maple Springs Road to Four Corners, along the Main Divide, down Silverado Motorway back to Maple Springs.

The run was delightful.  Snow covered the ground in some places.  In other places, we slipped about on ice. I eventually fell on “black” ice and screamed like a little girl.  Seriously, like a little girl.  I was more stunned than anything else, and a little worried about my sunglasses as they crashed to the hard ice.

Views while climbing Maple Springs (a 7.5 mile ascent):

Time to celebrate at Four Corners:

Left to right:  Me, Janine, Hank, Dave, Conrado:

Moving on along The Main Divide:

Every time I run this loop (which is seldom), I’m always confused just when the Motorway trailhead is going to spring upon us.  It’s like that, suddenly there.  But until then, we’ve got climb after climb, plus some lovely down hills for several miles before we get there.  I think I told everyone today at least 3 times, maybe more (doh!) that “it’s just around the corner.”  New running friend Janine joked, “You say that one more time, I’m going to throw you off the mountain.” 

I hollered with joy when we finally reached The Motorway.  From there it was all downhill (except for that one little hill – LOL).  I took up the rear as usual, then got caught further behind when I needed to duck into the bushes.  Then, as I raced down trying to catch the group, I ate it BIG TIME.  When I say “big time,” I don’t mean that I was terribly hurt.  But I couldn’t fall and roll, which would have meant a lighter impact, for fear that I’d roll right off that single track and off the mountain.  Instead, I hit sprawled-out, face down, landing first on my wrists, then my knees.  I also remember my left elbow slammed down to the ground.  The impact was hard and it jolted me a bit.  Fortunately, I recovered fairly quickly and was off again, my ankle slightly aching from a roll as I went down.

Overall, today’s run was fantastic – great company, scenic views, chilly weather.  A true delight!

Running down the Silverado Motorway:

+4,386 / -4,409’

Marking Bedford

Tomorrow is a big day in the trail / ultra running community around here.  Saturday begins Chimera – a 100 mile / 100 km race in the Saddleback Mountains.  My mountains.  No, I’m not running this beast.  But I am working it.  If you are running, and aren’t in bed yet, and are reading this post (though you probably should be sleeping :) say “Hi” when you see me!

I’ve had a great time witnessing the awesome amount of effort put out by the race directors and dozens and dozens of volunteers to pull this thing off.  I feel honored to be part of this.  I had my truck loaded with supplies for our station earlier in the week.  I’ve been receiving updates via e-mail over the past week from our station captain as well as the volunteer director (who happens to be running in this race too).  I’ve got everything stacked in the kitchen to take with me tomorrow for the long day ahead.

At one point during this prep, I was asked if I could mark the single-track Bedford.  I didn’t know Bedford, so I thought it wouldn’t be wise.  I declined.  Then I found out that Bedford is the trail that I call Silverado Motorway.  That’s when I thought, “No way!”  I’ve only run down that trail, and being on my “break,” I thought a three mile steep switch-back was too much.

But then it went on “unassigned.”  And I finally volunteered.  Heck, I could add it into my Friday run.  Double heck, I could do the Silverado Loop, that 17 mile loop that I’ve only run twice, but counter-clockwise.

With trail marking tape in hand, and a rain coat, gloves and head warmth shoved in my hydration pack, I headed up Maple Springs at about 9:30 this morning.   Reports said 30% chance of rain.  I wanted to run.  And I didn’t want to chance being out there in cold rain.  The skies were gray, the weather almost cold.  It was perfect for a three mile uphill run. 

I took a quick left onto Silverado Motorway / Bedford and began marking the heck out of that trail.  I marked it for the runner who has never been on Bedford, who is alone, and who is beginning to get paranoid about whether he/she took a wrong turn.  (I apologize now to the person who takes down the markers : )

Running up Bedford wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.  Granted, I stopped several times to mark the trail.  The difficulty came after Bedford.  It was false summit after false summit after false summit.  Funny thing is, when I ran this loop reversed, it seemed like The Main Divide was mainly uphill.  Ends up, today, The Main Divide was mainly uphill, rolling hills yes – but add in those false summits – that’s difficult.  Fun difficult.  I could see for miles, and I didn’t see evidence of a single soul out there.  I felt completely alone in the mountains.  It was beautiful.  Not only for the eyes, but for the soul also.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a ranger truck drove by.  The driver slowed and casually said, “Everything okay?”  I was kind of glad that if I were to have collapsed on the divide, someone would have eventually driven by.

FINALLY, I made it to “Four Corners.”  I had ran 9.65 miles.  It felt like twenty, a lovely, lovely twenty.

“Four Corners” :

I lazily ran the 7 plus miles down Maple Springs to close up this loop.  By that time, people were driving up the mountain for an afternoon drive.  I saw one cyclist, two motorcyclists.  No runners.  Sure, this run took me longer than usual.  But I’m NOT TRAINING.  Plus, I was marking the trail for Chimera.  Yes!

Solo Saddleback Training Run

I got a late start this morning for my one and only training run for The Saddleback Marathon.  I actually started my run at 9:00 AM.  I rarely start mountain runs that late.  But it’s autumn now, so the weather was nice and cool.  I even wore long sleeves and ran the heater on the drive to Trabuco Canyon.

Planning runs, I forget to count prep time at my truck – this morning it took me ten plus minutes prepping before I took off up the mountain:

It’s deer season in California.  So, I was sure to wear clothing the colors not usually found in nature.  I don’t want to be mistaken for a deer this time of year.  I should have worn a bright orange shirt – but I don’t own one.  I saw two male hunters hiking into the canyon (separately), both in camouflage (but one also wore an orange vest).  Both carried their rifles with a sling over their shoulder, with the barrels pointed upward.  Both also, though youngish men (younger than me), wore their heads shaven clean.  

I ran up Holy Jim, reminiscing about Twin Peaks, or rather trying to reminisce.  I don’t recall much now of running up Holy Jim.  I know today the trail was a lot more crowded with hikers and mountain bikers.  I timed myself going up, but that went out the window when my spouse left a phone message and started texting me.  I forgot to leave a note where I was running today.  This halted my run up Holy Jim because I was afraid to keep moving forward, lest I lose my cell connection.  The other problem was that I couldn’t READ MY PHONE!  Why?  Because I can’t see close up or tiny things without my glasses.  So, I texted HJ.  And hubby brainstormed my oldest son to find out that HJ meant Holy Jim.  (I was so proud of my son : )

Heading up Holy Jim:

Just before reaching The Main Divide, I heard a gunshot.  Just one.  My time was not good when I finally reached the divide.  I turned right and continued running without stopping.  More trucks than usual drove along the divide.  A few motorcyclists did as well.  I made the next junction (Indian Truck Trail) in good time, actually ten minutes faster than usual. 

View of Riverside county from the divide:

This is what much of running the divide is like, but this is section less hilly and less rocky than other parts:

I made it to a secret water stash just in time.  After refilling my pack I heard talking and laughing.  I didn’t want to exit the hiding spot, so I remained hiding in the bushes.  I waited and I waited.  I didn’t want to expose the water spot by exiting just as they went by.  Then again, they might have been runners who knew about the spot.  I waited and waited some more.  Thing was, I needed to pee.  And I could not, would not pee anywhere a secret water stash.  So, I finally pushed through the bushes, and ran up the trail to find four hikers taking photos of themselves.  I came “out of nowhere” to them.  And they were just about in the spot where I had decided to duck into the bushes to do my business.  (I’m just telling it how it is : )  I took a picture of their group with their camera before taking off along the divide to find another sufficient “spot.”

Anyway, the gnats flew about my face as I ran toward Trabuco Trail.  My timing wasn’t too bad.  What was bad was my trip down Trabuco.  This trail is one of the most beautiful trails I know.  It’s also very rocky, and I tend to run it fearfully, which is not good for my time.  There was a day when I ran down Trabuco much quicker.  But with my falls over the past couple years, I’ve grown timid.

Trabuco Trail:

I think I’ll save my quicker running down Trabuco for this Saturday’s race.  Overall, I ran to my truck at a slower speed than expected.  But overall, I enjoyed my training run.  I love these mountains.

Today’s profile: