More Practice ( and, What was I thinking??????)

I hit the Saddleback Mountains today, driving up before sunrise.  My plan:  run the correct Old Goat first 20 miles.  I had previously missed a turn onto what’s called the Viejo Tie.  And I was also ending this partial practice course on “Old” San Juan Trail instead of “New” San Juan Trail.  The Viejo Tie and the correct ending added about 2 miles to my usual route.

The campsites were full, but quiet as I ran the paved road toward San Juan Trail.  I believe I was the first runner or cyclist to show in Blue Jay.  Not a person stirred.  The weather was cold as I focused on pace, running San Juan Trail without music at first.  It’s an extremely rocky trail, my biggest fear was falling.  In fact, San Juan Trail is the location of one of my biggest trail running falls ever.  Still, I was happy that I made it to the Viejo Tie in good time. 

Running above the clouds on San Juan Trail:

The Viejo Tie added more technical trail (by-passing a milder portion of Chiquita).  So in-tuned and focused, I surprisingly caught the quick left turn I was supposed to take according to the map I closely studied last night.  I ran uphill, then downhill, then uphill, then downhill, again and again, until I worried that I took a wrong turn.  And then FINALLY, I saw it – the Viejo Tie/Chiquita Trail intersection.  At this point, I was still pleased with my time.  Not exhilarated, merely pleased.   

These twenty miles are extremely difficult for me to run.  Some parts are quite technical, at times with boulders blocking the way.  There’s tree roots and tree stumps crossing the trails.  There’s slippery sandy parts.  There’s ruts and crevices.   Thankfully, there’s also lots of shade.

I made Chiquita falls a little disappointed by my time.  But I told myself, “Don’t fret, don’t grow anxious, IT IS WHAT IT IS.”  I had finally controlled my anger over tripping on rocks.  I kinda figured it wasn’t good for the mental game if I yelled out a profanity every  time I tripped on a rock.

Running the San Juan Loop into the parking lot:

I arrived to the turnaround point across from The Candy Store 50 minutes past my best case scenario, 20 minutes past the deadline for making the entire route within the first cutoff back at Blue Jay campground.  To make matters worse, after digging my water jug out of the bushes and refilling, I accidently dumped my entire re-fill.  So, I made it back to the bushes for the jug, refilled the bladder again, dissolved Nuun tablets again, squeezed the air bubbles out again.  I spent 8 minutes at the turnaround.  I didn’t give up the idea of at least trying to make the cut-off, and kicked it in for the most difficult part of the trip.  I ran most of the time, hiked the steepest portions. 

I grew so fatigued toward the end of my climb back, I decided that when I hit the cut-off time, I was going to cut the course and head back to my truck. 

And then, my ipod battery died.  That’s when I heard the breeze.  It sounded like beautiful music to my ears.  The tree leaves rustled in the wind.  And leaves crumpled beneath the squirrels’ tiny feet as they scampered back and forth across the trails.  I didn’t want to leave the trail.  So, I decided to run the whole first part of Old Goat and not cut the course. 

In the end I came in 18 minutes past the cut-off. I’m okay with that.  I’ve got a little time.  Besides, today was the first time I ran the Viejo Tie.  Not only that, I felt good when I finished, like I could run another thirty miles. 

(Still, what was I thinking?????).

Not So Good News

First the quick one – I actually broke ANOTHER camera.  Monday, I’ll embarrassingly put in a claim on my replacement plan / extended even-if-I –accidentally-throw-it-off-a-mountain warranty.  (Not to worry though, I still have pictures to share, and while I’m waiting for my reimbursement check, I always have my phone if I absolutely have to take a photo). 

Secondly, while I did not fracture/break my foot, unfortunately I cannot blame the no-support, no-give sandals for my foot pain.  The pain has returned, in abundance, but sporadically.  And I have self-diagnosed my problem as plantar fasciitis.  How do I know?  Well, I have a textbook case.  I run on uneven surfaces.  I’ve been running in worn shoes.  The pain is in the heal and arch.  It’s the worst in the mornings, etc. 

Friday, before I knew that I had this dreadful condition, I drove up into Saddleback Mountains (a very long, rocky dirt road) to stash 200 flluid ounces of water at Modjeska Peak for this morning’s long run.  The drive was delightful and scenic, but also very stressful.  I had to focus so hard on my driving (so that  didn’t wreck my truck or drive off the mountain), that I was actually drained upon returning.  It seemed actually more tiring to drive the route than to run it.  (I wouldn’t be able to run it though, carrying all that water).

A proud trail runner, for the first time stashing water in the mountains by myself : )

The drive down from Modjeska Peak:

Well, since I had already stashed water and planned to meet Cody L. for another training run, I wasn’t going to miss this morning’s run.  Pain or no pain.  Thing was, when I got out of bed at 4:30 AM, I practically fell to the ground when I stepped down on my left foot.  I iced my foot as I got ready and I was on the road by 5:00 AM wondering how I was going to do this.

First off, I cut our route short about 5 miles.  Instead of 28, we went for nearly 23.  It included two peaks, Santiago and Modjeska, lots of elevation, and a delightfully cool morning (but not minus the gnats).  I’m certainly grateful for Cody.  If he hadn’t made the long trip out, I may have not got in this run. 

Setting off up Holy Jim under darkness:

As I worked into this morning’s run, my foot pain became very bearable.  We made decent time to Bear Springs (top of Holy Jim), though we were five minutes slower than last week.  The best thing was, I made it to Santiago Peak in 2:46 (my record is 2:45 from what I recall).  Cody made it in 2:40 (but it was only his first time there – I have been to “the peak” countless times now).  It’s a hard, hard climb for me.  Very stressful.  To deal with it, I absolutely cannot think about the climb while going up.  I pretty much can’t think about anything.  I just moved forward, running some, mostly power-hiking that final couple miles to Santiago Peak.  The views made up for some of the struggle.  And of course, finally arriving, made up for all of the struggle.

The Main Divide on the way to Santiago Peak:

I saw one runner coming down about a half mile from the top.  I didn’t recognize him. But I bet he was training for Twin Peaks.  We also saw 2 other runners at the peak.  I know one of them, and he’s definitely training for the ultra, so I bet the other guy was as well. 

A quick stop at Santiago Peak to take in the view (beneath Cody’s hat, my Saddleback Marathon t-shirt – very cool that my race shirts can go to good use : )

Group Photo:

Looking  back at Santiago Peak on the way to Modjeska Peak:

The last 8 or so miles were downhill and quite painful for me.  My foot pain became progressively worse with each step.  Four other runners training for Twin Peaks (3 who I know) met up with us on Upper Holy Jim as they made their downhill trip from the peak. They gave me some good advice on treating my foot condition.  One of the guys said I can get rid of it in five days.  FIVE DAYS!  I am following his regime, you can be sure.  (I’ll go into that in another blog entry).  

Cody and the other four guys made it down to the lot before me.  I urged each one who passed not to wait or worry about me.  (Men tend to fear that I  need help or can’t be alone if I’m having trouble on the trails.  It’s sweet and part of their upbringing.  But really, I had to do this by myself).  My pain was increasing, and I didn’t need an extra voice, caring hand or someone to try and keep up with.  I basically tilted forward and with a blank mind plodded down Holy Jim, sure in a lot of pain.  At the same time, I was oh so grateful that I was able to make this run after all. 

As I sit here writing this entry, I’m rolling a tennis ball beneath my foot.  Now it’s time to put a sock on and ice.  I shall conquer this!  I must if I’m to run Twin Peaks.  I can’t attempt 50 miles with this foot. 

Today’s profile:

Saddleback Trail Marathon 2011

After a day-long rain storm, I went to bed quite early Friday night.  I woke every single hour, forgetting what was happening Saturday morning.  Before dozing off I thought, “What’s the big thing happening in the morning?”  The answer would quickly come to me, Saddleback Marathon,  and I’d fall promptly to sleep. 

I began my drive up the mountain in the dark, and parked the truck as the sun was rising.  No snow on the ground, but it was pretty dang cold.  I wore my warmest socks.  Wearing gloves, long sleeves and a beanie, I wrapped a scarf around my neck while waiting for “the toughest marathon in California” to begin.  I don’t personally know that this is the toughest marathon in California.  But I do know that it is the toughest marathon that I have ever run. 
 

Jeremy Howes and Jeff Trevena

About 80 of us took off on this mountain run.  My feet were numb from the cold.  I knew I had to give up my scarf, so I threw it in the back of the truck as I ran by.  A multitude of runners also threw things in their trucks and cars.  My friend Jeremy threw his jacket in his truck bed and then his distance from me grew farther and farther, just as most of the runners did.

Headed toward the Main Divide for first climb

I did not make that first climb alone.  Among the runners were 3 gentlemen from Buena Park, one of them running his 117th marathon!  I did not know it then, but several runners were behind as well.  Knowing what lay ahead I decided long ago that I’d use that first climb up the Main Divide to warm up. 

Up the Main Divide headed toward Trabuco Trail

The run down Trabuco was shady and lush, a divine sight.  I noticed frost on the ground, but didn’t stop to check it out or even take a picture.  All the runners kept bundled as they made their trip down Trabuco.  Having run that trail quite a few times, I passed about 8 runners on the way down.  Then suddenly Chris Diaz (guy wearing orange shirt in video below) was right at my heels.  I didn’t even know that Chris was behind me.  He’s a super fun trail runner that I’ve met at many races.  He always beats me, but he’s so extremely supportive and friendly it’s always a pleasure when Chris passes me!
 

By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, Chris and his friend passed me by.  But I was able to pass two ladies who walked across boulders on the flatter portions of Trabuco.  I find it easier to run across them, though by the looks of the scattered boulders, they look easier to hike. 

Aid Station at bottom of Holy Jim:

I hoped to catch up with Jeremy by the Holy Jim aid station.  No such luck.  I took a couple shots of Pepsi and took off as quickly as possible, happily leaving some ladies behind using the outhouses.  I ran all of Holy Jim, as I had been training, and as I had been training, very slowly.  I can’t take it any other way right now.  My goal was to make it from the start line to Bear Springs (Top of Holy Jim) in less than 4 hours.  (2010 it took me 4:20 to make the trek). 

One by one, the runners that I passed on the way down Trabuco began passing me going up Holy Jim.  I kept up with the Buena Park men for a while.  When I lost sight of two of them, one of the guys refused to pass me, hoping to push me along (he insisted that I was going to finish this race in 6:30 or less, where my goal was a sub 7 period).  When he took off, he darted up that switchback with animal strength.  I was amazed.

I ran much of Holy Jim solo, but could see runners in the distance, most of them hiking.  As I neared Bear Springs, I began to lose faith and doubt my ability.  I thought that I was probably in last place and started to feel sorry for myself.  “You’re not in a race against others!” I told myself.  “You’re in a race against yourself, against the mountain.”

Nearing the top, I passed an older gentleman, who gave me a friendly push from behind (not on my behind, but on my back).  I laughed and thanked him.  Utterly relieved, I made it to Bear Springs in a little less than 3.5 hours!!

The run up Holy Jim:

Bear Springs aid station:

After a couple swigs of Coca-Cola I noticed a woman that I had not seen before, reach the top of Holy Jim behind me.  Her presence sent me on my way quickly.  I felt strong and confident again.  My fingers cramped somewhat, but other than that, I had no aches and pains.  I could see some runners in the distance, and passed one or two, but I didn’t see my friend anywhere and thought that I would probably not catch Jeremy.  

I found the rolling hills along The Main Divide a nice break.  Then at one point, gosh, I’m not even sure now when it was, I think it was heading up to Trabuco Peak, I spotted Jeremy.  I worked long and hard to catch him, staying to the side, hidden by the brush.  My plan was to surprise him by suddenly appearing next to him.  Every time though it seemed that I closed the gap, he would get out farther ahead.  Finally as I ran up, he turned around and saw me before I could surprise him. 

I had to fill up with fluids at the next aid station, and Jeremy was off again, disappearing from sight on the mountainside.  I found myself joking around again and stayed a bit longer at the aid station than I should have.  I took “shots” of Coca-Cola like a drunkard at a bar taking shots of Tequila. 

When I took off again, I was quick on my feet.  I wanted to pass everyone who had passed me at the last aid station.  I felt the strength and I was going to use it and ran as fast as I could, focusing on the slightly rocky terrain.  Then all of a sudden I flew through the air and comically hit the ground making a graceful roll in the dirt.  Except for a tiny scrape, there was no injury, but my calf cramped up.  (I joked at the next aid station that it was a ballerina fall).  I jumped up and continued my run as quickly as before I fell.    I passed all of the runners who passed by me at the last aid station.  I gave Jeremy a thumbs-up when I finally caught him and continued on running with strength that at this point I didn’t realize I’d have.  (Last year about here, I was ready to drop to the dirt). 

View from the Main Divide:

I ran along joyfully (seriously!), trying to close the gap between me and one other runner out there on the Main Divide that I could see in front of me.  I didn’t realize the runner was Chris at the time.  When I reached the top of the last hill, I caught up with that runner.  That’s when I realized who it was.  I took off running, giddy that I had a lead on Chris Diaz! 

I ran those last 4 miles as fast as I could.  When I’d peek behind me, Chris was no where in sight.  Then all of a sudden I noticed two women within striking distance behind me.  That got me moving faster.  I didn’t even look at my garmin to notice my time.  Suddenly all that mattered was not letting those two (I’m sure very nice) women pass me. 

I rounded the corner onto the asphalt with relief.  Still, I knew that those women could appear any time.  I ran down that pavement toward the last single-track, slowing some.  Then OUT OF NOWHERE, Chris appeared at my side.  “Dang!”  I said.  He laughed and as we both entered that single-track” he said, “Together, we’ll do this together.”  But I was in no shape to keep up with him that last half mile or so.  And I happily watched his lead grow. 

As soon as I crossed the finish line, I asked for my time.  My jaw dropped when I was told 6:01!  6:01!  I could have cried if I wasn’t so dang happy.  FINALLY, I had made a goal that I set out to accomplish.  I wanted to kill last years’ time.  I would have considered “killing” the time by beating it thirty minutes.  I truly amazed myself and did more than that – I shattered last years’ time by 1 hour and 25 minutes! 

My friend Jeremy also shattered his time by about an hour:

Saddleback Trail Marathon 2011 The Movie : )

My official time was:  6:01:55.  Out of 81 starters, 80 finished.  I placed 69.   (In 2010 my time was 7:26:23 for this trail marathon) 

ps.  I have one more thing to write.  This may seem dorky to include, especially for me, it’s not like I’m a placer.  But I have lots of people to thank who helped me train for this race by getting up before sunrise and running up in those mountains – Tom Bychowski, Michael Perlongo, Hank Guardado, many others too many to name, and lastly but definitely not least, Jeremy Howes who spent many, many hours with me running those mountains in the rain, in the heat, with enormous gnats and scary pitbulls, and freaky (yet cute) salamanders, downhill storming deer, and a few of my clumsy falls.  : )  Thanks!  I really couldn’t have done it without you guys.

Santiago Peak

Santiago Peak (known also as the “talking peak”) is the highest point in the Santa Ana Mountains.  It’s one of the two peaks of the region we call Saddleback Mountains, named after the two peaks that form a “saddleback” up there.  We can see it from miles and miles away.   When I moved out here more than twenty years ago, I never dreamt that I would “run” up to it.  I would have thought someone who did was a little bit insane.

I have never run to Santiago Peak as a trail runner.  I have never been to Santiago Peak.  But I needed to get up there, because a friend has asked that I pace him for the last twenty miles of a 50 mile race (the 50 miles has 17,000 of elevation gain!).  He will go to this peak twice; I will accompany him on the second time.  Honored to be asked to pace, I gladly accepted.  So, I figure it’s my JOB to get to know that peak well.  Time is fleeting.

I was very lucky to have three others accompany me:  (from left to right – Me, Tom, Michael, Jeremy).

I didn’t feel my strongest this morning.  I plugged away up Holy Jim which was nice and dark from shade at first.  The gnats came on strong at first too.  As soon as we got out of the shade and the climb began to increase, I fortunately lost those annoying gnats.  They focus on the face, fly into your mouth, up your nose, into your ears.  I spit out several.  And at one point, I felt something on my front tooth and upon investigating found a smashed gnat.

Fun.

The run up Holy Jim was fun too.  I felt confident that the heat would not attack us as everyone feared.

Running Holy Jim before the climb steepens

Notice the gnats on my face – just wait.

Digging deep to finish running Holy Jim

Jeremy was waiting for me at Bear Springs (on the Main Divide).  The gnats were out in extreme abundance, which is why Tom and Michael just kept on going.  As soon as I hit the Main Divide, I continued on up with Jeremy.  We stopped in the shade a ways up (when the gnats left)  so that I could pack an empty water bottle, put on a bandana.  Then all of a sudden, as we took off, a terrible, severe pain hit my calf.  I couldn’t figure out what happened.  If I had been alone, I would have turned back then and there because I really didn’t think I could take the pain all the way to the top.  I told Jeremy to go ahead, that I’d either catch up or text him if I turned back. 

I stretched, but could barely hold it.  I took some salt pills, and I moved onward.  Hiking.  I had come this far, I decided that I was going TO THE TOP.   I didn’t know how I was going to do it, when suddenly I realized something I read recently – that pain doesn’t exist in the present.  I know that sounds extremely odd.  Without going into pages on this concept, I’ll just say that I  focused on staying in the very moment I was in.  Surprise, surprise!  When I was able to do that, my pain completely disappeared!  Not for long though.  I couldn’t keep it up – staying in the moment that is.  The heat was growing and the climb grew steeper.

The Main Divide going up to Santiago Peak

Tom meets me on his way down from peak in hopes to beat the heat. 

Sweating it out while the gnats attack full force (they don’t bite – they’re just annoying as heck!) If you click pic for a larger view & look very closely you should see gnats EVERYWHERE, look to chin, shoulder, bandana – you can even see their shadows.

Finally, we reached the peak.  All 3 of us meandered around the towers, took photos, readjusted, basically taking our sweet time before taking off.  I was WORN OUT.  The pain in my calf continued to bother me, but to a lesser extent.  The gnats were not at the top thankfully.  There were workers installing new generators.  There were motocross riders, motorcycle riders, mountain bikers.  No other runners, or even hikers. 

Why it’s known as “Talking Peak.”

Posing at the top

The view from Santiago Peak

Locating landmarks, our neighborhoods, etc.

Then it was time for the run down.  It had to be 100 F.  We took upper Holy Jim down to the Main Divide.  Spreading apart quickly,  I ran that single track alone.  It grew quite technical at the end with boulders and lots of twists and turns, not to mention steepness.  With that heat bearing down, I wanted nothing more than to reach Lower Holy Jim.  That’s when I would finally get some shade. 

I didn’t see either of the guys at Lower Holy Jim, so I focused on running quickly, careful not to trip.  I imagined the two were already down at the truck waiting for me.  I do not think that I can adequately describe just how hot that run was going down Holy Jim.  It felt like blow torches were scorching my legs.  My bandana had completely dried.  I guzzled down so many fluids (with Nuun tablets dissolved in it) that I feared that I would run out.  I brought with me 100 fl. ounces.  And I had one handheld left tied to the back of my pack.

After about a mile down this five mile trail I came across Michael in a shady part as he wetted down his shirt in the tiny creek that ran across the trail.  I was so hot I was a little confused and had just drank the last of my fluids in my pack.  Michael stood up and said, “I’m out of water.”  I told him that I’d split my remaining handheld with him.  Then I said, “Where’s Tom?”

Michael looked at me with a funny look.  “Tom?” he said.  Then, he seemed to me that he was confused at my comment.  “Ah, he left . . . Tom?” 

I had forgotten that “Tom” (the one who had already run down).  I was confusing Jeremy’s name with the other Tom I knew.  Finally, it dawned on me.  “Jeremy!  Where’s Jeremy?”  I don’t know if you realize my surprise that I even found Michael and then learned that Jeremy was behind me.  I was imagining they were way, way ahead of me.

So, there Michael and I were, stooped down in the shade, splitting up hot water when Jeremy came running up.  “I’m out of water,” he said. 

Yikes.  Now it was time to split up my water 3 ways, when Jeremy noticed that the source of the creek was coming from a spring in a small cutout in the mountain wall.  “This water’s filtered,” Jeremy said, “It’s coming from the ground.”  He filled up his handhelds, saw that it was clear and drank up.  Michael and I were reluctant.  Then I finally gave in, filled my handhelds and guzzled down delicious ice cold water.  I really couldn’t have cared less if I was going to be vomiting for it later.  Michael gave in too, and we were off running again, refilled for the remaining 4 miles.

Those four miles downhill were the longest, most difficult four miles I can remember in a long, long time.  Though I was able to keep heat exhaustion at bay, I fell once (more like slipped) and my ice-cold water turned downright hot.  No kidding! 

As I ran down Holy Jim, I got a view of the trail like I never had running up it.  I thought to myself, “I run up this thing.  I. AM. CRAZY.”  I felt like I never, ever wanted to run again. 

I came in right behind Jeremy to the truck.  And we both looked at each other as if to say “O. M. G.”

We found Michael laying down in the creek.  He had found a nice pool down stream that we couldn’t even think of walking to.  So we simply sat in the stream where we were to cool down. 

When I finally got back to my truck (parked about 5 miles away), my limp was strong.  Only after a cold bath at home and some stretching has the pain subsided a great deal.  I can now walk around without a limp.  And I’m pretty sure it’s a cramp not an injury.  I’ve just never had a cramp like this. 

One more thing, my little delusional moment when I thought I might never run again is gone.  I just probably won’t run tomorrow.  In all, I’m glad I made the trip to Santiago Peak.  And I plan to again.  The views were breathtaking.  The company was great.  I did feel a little badly being that I planned today’s run and it ended up so dang hot.  Hopefully today’s experience will make us all stronger. 

Approaching Holy Jim end

At creek, assessing leg for wounds due to fall earlier (nothing major, just two tiny cuts)

16.61 miles logged

+4,704 / -4,749 feet

When the Cussin’ Ceases on Holy Jim

This morning I finally got back to the mountains (Thanks to Jeremy H. and Hank G.), specifically my favorite trail Holy Jim.  I never run the mountains alone, so I am most appreciative that I had these two friends to run with.

My history with Holy Jim Trail in the Cleveland National Forest:  I first “ran” Holy Jim during the Saddleback Marathon last November.  That race was the first time I had ever laid eyes on the trail.  I ran the beginning portions, but somewhere along the switch-back climbing, I lost all energy and had to hike.  I began leg and foot cramping toward the end, and even found myself crawling through several inches of acorns to reach the top.  I had no idea when it was going to end, so the experience was pretty much torturous.  I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I said one or two cuss words on Holy Jim that day.

That experience really “got my goat”.  I wasn’t going to let Holy Jim chew me up like that again.  My goal is to make it up that five mile trail as much as possible.

General History of Holy Jim Trail:  The trail is named after James T. Smith who lived in a cabin off the trail during the late 1800’s.  He was a beekeeper who also grew fig trees.  He was originally known by the name “Cussing Jim.”  Apparently, according to one source Jim was “a man given to blasphemous eloquence. When he started cussing. . . he could peel paint off a stove pipe."  Anyway, when surveyors arrived in 1870, they thought it more appropriate to name the canyon “Holy Jim” instead of “Cussing Jim.”

Today’s Adventure:  I actually started off this trail run feeling cold.  That’s a laugh, because not fifteen minutes in I ached to take off my long-sleeved shirt.  But I waited until our detour where we stopped at Holy Jim Falls.  After a quick few pictures, I peeled off that shirt and took off again behind Hank and Jeremy toward the trail.  The climb up Holy Jim was breathtakingly beautiful.  Yet, it was HOT.  Go figure. 

I ran the entire Holy Jim Trail, sure at times at a snail’s pace.  Hank lead the pack and waited patiently at the Bear Springs on the Main Divide as Jeremy and I arrived.  From there, the weather grew even hotter.  But it was bearable.  Only once did my temperature rise to 2 degrees above normal.  Mostly, despite feeling otherwise, it remained normal or at most 1 degree above. 

The big climb on Lake Elsinore’s side of the Main Divide nearly did me in.  But I kept my eyes on the prize – DOWNHILL and a cold creek at the bottom.  Jeremy ran out of water first.  Not that he came ill-prepared.  He brought along more than I.  It was just that hot out this morning along the ridge.  We drained our water quickly.  That worried me a bit, so I began to conserve my fluids as we ran that rocky switch-back down Horsethief.  I tripped SEVERAL times.  I never fell. 

Upon finally reaching the canyon, I drenched myself in the nearly ice-cold creek.  Jeremy came up and did the same.  And then I ran on in those last extremely hot and long remaining three plus miles, running out of water with about 2.5 miles remaining.  I hadn’t seen Jeremy since the creek or Hank since somewhere on Horsethief.  I knew how to get back.  But I worried that Hank, being such an excellent runner, was going to get out so far ahead he could take a wrong turn (he’s used to trails elsewhere).  And I worried about Jeremy’s lack of water for so long.  He had decided to conserve energy and was back behind me.  Apparently though, Jeremy seemed to handle lack of fluids WAY better than I do. (I think it’s the mother in me, because there was no need to worry).

I met up with Hank on Trabuco and we ran on into the lot and straight into the stream.  I wanted to lay down in it.  Instead we just drenched ourselves with that cold, cold water until Jeremy came in.  And this is how well Jeremy takes lack of water.  He didn’t even dive into the creek, he went straight to the car, got some water and chatted with mountain bikers until Hank and I finally pulled ourselves from the stream to head on home.

Great run!  Wonderful company!

Miles logged:  14.3 (23.01km) / ps.  I should note that I wore my regular New Balance Trail shoes, not the Minimus due to the length and harshness of this run.

Scenes from today’s Holy Jim (Cussin’ Jim) Run:

Prepped to go (left to right, Jeremy, Hank & Me):

Stream Crossing on Holy Jim Trail:

Holy Jim Falls (photo compliments of Jeremy):

View climbing Holy Jim:

Glorious shade on Holy Jim Trail:

Nearing top of Holy Jim:

Jeremy running Main Divide:

View toward The O.C. at Indian Truck Trail and Main Divide Junction:

(Photo compliments of Jeremy)

Ready to descend on Horsethief:

Flowers along Horsethief:

View from Horsethief:

Trabuco Canyon:

Elevation Profile: