Saddleback Marathon

Up at 4:30, I was on the road (5:30), driving up Highway 74 to Blue Jay Campground in the dark.  Missing the turnoff once, I parked along the road and ran on over to a camper to meet a exciting and wonderful Australian named Baz who puts on The Saddleback Marathon (among other races).

All my “stuff” laid out the night before – yikes!  Quite a bit there – my packing list has grown : )

Thankfully, Baz granted me and a few other runners an earlier start with the trail marker who was also running the race.  I was afraid that I would come in after the cut off if I didn’t get at least a little earlier start.  Turns out, Baz is a super nice guy and pretty lenient on the time limit. 

Anyway, the weather was perfectly cool this morning, the scenery lush and green, for the most part.  I think that first trail was San Juan Trail, which was mostly up and I ran it with little problem.  Then we were off for a magical downhill trip on Trabuco Trail, where the ferns were bright green and yellow leaves littered the floor.  The run took some concentration, especially when we hit the rockier areas.  I tripped several times, but never “ate dirt” or “ate rocks” rather.  I have run Trabuco Trail before, but nothing looked familiar to me.  But when we hit that rocky area – it all came back.  (Aug or July 09, I believe “In Over My Head” blog)

One super fun thing about getting an earlier start, I got to witness the front runners fly by me – I mean FLY by.  The first two passed on the flat desert-like part of Trabuco, about 9:00 AM.

Eager for my 3rd marathon this year, my 2nd trail marathon

Going up San Juan Trail (Irvine Lake in distance?)

Trabuco Trail

 

 Wonderful Aid Station Workers – they all look familiar to me, but I couldn’t place them

So, how do I make this race report sweet & simple.  I can’t.  But I will try.  The first ten or so miles went surprisingly well.  Aid Stations supplied, among other things, ice-cold Coca Cola, which I took like shots.  They felt like zingers and gave me the rush I needed.  Then we hit Holy Jim.  I thought to myself, this isn’t so bad (difficulty-wise), and even though I promised myself to hike all of Holy Jim, I ran a good deal of the beginning.  (I kept thinking “Eh, Bulldog is much harder!)  Besides that, Holy Jim was gorgeous with boulders, stream crossings, colorful leaf liter, small waterfalls along the way.  And then we hit the switch-back, one after the other after the other

Mile 11.5 or so, I felt I could not take another step.  Cramps were setting in.  First my toes began cramping, then my calves.  Though I had been taking S-Caps (salt) all along, I began eating them like candy. 

Still going up Holy Jim . . .

About the time we were supposed to reach the Main Divide, according to my garmin, I couldn’t see it.  I feared I had got off track.  I could hear falls somewhere nearby, but I didn’t turn my head to investigate.  I was too concerned about reaching the divide.  Then I saw Sheila up above climbing an extremely steep incline.  And then another runner came up behind.  That last tiny stretch of Holy Jim was quite difficult.  It was layered with several inches of slippery acorns. Using my hands to climb up, I could see a truck through the trees.  Then a table came into focus.  I had made it – the 13.5 mile aid station at elevation 4,056 on the Main Divide!

The station workers were awesome – supportive and at my service to the extreme.  They wouldn’t let me do a single thing for myself.  I took my Coca Cola shots, refilled my water, popped in more than necessary Nuun tablets and was off for a gorgeous, windy up and down trip along the Main Divide.  On one side I could see The O,C., the otherside, Lake Elsinore.

Lake Elsinore down there

While I had been sucking down gels all along, I knew that I had to get in more calories.  But I really didn’t think I could hold down any solid food.  At station #4 one of the aid workers pulled a Luna Bar out of my pack.  I held that thing in my hand for a while as I ran along the divide.  I could feel the cramping just at bay.  My body crusted in salt, I continued to down those S-caps. 

A little delirious at this point : )  Feeling goofy.

All the runners I met along the way were friendly and supportive as I ran this last portion, waiting, waiting, waiting for that last aid station – after that it would be all down hill.  I felt like a zombie.  I was just running with no thoughts, nothing – simply putting one foot in front of the other when I yelled inside my head, “Eat!”  And so I began taking little bites of that Luna Bar.  I kept it all down. 

Another runner, Jeff, and I came up on the last aid station at the same time.  This station was run by Steve and Annie Harvey (I recognized them  from my first Calico Ghost Town trail race).  They are a friendly couple who are race directors for the Old Goat Trail Races. 

So dang happy to find out we had only three miles left, I really started acting quite silly, yakking away with the Annie and Harvey, saying it was a true miracle that I had made it that far, etc., etc.  I was the happiest girl you’d ever see after climbing more than 5,500 feet!   I finally took off running, actually running, when my legs could move no more.  Some time later, Jeff caught up with me.  And we ran those last three miles together, the longest three miles EVER.  We crossed the finish line before every one had packed up and left.  Several other runners came in one after the other after that.  And I found it odd that I hadn’t even noticed them out there behind us.   I used the garmin to give the recorders my official time, since I got an early start.  I was running up in those mountains for a little over 7 hours!!

I felt perfectly fine after crossing the finish line.  I chatted some with fellow runner Dave (but forgot to snap a photo of him!) and also with Mark.  I laughed at Baz, his energetic and boisterous personality.  But I forgot to say good-bye to Jeff.  If you read this Jeff – it was great running in with you.  You helped take my mind off the total hell that my body was going through : )

It is finished!!!  3 marathons this year:  Check

The Movie   😲

5,523 Elevation gain

I’m Scared to Death

Aside from normal scary life stuff, like hardships for my children, or death of loved ones, or experiencing a car accident, I’m not usually scared by things.  Rattlesnakes don’t scare me. Speaking in public doesn’t scare me.  Heights don’t scare me.  Roller coasters don’t scare me.  I don’t get claustrophobic.   Falling down a mountain doesn’t really scare me.  Even cutting my own hair, blinded to the backside (like I did today), doesn’t scare me.

I’ll tell you what scares me – this SATURDAY.  I’m scared to death about the Saddleback Marathon, mainly because I’m not trained.  Not only am I not train, I am injured, and I’m gonna go out here (foolishly) and run 26.2 miles with 5000+ of elevation gain. (At least it will be beautiful).  If you’ve been reading all along, you know I didn’t do this on purpose.  Life just got in the way.

Such is life.

Such is life?

Such is my life.

A 17 year old student asked said to me this afternoon, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but how old are you?”

When I told him that I was 45, he seemed impressed that I was doing the race this weekend.  Little does he know.  There’s a multitude of 45-plus-year-olds that can blow me away on that mountain this weekend.

And so . . .

Races don’t normally SCARE me like this.  I was too stupid to be scared for my first Calico Ghost Town race.  By the second year, I knew, and I was scared.  I was a little scared about my first marathon, the San Diego Rock ‘n Roll Marathon.  But I never doubted that I could do it.  I also remember being scared about my first half (Disney Half Marathon) – but again, I didn’t doubt that I could do it. Though I’m always anxious about going up Bulldog, I don’t even recall being as scared as I am now with the Bulldog 50k (my first DNF).  I completely envisioned that I could finish that thing.  But now, with all that’s happened this year, my glute still stabbing with pain, I’m scared, I mean, scared stiff about the Saddleback Marathon.  You can be sure, I’m going more than prepared (that is, I’m packing in everything I could possibly need – so what if it weights 25 pounds : ).

So I went to the gym today, with the notion to stretch and relax.  I rolled my glutes and my IT Band to no end.  I stretched.  And I worked on my abs – surprisingly experiencing a good deal of glute pain. 

Afterward, I sat in the steam room, concentrating on my breathing.  I pretty much hated it in there with those boiling hot drops of water falling on me (and my ipod!!). Then I went to the sauna (I love the sauna).  I laid down on the cedar bench, listening to music through earphones for two long (8 minute) songs.  I focused on breathing again (meaning diaphragm breathing, in through the mouth, out through the nose).  When it was time to leave, sadly I could not lift myself off the bench without excruciating glute pain.  There I laid in an empty sauna with no way to get up.  If only someone could walk in and offer me a hand, pull me up.  When it looked like that wasn’t going to happen, I rolled myself down to the lower bench, then quickly rolled myself up.

I ended this “stretch and relax” session with 15 minutes in the jacuzzi.  Focusing the jet stream on my glutes, I finished up surprisingly refreshed.  It wasn’t until after work (wearing pumps for 4 hours) that the glute pain resumed.  And oh ya, my deltoid/pec ached with no relief.   After dinner out, a sticky heating pad on my shoulder, plus with a couple glasses of wine and 3 Motrin, I told my husband, “I need to drink a couple glasses of wine before the Saddleback Marathon and I will be fine.”

Ya.

Meanwhile, another horse pill antibiotic to swallow tonight, two more again tomorrow and days to come . . . perhaps all will be well come this weekend.

On the plus side, I will be running this race with a very sweet running friend who is also scared, and maybe another running friend (who I don’t think is scared : )  But that’s okay too, she can lead the way!

I am not ready

I am not ready for the Saddleback Marathon -- "California's hardest marathon."  I hardly ran in the Santa Ana Mountains all summer -- I think only once, and that wasn't a very long run.  But I am crazy enough that I'm gonna run this marathon anyway.  I've got two races before the big date -- nothing that will prepare me.  But I am, on the good side, venturing back to Malibu Creek State Park.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am returning to my nemesis. 

This will not be the first time I've entered a trail race ill-prepared.  Three young children, a job, a household to keep to mention a few obligations, things just get in the way.  Excuses.  Excuses.  If life always went as planned, it would be pretty boring, I say. 

I'm not that concerned, though I did want to run/hike up Holy Jim (aka Holy Crap) at least once before the Saddleback marathon.  Not going to happen.  Just not enough time.  It seems like every big race, something big happens that keeps me from my training plan.  Does that happen to you? 

I ran Calico this year with an aching hip, rubbing gobs of Icey-Hot beneath my hemline at each aid station.  Bulldog 50k, there was my car accident and 6 weeks of physical therapy right up to the race, not to mention I DIDN'T HEAT TRAIN. 

It really doesn't matter though.  I'm in this for the fun.  Yup, THE FUN.  There's no chance I'm placing, even in my age group.  What I want is to finish.  Even if I don't, I've had my first DNF, so I think I can handle another without sobbing hysterically. 

It really is all about the fun, the challenge, the adventure . . . the story.  That is why I enter trail races.  The story is just too good to pass up! 

How about you?  Why do you enter races that you have no chance of winning, or even placing in your age group?

ps.  No back spasms today.  We shall see about tomorrow.  Today I swam 2,000 yards, did some core work, lifted weights.  Tomorrow will be the true test.  I'm hopeful. : )