From the Top Once More

Monday was a day off for me and my boys as well (President’s Day, where we observe George Washington and Abraham Lincoln’s birthdays). I celebrated by sleeping in. I believe that I made it all the way until 8AM. Wait. Now I remember, I actually set my alarm for 6AM (because that’s what I do), and I hit the snooze three or four times until I finally stopped it all together. Then after hearing my middle son wake and go out to the “man cave” I rolled out of bed around 8AM.

The weather was still rather warm on Monday. so, perhaps it was not the best idea to wait until 1PM before heading out for a run. Oddly, I chose once again to drive up Pacific Coast Highway to Laguna Beach to catch a trail along the ridge for another loop starting at the top -- except this time, I went against the gradual climb out, picking instead a steep, short nasty climb out at the end

I parked at a little known park called Moulton Meadows which sits high above the Pacific Ocean and Aliso Canyon. And I began my long gradual down hill run along Top of the World and West Ridge (which was more likely rolling down hills, meaning there were some up hills). I think I cursed the heat. Beeping heat! I really loved our cold weather. It’s too early to start feeling the heat.

Anyway, I ran Cholla Trail down into Wood Canyon and cheerfully greeted the shady groves that line the first mile and a half or so of this canyon. I was really digging this long gradual down hill stuff. But boy did I pay for it. From Wood Canyon, I took Meadows Trail on over to Mentally Sensitive, which I once re-named Psycho Path, and for good reason. I struggled immensely climbing this bastard of a trail. There really is no relief, and as you can see from the elevation chart below, the climb is steep as hell. Thankfully, it was short. But oh my lord. My pace was probably somewhere around a 40 mile minute. I may not take run that loop again for a while.

Jeez.

Running down Cholla Trail into Wood Canyon:Starting up Mentally Sensitive (Psycho Path!):1,271’ gained, 10.3 miles:

Catching Up

Running has nearly come to a halt, a screeching halt.  Though I still have a couple trips out there that have not been blogged. The foot is better, but not at all healed.  I am fine to put in around five to seven miles, but afterward, I am limping about for the rest of the day and into the next.  It is what it is, and I am learning to live with the disappointment.   

First, to catch up with the end of August:

The 20th, I believe it was, I drove my truck with my friend Emmett to the Trabuco Trail head.  We left super early in the morning to avoid the heat, and we made a trek up Trabuco Trail and then the dreaded West Horsethief to the Main Divide for an out-and-back totaling about seven miles. The trip up Horsethief wasn’t so bad mainly because I had mentally prepared myself for pure hell.  When I expect hell, it’s never as bad.  Emmett made it up to the top well before me.  Then he gave me a five minute head start for the trip down, which was down right treacherous.  Fist sized rocks rolled beneath my feet, as ground fell away here and there as my foot hit.  I worried when Emmett hadn’t caught up by the time I hit Trabuco Trail.  Turns out that he took a couple of nasty falls.  That trail is extremely difficult to keep a foothold.  It’s scary too, because a fall could throw you off the mountain.

Somehow my SD card got corrupted and I lost all of the awesome pictures I took of our trip (boo hoo!! I lost the selfie pics of me and Emmett), but I did have these two gems from my phone camera:

Going up W. Horsethief, looking out toward the Pacific Ocean (which is beneath the clouds) and Yaeger Mesa which is about mid photo on the left:

Coming down W. Horsethief, near the top @ The Main Divide:

About a week later, I got in another 7 mile trip in Aliso/Wood Canyons.   This time, I decided to start at the top of the park instead of in the canyon like I usually do.  I parked my truck at Moulton Meadows in Laguna Beach and in a trepid manner made my way down another treacherous decline – this one called Mentally Sensitive.  A rattlesnake caught me by surprise on that tiny single-track.  But I noticed it in time to steer clear and even catch a photo.  After reaching Wood Canyon, I took that trail to Mathis, which is a nice climb out back to the ridge. On the ridge I spotted my second rattler, and was able to snap another snake photo. 

Some scenes from my last summer trail run:

Toward the top of Mentally Sensitive:

Snake #1:

Looking down from West Ridge onto Laguna Canyon Road:

Snake #2:

Caught up.  Now I can rest easy.

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. 

Let 2015 Begin

We got a cold winter storm here in California last week. The snow level was down to one-thousand feet. 1000 feet! I didn’t get out to the trails until three days after the storm (Friday). And I chose Trabuco Canyon since I wouldn’t have to do any mountain driving. Pretty safe choice, or so I thought.

About a mile into the canyon I spotted snow at the sides of the road. And about a half mile later, the shady road turned icy. Well, I was determined to make the five mile drive into Holy Jim. But somewhere around mile 3, my tires started spinning and I found myself stuck in a rut before a large boulder on the ice. After attempting to drive out of the small whole and up over the rock, I decided to exit the truck to see to survey the situation. I could see that if I backed out of the rut, and cut the wheel sharply to the left avoiding the boulder up front, I would hit a patch of dirt. This I did, and continued driving slowly onward on that sloped canyon road. Very soon, I saw a truck driving toward me. The driver hung his head out as he passed and said, “Be careful in there – we had to turn back because it was too icy.”

I REALLY wanted to get to the Holy Jim lot. But quite quickly, I decided that this was not a very smart move. The mountain sides covered in snow, the road was pretty much solid ice and slanted in a direction that if I slid, I’d slide right off the road into Trabuco Creek. Last thing I wanted to do was hike back out of the canyon for cell reception to call for help. Hubby would not be happy.

And so, I began the harrowing task of turning my truck around on the ice. The road is thin, and being icy, made it even more difficult to turn around. I also had another problem. Turning the truck around put me nearly face forward with a giant ice puddle. Now, when I drove in, I hugged the mountain side of this puddle, avoiding it completely. But now, I could not get my car back to that side of the road – the space was too tight and too slippery.

So, I just sat there with my car perpendicular to the road, trying to think up a plan when two men came hiking up. “What do I do?” I asked the gentlemen. One of them had blood dripping down from his knee from a fall on the ice. He told me get the truck in the lowest gear then turn my wheel a little to the left. I followed his instructions. "A little more to the left he said." And then, "Now, just drive and momentum will get you through the puddle.” With no other options, I drove, with my wheel turned as directed I went down into the side of the puddle on the far edge, and then back up on the other end.

Whew! I drove back to the closest lot, parked and pushed in the emergency brake. And as I sat there prepping for some outside time, my truck began sliding. Turned off and with the brake on! Determined to get out there, I started the my truck back up and drove further out of the canyon, found a flat spot in the snow, parked, and with my heavy coat hiked back into the canyon. 

I hiked back to the Holy Jim lot, saving myself from a spill on the ice many times.  During my hike back out, cars were sliding all over the road, ice chips and rocks flying at my legs.  Eventually, I figured I would be safer off the road, so I hiked down to the creek and made my way back to the truck slushing through the snow all by myself.  (2.31 miles hiked)

A nice flat place to park:

Tuesday, I made it back to the trails for a 10.63 mile run in Aliso / Wood Canyons that kicked my ass.  Yup.  Chewed me up and spit me out.  

Let 2015 begin!

A coyote bolts off the trail that I’m stumbling upon:

After The Rain

Southern California finally got some rain.  Two days of rain!  And we didn’t drown. And we didn’t flow away.  After the rains, I got two days in a row of running. Not two WHOLE days, but some hours worth, (while struggling, suffering way too early from fatigue).  Still I got, two glorious days, plodding one foot  in front of the other, as fast as I could muster.

Day One:  Three Beaches

We have five beaches (or 6 or 7, depending how you count) in my town.  Three of those beaches, the northern beaches, are adjoined along one long sandy strip, providing a nice 2+ mile stretch to get your feet moving:  Monarch Beach, Salt Creek and Dana Strands (AKA The Strands).  I decided early on Thursday, after getting the boys all off to school, that I would run the northern beaches, as all my coastal trails were closed due to “wet and muddy conditions.” 

I parked on Camino Del Avion, and ran down the bike trail to Salt Creek State Beach.   It’s over a mile along that bike path that runs adjacent to Monarch Links, a golf course with green belt views and memories of our early life in The O.C.  My husband and I lived on the other side of this golf course, across the street from Salt Creek Beach for our first ten years here.  It was easy living back then, though we didn’t know it.  We should have known it – I mean, come on, though we both worked 40+ hour weeks, and I was working on my bachelor’s degree for some of those years, evenings consisted of walks on a lonely beach, and solo dips in the community pool.  Weekends, well  . . . after laying around in our sun-drenched living room, we’d pack up our back packs, and head down to the beach for the entire day – THE ENTIRE DAY.  Hubby would fish in the surf, catching the nights’ dinner.  I’d write letters on pink stationary, write in my journal, read a novel, or better yet, work on my novel.  Occasionally, we’d jot off to the headlands, which seemed so far away (but is only about .75 of a mile away according to Thursday’s garmin recording).  Back then, we didn’t head back up to our apartment until nearly every beach-goer had gone home.  I’m not gonna say, “Those were the days,” because I wasn’t a runner then (I was a roller blader, a swimmer, a jazzersizer and OMG a smoker!), so I was missing out on a bunch – but they were wonderful days nonetheless. 

So there I was this past Thursday, trotting (yes trotting) back down to the beaches that I spent so many countless hours in the early years of my history in The O.C.  I wasn’t missing those days.  They just occasionally kissed my mind as I took in new times on these same beaches – this time, approaching 50 years old, with three sons and a wild-crazy home, downtown in the same beach resort. 

As soon as my feet hit the sand on Salt Creek Beach, I took a right and headed toward Monarch Beach.  Problem with the recent rains – Monarch Creek flowed heavily into the ocean.  There was no hopping this without getting my feet wet.

With my heart intent on running Monarch, I took a seat in the sand.  There were few people on the beach – a thong-bikini clad lady ran barefoot along the sand.   A gentleman did pushups up by the dirt trail.  I unlaced my shoes, shoved my socks inside and not so gingerly trudged across Monarch Creek.  My feet sank into the wet sand, as my mind relished the cool rushing water. 

On the other side of the creek I was free!  Free to conquer the remainder of Monarch Beach.  Birds barely flinched as I trotted up on them barefoot in the sand. 

I did some boulder “running” to practice for Calico which is about a month away.  These rocks however, unlike the ones that don’t seem to move in the desert, wobbled like teeter-totters when I pounced on them.  I only fell once – it was a hard solid fall, with the ground giving no resistance.  I pushed myself back to my feet happily unscathed. 

The rocks along Monarch Beach:

After Monarch, I ran back across the creek (taking my shoes off again), ran along Salt Creek, and then The Strands.  I stopped when I hit The Headlands where I photographed some sea anemones and watched the waves crash up on the rocks. 

7.25 miles

Day Two: Mentally Sensitive / Mathis Loop

The coastal trails in Aliso/Wood Canyons opened back up on Friday.  Grudgingly, I had to come to terms with a nagging ankle problem that I believe is not really an ankle problem, but a heel problem.  My hunch is that the stiffness and low-level pain that I’ve been denying is related to my on-going plantar fasciitis.   Frequent calve stretching along Aliso Creek Trail alleviated the situation within about the first mile (which further points to a plantar fasciitis problem).

Anyway, the trails were muddy, and my climb up Mentally Sensitive proved quite strenuous.  I worked up quite a sweat, as I slid back three feet for practically every foot of progress (fun!). 

In all, I covered 10.7 miles, with 1,274’ of elevation gain.  Felt good.  And I was tired.

Some Thoughts . . .

Some thoughts that went through my mind as I ran Friday's 10.3 mile loop beneath the hot summer sun:

1. All I have to do is make it up Mentally Sensitive, and then it's almost over (6.5 miles to go!)
2. The whole loop is only ten miles, that's really just two five miles, and half of five miles is only 2.5 miles. I can run 2.5 miles!!
3. Ahhh look at those lovely (poisonous flowers).
4. It’s perfectly fine to HIKE Mentally Sensitive.
5. Buck Up!
6. Are those my tracks?
7. Deer tracks!
8. Deer scat!  Why always berries in deer scat?
9. Poor dead beautiful blue lizard.
10. Buck Up!
11. An hour has already passed?
12. Can. Not. Wait. Until. I. Reach. The. Top.
    
13. Love, love, love the view.
14. Don’t look at the top.  Do. Not. Look.
15. One step in front of the other.
16. Buck Up!
17. Lovely, lovely shade.
18. Just one more hill and it’s all down hill from there. 
19. Just 3 more miles.
20. Just 2.5 more miles.
21. Just 2.25 more miles
22. Just 2.0 more miles.
23. Just 1.75 more miles
24. Just 1.50 more miles
25. Just 1.25 more miles
26. Just 1.0 more miles
27. Just .75 more miles
28. Just .50 more miles
29. Just .25 more miles
30. Awesome.  That wasn’t so bad now, wasn’t it?  I think I’m better for it!