Drive-to-the-Mountains-and-Run-Day

When my phone alarm rang out this morning at 4:15 AM, I thought (seriously!), there’s got to be some mistake.  I must have forgotten to turn off my alarm.  Today’s sleep-in day.  Isn’t it??  But then I remembered, today is drive- to-the-mountains-and-run-day. 

I have only one or two days with enough time to run in the mountains.  This week, I had only one day.  Sleep.  Yes, that would have been delightful.  I lay there face up in my bed, struggling to keep my eyes opened.  “Don’t close them,” I said to myself again and again.  At 4:30, I finally jumped up because I knew that I couldn’t lay there much longer without dozing off.

The skies were black when I finally made it out to my truck with hot mug of coffee in my hand.  The moon was full and bright, lighting up the entire beachside neighborhood.  Not another person stirred.  Not a bird chirped.

If I didn’t absolutely love running mountain trails as well as fully understand the good they would do me, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have made it out to Trabuco Canyon this morning.   Trabuco Canyon not only meant a tough run, but some tough off-road driving for my 2X4 truck just to get there.

I would like to make this post short, as mileage was under 15 miles.  Mountain runs . . . they are hard to make short because they are so beautiful. 

That is why I will mainly do a pictorial for today’s post.  But first I want to point out that this weekend is the one of a race that I wanted to run more than any all year.  I had it on my “For Sure” list.  Nanny Goat 24 Hour run began this morning and I was not at the start.  I pretty much dreamt about this race for months.  However, family commitments made this race impossible.  The sacrifice was difficult to swallow.  But I did this sacrifice knowing that it was best for me, and best for my family.  Actually, there was no choice.  I had to omit Nanny Goat from my race calendar.  Our oldest son is being confirmed tomorrow.  This is similar to a bar mitzvah (though not as triumphant) or a quinceanera to the Mexican culture. (To make a long story short, a Confirmation kind of represents a youth’s acceptance of certain religious doctrines – it includes a church ceremony and communion – to not attend due to a race would have been unacceptable in my eyes.)

Since I didn’t run Nanny Goat today through tomorrow, I was able to get in a Saddleback Mountain run this morning.  And that was truly glorious.  Truly. 

I took off up a lonely mountain.  I thought I was surely alone, when three miles in, three men came hiking down Holy Jim.   Somewhat armed, I couldn’t help but think, “Crap!”

Of course, I kept on running headstrong past the group, chatting with them along the way.  I learned that they took off at 2:00 AM for a hike to the peak.  With a full moon, I’m sure it was glorious.   I would love to do that.

Climbing up Holy Jim – the best thing about Holy Jim is that the climb is spread out over five miles.  The worst thing about Holy Jim is that it’s five miles long!:

Glorious Flora along the way:

Running Along The Main Divide:

Amped up to finally run downhill on West Horsethief:

Flora on Horsethief:

Trabuco Trail:

Only a tad of dirt in the end.

Return To The Scene Of Defeat

Well, it’s been 3 weeks since my defeat.  I’ve been taking it easy, sulking, catching up on errands, trying to get back my run groove.  I’ve resorted to trickery to get my feet moving (see last post).  This morning, I relied on my hubby to kick my behind if he found me sleeping on the couch AGAIN when he awoke. (The pattern has been, wake early to run, hit the snooze, walk out to the living room, fall asleep on the couch.) 

It sure took me a long time to get out the door this morning.  I wasn’t looking forward to returning to the scene of defeat – Trabuco Canyon.  I just had to FORCE it.  So, I got in my truck and drove mindlessly toward the Saddleback Mountains.   

If you live in Southern California you probably know that Trabuco Canyon is the same canyon that the two teenaged hikers were recently lost for 4 days.  The media spread “my” canyon all over the airwaves, naming trails, etc., for four days.  Thankfully, the two kids were safely found.  I suspect they learned lots of lessons.  Many that I have learned myself, but have been fortunate enough not to cause a 4 day “man hunt,” utilizing hundreds of volunteers, several helicopters, medics, etc. 

Anyway, I finally arrived to the Holy Jim lot around 8 AM.  Two runners and several cyclists stood around talking about the lost hikers.  They had their theories, mine was similar (I’ll leave out my theory as to what happened, unless I hear later that it’s the case).   

Taking off towards the Holy Jim Trailhead:

Though my calves felt tight at first, I found Holy Jim delightful.  It was not the same beast that kicked my butt during Old Goat.  This Holy Jim was cool, scenic and gave me strength.  I ran with plenty of calories stashed in my pockets and plenty of fluids to drink until I arrived at the secret stash several miles away. 

I ran up that switchback with four other ladies who had not run Holy Jim before.  So, when the lady behind me tried to catch me, I had the advantage being that I know how to pace myself on this trail.  In the end I passed the front runner of the group, only because she turned her ankle.  I stopped briefly to talk with her, then whizzed my way up to Bear Springs. 

Hallelujah!  Me and Holy Jim are friends again.

Holy Jim:

While the four ladies headed off toward Santiago Peak, I took the Main Divide for an up and down, up and down run toward West Horsethief.  The sun came out strong, yet I was lucky to have an occasional cool breeze.  I felt very fortunate to have these gifts today – I can still run mountain trails, I know my way around these mountains, and I enjoy the “harsh” beauty. 

Several jeeps drove past me as I ran the Main Divide.  I even came upon two more female runners.  I began to remember that I love trail running.

From the Main Divide:

What a delight to make the top of West Horsethief.  I stopped for a quick photo op, then happily, joyfully made my way down that steep, rocky switchback.  I slid a few times, tripped once, and even fell back lightly once.  The trail seemed longer than I remembered. But then again, it always does.  And I thought, as I always do, that it must be more difficult running down Horsethief than running up it.  Toward the bottom, I came upon two hikers.  I rarely come upon anyone on Horsethief.  These two were sitting in the shade probably saying, “What the heck were we thinking?”

Top of West Horsethief:

West Horsethief:

I finished this 14+ mile loop at a packed Holy Jim parking lot.  A line of cars backed-up on Trabuco Canyon Road trying to get in the lot  Not a place remained to park.  Drivers were eager to catch my eye to ask if I was leaving.  I only put  in a quick stretch before giving up my space.  The drive out was a little odd, no not a little. It was very odd.  Every available space to park along the canyon road was crowded with cars.  Countless hikers made their way in, and at some points were the road was tight, a literal line of cars waited to make their way through.  I have never seen Trabuco Canyon so crowded.  I found this a little annoying – were these visitors there to see the sight of a near tragedy (the lost teenagers) or were they genuinely interested in this beautiful place that the media referred to again and again as rugged, harsh and dangerous?  

I suspect the crowds will die down.  If not, there are plenty of canyons where I can access Saddleback Mountains. 

The main thing is:  Today I returned to the scene of defeat.  AND I remembered that I love trail running.   This is not to say that I totally have my groove back.  But it’s a start.  A dang good start.

Los Pinos Peak

I think I prefer the odd goals that I conjure up, over training for long distance endurance races.  A 50k or 50 miler not only tries my body, but more so, they try my soul.  During these runs (and training for them) I must fight the toughest battle – the battle against myself, against those awful voices that nag, nag, nag.  It’s simply terrible.

On the other hand, a couple months ago, I decided to attempt Mount Everett’s elevation gain every month with my running.  That brought me great enjoyment – a goal that can be achieved in tiny steps.  I did it in February, will probably accomplish the task for March. 

I came up with another goal the last time I ran to Santiago Peak (actually, I kind of stole the idea from Jessica Deline, after she saw the photo of my feet on the peak’s surveyor’s mark).  Consequently, this new adventure consists of collecting peaks in my runs (and taking a photo of my feet on the surveyor's stamp as proof.)

Anyway, as I continue my wind down for Old Goat 50, which is precisely one week away, I feel relaxed.  At the same time, I am terrified.  I am terrified of Old Goat.  I fear the battle.  But, I am relaxed over doing my own thing in running now that “training” has ended – as I did on this cool March morning.

During this morning’s single digit run, I sought out Los Pinos Peak for peak #2.  I parked high up the mountain (in Blue Jay) and  headed up the Main Divide well before the San Juan 50k runners would be making their way up the same truck trail.  I did a run/hike combo and found that I made the exact time as when I did a power hike for the whole 1.5 miles. Hiking power continues to amaze me. 

Traversing the Main Divide:

At the Trabuco/Main Divide fork, there’s another prong to the fork, obscured by vegetation and fallen tree trunks.  That fork belongs to the Los Pinos Trail.  Rather than bushwhack, I hopped some turquoise colored posts and made my way to the trailhead.  Then I commenced to run up and down (mainly up) a gorgeous Los Pinos (The Pines) trail. 

My tortuous Mentally Sensitive repeats did me good today.  I found these mainly-up-rolling-hills amazingly easy (as easy as running trails can get anyway).  The views were immense, my home county obscured with thick clouds.  These are the trails that leave the world behind.

Before I knew it I arrived at the peak, or so I figured.  It appeared as if everything else was downhill from there.  Well, I looked around and thought, “Where can the mark be?”  Surveyor’s plaques are never in the middle of the trail.  And at Santiago Peak, it’s at the top of a pile of rocks.  To my left on Los Pinos trail was a natural looking pile of rocks.  I hopped up on them, glanced around.  Nothing.  And then upon closer look, I found a small circular plaque embedded in a boulder.  Without my glasses, I could barely read it.  And what I could read didn’t make sense.  But surveyor remarks don’t make sense.  I hopped around a bit more and found a larger circular plaque and was able, just at the perfect angle, to make out the words, “Los Pinos Peak.”  I had arrived. 

Los Pinos Peak:

Proof:

Peak Goof-Around Time:

On my way back down Los Pinos, I took an off-shoot that I noticed on the way up.  Since my mileage was less than expected I figured I had a couple miles to spare.  But this single-track trail descended at such a great rate that I feared it would eventually dump me out in the canyon below.  And then what a climb out that would be (surely making this run carry into the double digits)!  And so, I turned around and ran back up to the trail and made my way peacefully back to the Main Divide.  Since this portion will be the last remaining miles of Old Goat, I worked on my footing and form.  My shoes felt unbelievably comfortable.  So much so, I wished that I had trained in them. 

I met the San Juan 50k aid station trucks making their way up the Main Divide.  After stretching, I got into my truck, drove down Long Canyon Road and came upon the front runner of the San Juan 50k, Dean Dobberteen (spelling?).  I’ve seen him many times, usually the front runner.  Anyway, he made that Candy Store run that I’ve been training in TWO HOURS!!!!!  This is basically the same course (actually his was shy a mere two miles) that I finally got in less that 6.5 hours.  Wow.  (I won’t let that throw me.  He is among the best of the best.  I just want to finish, or at least try and finish). 

And such is trail running . . .

Blue Jay to Blue Jay

I drove up the mountain again in the dark this morning.  And this time, I didn’t make the long drive just to check the weather and drive back (like I did last weekend).  My eyelids were heavy, the weather was cold.  And I so, so, so didn’t want to run.  (What’s going on with me???)  I wanted more than anything to drive home and go back to sleep. 

My truck parked in Blue Jay at The Main Divide, I applied sunscreen, Glide.  I briefly considered taking a nap in my truck.  Only the fear of a crazed killer breaking my window and slashing my throat as I slept stopped me.  “Just get out of the car and start marching,” I told myself.  And that I did.  Up the Main Divide, I hiked, I ran, I suffered as the sun rose above the horizon.

Nearly  two miles later, I felt in the groove – just in time for a nice long downhill on Trabuco Trail.  I felt good.  Loose.  I made good time.  I even made better time than usual when it got rocky.  AND IT GOT ROCKY.   Amazingly, I came upon running friend Mark R. on that trail.  I write “amazingly” because out of all the trails, and all the hours in the day, it’s a big coincidence that I’d come upon a friend in these lonely woods. 

Trail running is so fun!

Running down a serene Trabuco Trail: 

Rocks.  And more rocks!:

I wasted twenty, yes TWENTY minutes at the bottom of Trabuco.  I dug out my water stash, refilled my pack.  The weather warming up, I had to peel off layers and somehow find room for them in my pack.  With a full water bladder, I needed to cram my belongings into my pack to fit.  I broke one of the bungee cord tie downs on the backside.  I feared I might bust the zippers too, my pack was so full.  Ended up, I had to take out a water bottle and carry it.  (I drank it on the way up Holy Jim to get rid of the weight.)

On the way up Holy Jim, I was lucky to come upon a California Mountain King Snake.  It was beautifully colored, bright orange, black and white.  But, alas, it moved too fast for me to catch a photo.  I made decent time, not great, but not terrible, running slowly up Holy Jim.  The main thing was, I didn’t suffer much.  I didn’t suffer much because I finally realized how to run Holy Jim.  The secret is: Fully expect another switchback at every single bend, otherwise your heart will break again and again.  In other words, don’t look for the end.  Don’t expect the end.  Just keep going and take in the beauty. 

Warming up on Holy Jim: 

I put my hands on my hips at least once.  And I grabbed a couple tree trunks on my final ascent to Bear springs.  Again, I was amazed this morning.  Bear Springs was actually CROWDED with people taking in the giant shade before a big trek to Santiago Peak.  I had to get a picture.  I stood back from the group, snapped a photo and one of the young women turned and looked at me.  “I know you,” she said.  I started filing through runners in my mind to place her.  Before I could finish she said, “You’re Lauren.  I read your blog!” 

Wow!  Talk about a picker-upper.  I chatted a bit with Maria and her friends (in photo below).  She was so nice and encouraging about my Old Goat training.  She made me feel like I was almost there as far as training, instead of how I’ve been feeling, which is I’m NO WHERE CLOSE.

Bear Springs:

I took off rested on The Main Divide back toward Blue Jay, noticing cougar tracks in far too many places.  They were small tracks, but much too big for a bobcat.  They probably belonged to a juvenile.  I’ve seen cougar tracks on occasion, especially on Harding Truck Trail, but never on this trail. 

The remainder of this 21 mile run was a grueling, yet joyful, up and down, up and down rocky truck trail.  I ran up on snow several times, using the opportunity to fill my cap with it so that I could keep my head cool.

Looking toward the Pacific Ocean (at Indian Truck Trail intersection):

I’m so relieved that I got out and ran instead of napping in my truck.

Great gain today (6,344’):

The BIGGER Loop

Okay, I know that’s lame.  I contemplated a great deal over what to name today’s loop, but came up with nothing.  This is the best I’ve got (at least until I run this loop again).  What loop?  The second portion of the Old Goat 50 miler that I’m running at the end of March.  The first twenty miles is The Candy Store run that I’ve posted recently.  The second portion of this race is a 30 mile loop that takes runners up The Main Divide, down Trabuco, up Holy Jim  to Santiago Peak, then back, mainly via The Main Divide (in the Saddleback Mountains).

I posted this run in my running club and 3 other runners showed for a shorter loop which took them up the infamous West Horsethief.  We ran together for the first 6 or 7 miles.  The weather was cool, perfectly cool.  And the skies were blue. 

Top of Trabuco/Main Divide (Me an utter goofball, Alyx, Tory, Jessica Deline RD of Twin Peaks and The Harding Hustle):

View of Santiago Peak from Trabuco:

Running Trabuco:

The Departure, and I’m not weeping over missing W. Horsethief:

Once we split, I’m sure my pace slowed.  I run faster when I run with others.  Though I enjoyed the earlier company, now I enjoyed the solitude. I came across several friendly hikers.  And I put a great deal of effort into not thinking about the past or future.  I succeeded pretty well, and of course, that’s when I ran my best. 

I have not run Holy Jim since I DNF’d the Saddleback Marathon this past November.  I have not run to Santiago Peak since Twin Peaks Ultra (October).  I’ve been avoiding these trails I think, due to a fear lurking in the back of my mind.  A fear over the difficulty.  A fear over mental defeat.  Holy Jim is where I gave up the mental battle during the Saddleback Marathon.  Santiago Peak, well, I have a mental defeat just about every time I run those last 2.5 miles. 

Nonetheless, my run into Holy Jim was lovely.  The weather remained cool.  The skies grew a little cloudy.  And the trails were “spring” green with moss and ferns heavily dotting the landscape.

Ending up Trabuco:

Spotting a rare candy rock :

In the Holy Jim parking lot, I traipsed through the brush to locate the fresh water that my son and I stashed yesterday afternoon.  I felt a little like Katniss from The Hunger Games.  Just like in The Hunger Games, water is the number one commodity in trail running (calories being number 2, which I had plenty of).  Though I wasn’t particularly thirsty (I had just gone through 60 fluid ounces on the trip there), my mouth practically watered when I pulled out one of the hidden jugs.  I set it on a log, unpacked some calories and refilled my hydration pack to the brim.  That water looked so beautiful and precious to me, I was tempted to pour it over my head and shower in it.  But alas, the weather was too cool for such an act.  So, I hid the jug back among the others and headed up Holy Jim. 

Holy Jim was a bear, yes, but not a grizzly bear.  I found the 5 mile climb laborious, but enjoyable.  It was like meeting up with an old friend (one of life’s greatest treats).  On the way up Holy Jim, I devised a plan to conquer the final 2.5 mile ascent to Santiago Peak.  I decided I would use those couple miles to “rest-up.”  Instead of struggling by running up that thing, I chose to hike it.  In fact, I forbade myself to run any portion of it, EXCEPT the flat part that reaches only about a tenth mile. 

A Stream Crossing on Holy Jim:

Hiking the last couple miles to Santiago Peak:

That’s not me on the motorcycle:

A view from the summit:

Standing on the Summit:

I only lost about ten minutes hiking to the peak instead of attempting to run it.  That’s a lot of time for only 2.5 miles.  HOWEVER, I felt relaxed.  The ascent was still difficult.  But I never grew angry.  I didn’t bash myself (that is fill my brain with negative self-talk).  I reached the peak delighted.  And on my trip down, I felt stronger than usual.  I think I’m going to work on this approach more. 

The next three miles back down were good.  The final ten miles were an utter struggle.  I ran most of them, and when I found myself trying to run ridiculous inclines, I forced a fast hike (as fast as I could manage anyhow).

Today’s training run:  Success, even though The Bigger Loop took me quite a bit longer than I hoped.  At least I know where I stand (or run), and have a time to work with. 

I feel like time is fleeting.  But I will not fret.  Time on my feet, that’s my goal this month.  Putting in the miles!