With Focus, But Without Fear

If I had remembered our recent big rains, I would have jumped out of bed this morning to head for the mountains.  Instead, I woke groggy, sorely tempted to call off today’s run, or at the very least, postpone it to later in the day.  As it was, two of my boys are spending the night away.  I wanted to be back from my run before they left.  And so, I set off preparing for my mountain run at 5:00 AM.  (It wasn’t 5 minutes later that I felt fully awake).

I’ll cut to the most important aspects of today’s run along my 14 mile loop.  First off, the wind strongly blew in and out of the canyon in long, cool bursts.  The sound of it rustling through the trees was delightful and moved me onward nearly effortlessly.  Also, the water roared along Trabuco Creek, which was brim full (well, not actually brim, but a heck of a lot fuller than bone-dry, like it’s been for so long).  It was all very fair-tale like.  I didn’t really begin to “feel” the run until I got out of this forest and headed up the giant switchback named Holy Jim.

The five mile trip up Holy Jim was peaceful.  It was cool.  And the time flew by after a fellow adventurer caught up with me from behind.  (Mark, whom I have met before – once on The Main Divide on my way to Santiago Peak, and the first time many years ago, in my house at my oldest son’s five-year-old birthday party).  Today, I marched up much of Holy Jim exchanging fun (often hilarious) wilderness stories with Mark.  It’s amazing to me how the major themes among endurance runners/hikers are so similar among us (injury stories, getting lost, encounters – so much fun to learn). 

We continued on at the same pace on the Main Divide.  Just before reaching Santiago Peak, Mark took off ahead to close up the same loop that I was running – Holy Jim/West Horsthief.  I didn’t see him again after that.  But I did see his footprints.  That’s something I notice nowadays – footprints – mine and others.  (More than once I’ve needed to rely on footprints to find my way back).

 The Main Divide Overlooking Lake Matthews:

Running alone down West Horsethief, I came upon two or three groups of hikers struggling up that wretched climb. I also fell not once, BUT THREE TIMES during the rockiest portions.  Each fall was more like a slow motion slip.  Each time, I landed on my rear.  And each time, I fell at the exact moment where I grew timid and slowed on the rocks.    The best way to traverse down tricky hills is with tiny steps and loosely.  Loosely is the key for me – I must run West Horsethief carefree, with focus, but without fear.  Actually, this plan will work best for any trail. 

Happy trails. 

Today’s route:  Holy Jim/The Main Divide/West Horsethief, Trabuco.  14.06 miles.  Weekly goal of 45 miles:  Achieved!

Unspeakable Beauty (Trail Running in the Saddleback Mountains)

To bed early (9:00 AM – oh the glory!), I woke at 4 AM.  I hoped to make the drive to the Holy Jim trailhead by 5:40.  But I lazed around the house too long, drinking coffee, casually dressing, that I didn’t arrive until 5:50.  (At least I planned ahead and got my gas the night prior).

On my offroad drive into Trabuco Canyon, I noticed a smoldering camp fire.  A slight breeze blew through the canyon and I didn’t want to take my chances that this fire might spread.  Sure, I could escape, but what about my truck and all those cabins nestled into the canyon.    First off, and more importantly, who sets an illegal fire in the first place, then doesn’t completely extinguish it???  If you’re going to set an illegal fire, be DANG SURE TO PUT IT OUT.  I don’t mean to be judgmental, but am I wrong? Utterly annoyed, I turned my truck around.  Kicking dirt at the fire didn’t do much, as the dirt was compacted and dry.  Remembering that I had plenty of water in my truck, I eventually doused out the fire and headed onward into the canyon.  Not only did these careless fire makers risk a disaster, but they also cost me time.  Oh, the humanity!!!

I arrived to Holy Jim Parking lot, utterly alone.  As I strapped on my vest, I heard voices in the distance and wondered, who the heck is playing in the creek at this hour?  When I finally set out, I saw two runners coming into the lot.  I knew both by sight.  One of the men went to college with my husband, the other I’ve seen running all over the mountains.  Though we are more acquaintances than anything else, I can tell you, it was sure nice to see to familiar faces in a desolate canyon at this hour.  We chatted for a short bit and headed off in opposite directions.
 

I took off up Holy Jim trail, a relentless five-mile uphill switchback to The Main Divide (a truck trail that meanders back and forth behind and front of the mountain with Orange and Riverside County Views).

I have NEVER noticed this sign before (go figure):
More Holy Jim, switchback after switchback, through forest and desert-like terrain:
Looks like the spirit of Caballo Blanco making his way through this canyon (notice the horse head shape of the clouds):

The scenery was so beautiful this morning, I wasted much time taking photos.  I also took some extra time working on form – that is keeping my head and shoulders even with my hips while making my way up hill.  This form felt awkward for some time.  I felt like I was in a marching band, and also like my rear end was sticking out.  But when I checked, I found my column straight.  Odd.
 

I did not see one person travelling up or down Holy Jim.  This of course was perfectly fine with me.  When I’m working on form, I don’t really appreciate company of strangers because I don’t want competition to take over.  The mountains were desolate on this wonderful morning.  Peaceful and serene.  After the parking lot, I didn’t speak a single word.

The final stretch of Holy Jim:

I made it to the top of Holy Jim (Bear Springs) ten minutes slower than my slow time.  Great relief set in as I made my way along The Main Divide.  My ankle cause minor pain, nothing terrible.  But still it worried me.  I took two ibuprofen (Yes, I know that is a no-no).  Overall the Main Divide was unspeakably beautiful.  I could not help but stop to take a few pictures.  I was after all running ABOVE the clouds.  I can’t think of anything that compares to running above the clouds.  It’s a surreal experience running up and down, up and down those rolling hills for several miles.  The mere perfection of this beauty is simply mind-boggling.
   

At last I made it to the infamous West Horsethief.  What a relief!  I tried, and I tried oh so hard to become one with the land travelling down this difficult trail.  I loosened up; I kicked out the back.  And I did pretty dang good for a while.  Then when the fist-sized boulders set in, I began slipping and sliding.  Perhaps I should have slowed my pace.  But my goal was to keep my pace up down West Horsethief.  During races, I lose time going down this trail.  And I hate to lose time running down hill.  Perhaps I didn’t concentrate or focus hard enough.  I’m not sure.  But after several slips and slides, I finally fell.  Fortunately, I fell on my ass, which has lots of cushion.  After impact, I came down on my right wrist, which caused only minimal pain at first, and then it was over.  Even after the fall, I continued to slip and slide down West Horsethief – big bummer, but what a gigantic adventure! 

Despite this approximate 15 mile difficult terrain, I made it back to the truck with energy to spare.  Unfortunately, I’ve been icing my ankle off and on all night. 

Here’s to a quick healing --  here! here!!

Ready to descend on West Horsethief:

At Last!

I have been sick over the past week.  At the same time, I’ve been working more hours than ever (well, not really ever, but more than in a long time).  While I wasn’t working I slept.  And when I was working, I was hopped up on “severe cold” medicine.  It tasted like brandy.  Yucky.  To make matters worse, I couldn’t run.  I was just too ill.  And that depressed me.

Yesterday, I received terribly bad news about a friend.  My heart was broken.  I needed to run.  Instead, I slept and slept.

Then yesterday, my computer also crashed.  This time for good.  My truck then began running with an unusual, disturbing noise.  Yet, the computer and car news are nothing compared to our friend’s.  They are only things.  People.  That’s what is important.  Friends and family.  Oh, and trail running.   

This morning, it was time.  I felt well for more than 18 hours.  It was time to run.  I woke easily at 4:30 AM, drove under darkness at 5:15 AM into the lovely canyon town called Silverado.  Only two other cars were parked at the Maple Springs trailhead.  But I saw no one. 

I wondered how I’d handle running uphill for 7.5 miles after an entire week off from running.  I thought it might find it brutally difficult.  Surprisingly, I simply took off running in the cool misty morning, as if nothing was amiss.  Birds sang and chirped so loudly, I thought it sounded like a jungle.  Purple lupin were in full bloom.  So were an array of different yellow, red and violet flowers. 

Running the first few miles of paved uphill on Maple Springs Road:

I warmed up right away, but didn’t want to stop to unlayer until I reached a good stopping place – something with a good lookout and a spot to set my camera for shots.  I actually have a specific stopping point on Maple Springs.  It’s at about mile four.  I don’t like to stop too much because taking off and putting back on the pack takes too much time.  When I finally reached that point, I set the camera on timed release for a quick show of the process.  (Yes, I’m silly like that)

Ready to roll:

As I ran the remainder of Maple Springs, I took in awesome beauty.  At the same time, my mind began to roam.  I sobbed once for our friend.  Then I forced myself not to think.  When anything passed my mind, I forcefully told myself, “DO NOT THINK.  ENJOY THE MOMENT.”

I spotted a deer up ahead on the way up.  She hopped away like a bunny.  I saw another on the way down.  May have been the same doe.  She hopped away like a bunny as well.  I didn’t see a single person on my way up.  At “Four Corners” where I fully expect to find cyclists and runners, I was completely alone.  It was glorious.  The air was wet.  The mist was so thick I couldn’t even see Modjeska Peak which was a mere mile away. 

A view (or non-view) of Modjeska Peak from “Four Corners.”

A quick stop at “Four Corners” before heading down:

Going down:

So glad to run today.  So, so glad

Miles run:  15.59 (25.09k)  Elevation gain: 4,223’ (1,287.2m)

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!