Trail Mimicking

I am a trail runner.  If it makes any sense, I am more a trail runner than I am a runner.  Even when circumstances bring me to the road, I search out something that can somehow mimic the trail.  Though nothing so far truly mimics the trail, I have had lots of fun lately with my boulder hopping.

I still have to run the streets to get to these boulders.  And I must admit the cars freak me out.  People tell me they are afraid of snakes and spiders and other wildlife – but what about cars?  They weigh more than anything I find out on the trail.  And they can flatten me in an instant.  I just don’t trust cars – I mean cars, not necessarily their drivers.  A tire could blow, and next thing I know that car is flying toward me as I run peacefully along the sidewalk.

Well . . . I’ll not think about that. 

My biggest dream as a child was not any particular career.  It was not to be rich or drive a fancy car.  My biggest dream was to live in a beach town.  I was living in a beach town by age 23.  And I had many great years wasting lots of time in the surf and sand.  I am very fortunate.

Funny how now, I want to “waste” lots of time in the mountains.  Every day when I look out to Saddleback Mountains, I’m drawn to drive up there and run.  Unfortunately, it just costs too much dang money and time to run the mountains every day during my running streak.

So, day 23 of this streak, I again headed out my front door to the beaches.  And even though I ran plenty of road, I had a terrific time working up a sweat.  My mission today:  run the boulders at Monarch Beach.  I am getting better, much better at maneuvering my feet over these large boulders.  I move side to side, hop up, jump down.  There was a time, many a year ago, that I could barely hike those rocks. 

What fun!

Scenes from today’s run:

St. Regis Hotel:

Making my way down to Monarch Beach:

Time for boulder hopping:

Making my way to the prize:

My dirty shoes standing on nature’s colorful beauty:

Some of the prize:

The big prize after all that boulder hopping – my own private beach:

Running Monarch Beach:

Big Wednesday :

Running Salt Creek:

The Strands:

Miles run on day 23 of Streaking into the New Year: 10.79 (17.36 km)

Strength Granted / 100 Week Goal Hit

Day Seven 100 Mile Week Celebration/Challenge: 100.09 Miles Run

My husband thought it was all over for me on Thursday.  He said I ought to say, “Ah . . . I meant 100 Km!”

Friday night I said to him, with a whisper of a voice (because I lost it somewhere on my runs), “If I don’t improve vastly overnight, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow” was Saturday, today, the 7th day of my 100 mile week celebration/challenge.  I went to bed early, with another “shot” of severe cough and cold medicine.  I slept pretty good until midnight when I woke with a coughing fit.  After chewing a cherry-honey Ricola, I fell promptly back to sleep, then experienced wild dreams of a lunatic trying to kill me.  He succeeded, then I’d play the story over and over again, trying new things so that he couldn’t succeed in killing me again.  But each time I changed my moves, so did he.  I remember climbing up crazy-high fire escapes and riding falling elevators.  Not fun. 

6:00 AM arrived, and I woke out of habit (I set my alarm for 6:30).  Thankfully, my throat no longer ached.  After two cups of coffee, I foam rolled my IT band, calves and hips.  Then at 7:30 AM, I ran out the front door for the last segment of my 100 miles to celebrate Holy Week.

I will try and make a very long story short(ish).  I began this run on an uphill which was very tough.  I felt weak.  Reaching the top of the hill was a great relief as I made my way down to complete the first leg of this run.  Great relief does not exactly equate to “fun.”  I still felt overly fatigued.  Then while listening to Eminem on my ipod (I know some of you laugh), he sang the words, “Lord grant me the strength . . . “  And I thought, “Man!  What Am I doing?  Those should be my words.”  And so I chanted those same words until my tiredness departed and I began to enjoy this lovely morning and the feeling of triumph, as I finished off my 100 miles.

I told myself “Your’re only running  4 sets of a little less than 4 miles.”  I didn’t plan out each segment in advance, instead I decided as I ran, and promised myself not to look at mileage until I reached the end of a “segment.”  Last thing I wanted was to stress over mileage.  I really wanted to enjoy this run on such a glorious and beautiful day.

After that first downhill, I ran a straightaway, then down some more to the beaches at the northern end of town – Monarch, Salt Creek and Dana Strands.  By the time I made my way to the surf, I felt normal – like I hadn’t pushed myself to the limits this past week. 

Segment 1 was probably the longest, but by far, the most enjoyable.  I ran along wet sand, visited tide pools.  The mood on the beaches was festive with surfers, walkers, runners and sun tanners all enjoying the early morning sun.

Running down into Salt Creek/Monarch Beach

Running Dana Strands

Leg 2 included the upper portion of my town, “The Headlands,” which meant a nice climb back UP.  But climbing up also meant trails, lovely trails.  I ran them for a couple miles, stopping once to take off my long sleeves and empty my shoes of sand.

View looking back at Monarch Beach, Salt Creek & The Strands 

Running Headlands, Overlooking Marina & Island (Island is Leg 3)

Sculpture of Richard Henry Dana, Jr.  (Author of Two Years Before the Mast) throwing cowhides off the cliff down to The Pilgrim well before the marina existed (1830s)

Running Down Into Leg 3 – The Marina Island

I felt great during leg 3.  People roamed the island, squirrels scampered about as pigeons excited little children who exclaimed “Look at that pretty bird.”  (How wonderful to think of pigeons as pretty birds rather than annoying pests who try to steal your picnic food).  Outriggers rowed the calm waters inside the jetty.  Windsurfers paddled against slight winds.  Party goers decorated gazebos for birthdays and pre-Easter celebrations – a true delight. 

A View From Island (Headlands In Background, From Whence I Came)

Sculpture Of Richard Henry Dana, Jr. Greeting Incomers To Marina Island

Leg 4 of my run to end Holy week went relatively quickly, though I found it difficult not to stare down the garmin.  I was tired somewhat, but making sure I didn’t drag my feet (by listening closely to my step), I was able to keep decent form, which meant for an enjoyable end. 

Though a car nearly plowed into me during Leg 4 (and it wasn’t my fault, it was his – a lot of good “fault” does if he hit me), I didn’t lose spirit.  I ran along the marina, through the wharf, then the main road.  I ended my lowlands run through Doheny Beach and on the bridge then over San Juan Creek, or actually the estuary, as it is where the river meets the ocean.  And then I ran back up Highway One home.  I chose (on purpose) the least grade back.  And since that climb was gradual, it was enjoyable.  And as I ran up the driveway of my home, I heard my middle son yell out with glee from the living room, “ONE HUNDRED MILES!”  What a pleasure that was!

Happy Easter.

Miles Logged today:  15.32

One of those days, when I just can’t get out the door . . .

5:30 AM my cellphone sang its annoying tune for an early long run that I had planned in pretty good detail.  I woke promptly, made a pot of coffee.  As it brewed, I booted up my laptop, surfed the net.  Then I drank one cup of coffee, turned off the computer, pulled a blanket off the living room floor and fell back asleep on the couch.

Perhaps I should have gotten everything ready last night – clothes, pack, etc.  But I didn’t.  I really wasn’t THAT tired.   I could have run the huge elevation I had planned.  But it was cold out.  And you know what?   I just couldn’t get myself out there.  You’d think I was past of the age of feeling guilty over running.   But I really felt badly for not dragging my butt off the couch.

9:00, the first one to wake during this spring break Wednesday, was my middle boy.  I finally woke, amazed that I had slept in so late after going to bed at 9:30 PM.  Yikes. (I guess I was tired).

Though it’s spring break for me and our three boys, it is not for hubby, who works out of the home office.  This means of course, that it’s mainly me and the boys, that there’s little time, except when everyone’s sleeping for me to squeeze in a run.  Anyway, I really felt like I needed a run.  Except for floor exercises, I haven’t got in any exercise since Sunday!

Today is Wednesday.  I thought spring break was going to make things easier.  Actually, for the opposite is the case.

But I gotta run.  SO.  Today I went for a lackadaisical run.  I needed to mail a bill, so I ran to the post office.  After that, I simply ran some more.

Now’s a good time to clarify something.   I really have nothing  against road runners.  I hope I have not insulted road runners.  Sure, I joke and make comments about running roads.  But heck, I started off running roads.  Overall, I personally do not prefer running the road for many reasons, 1) is drivers (that is automobiles)  2) is there’s much more impact on the body, plus many more reasons I have pointed out in various blogs.  In the end, we are all runners, road or trail.  I respect and admire all runners, road or trail.

Today, on a total whim  I decided to run to the headlands and ran the entire trail system there, then down to the beach (Dana Strands) and continued on through the next two beaches (Salt Creek & Monarch Beach).

Today’s afternoon run began at 2PM (I very rarely run afternoons) and it was relatively short.  I vividly remember when my long runs were 3 miles.  I had to push through those, even when I didn’t feel like it, for a few years before I could call today’s run a short run. 

Anyway, since this was a “short” run, I hope not to spend too much time writing about it (that’s a laugh, most times I write and write and write).  I will say this:  I witnessed mystifying sea creatures (anemones, coral, muscles).   A perfectly cool wind blew against my face, so delightful that I didn’t want it to end.  The tide was low therefore allowing lots of wet sand to run upon.  Plenty of pelicans swept down low, an amazing mere inches above the sea.  And the hill I ran up to get off the beaches, I used to have to walk backward in my twenties in order to move onward.

A few pictures from today’s 7.26 mile lackadaisical  afternoon run:

Overlooking marina from the headlands trail system:

Lovely purple flowers on the headlands

Headland trails (they REALLY want to make sure we stay on trail)

Tide pools (Dana Strands)

Beach Running

Monarch Beach

Running back up to town (through Salt Creek Beach)

Running beneath road (homeward bound)

Total Miles logged this afternoon:  7.26

One Week (Exactly) Hence

Exactly one week has passed since Camp Pendleton's Hard Corps Marathon.  And eventhough I was pretty bad off (cramp-wise), I am way better off (recovery-wise) than my first marathon  (SD Rock N' Roll Marathon).  I haven't looked it up, but if memory serves me correctly, two weeks passed before I fully recovered from my first marathon.  This time, aside from cramping the second day, I felt pretty much recovered right away.

I have been preoccupied with life over the past week; it has tired me so.  Still, I set my alarm for a run this morning, though I would have rather slept in.  Actually, so much as been going on, that though I yearned to run during it all, when it comes right down to it, I would rather lay in bed and zone-out.  Zone-out ALL DAY LONG.

But I'm old enough to know what's better for me -- even if I do have a chorizo burrito dinner. : ) (Bad Girl!)

Goal this morning: Hills. Just 2 short weeks from now, I heading up Bulldog (at Malibu Creek Park), and having lost a lot of my hill training during physical therapy, I figured today was a good day for hills. I couldn't make the trails though (not enough time with the stuff going on 'round here), so I ran out my front door, first on a down hill to the highway, which I took down even further for a nice flat run on Del Obispo. I forgot to focus on form, and I forgot my mantra, which probably explains why I never really got out of my slump.

I'm not talking about a terrible slump. It's just that, the euphoria never hit. Then again, I kept the mileage on the low side.

After running the flat portion, I began my climb up Stonehill. Waving at a neighbor who seemed to be shocked at seeing me running up this hill at 7:30 in the morning, I turned left on Selva to run a steady climb, for a good two-thirds of the entire length of Selva. Reaching the high point of the city, I barely noticed the Pacific Ocean (it was a gray day), instead focusing on the music of my ipod.

My mood began to lift some when I finally reached the stairway leading down to The Strands (a small beach that's usually pretty empty). My mood didn't lift because it was empty, but because it was like meeting an old friend.  I love The Strands. 

Running on down to The Strands

The Rock Stacker at it again


Quick Stop at the cliffs to greet my friends

Not much hills to run on the sand.  I ran The Stands (there and back), Salt Creek and Monarch Beach, then began my ascent up the windy trail toward the highway.  I ran under the highway, then up the staircase to the apartments my husband and I lived in for nearly ten years (before the children).  From there I ran up Stonehill, a pretty good climb that I would have never dreamt of running twenty years ago when we lived there. 

The morning was still young when I arrived home, happy to see all my boys awake, eating breakfast and not yet raising havoc.   Miles logged this morning:  8.2

Getting Closer to Countdown

With no chance of being ready for Saturday's marathon, I took off for a run this morning, a road run, but jammed-packed with hills.  I'm not even sure I can run the 26.2 miles within the time limit.  My goal is simply to finish (if they let me), uninjured and most importantly SMILING.

So the hills of this beachside town provided quite a strenuous workout this morning.  It was a beautiful run, and the weather was oh so cool.  After making my way inland, I climbed Stonehill feeling strong, then made my way down toward the northern beaches. 

The fountain in front of St. Regis Hotel / I couldn't help think of this weekend's waterfalls, the contrast and similarities.

Heading toward the condemned path that leads to Monarch Beach (Aliso Canyon is just on the otherside of the hills in the background)

On the downhill, getting closer to the Pacific Ocean (Monarch Beach)

Running through the tunnel at the golf course (The Links).  Pacific Coast Highway is above me.

I dabbled with taking video, practicing for the marathon.  Turns out, I don't do too well holding the camera still while running.  The Pacific was choppy this morning, the tide on the high side (though there was plenty of sand on most of the beaches).  I ran Monarch Beach, Salt Creek and The Strands, then ran back up to Pacific Coast Highway via the windy path up Salt Creek's green belt.  After a nice long climb, I finally came in for a lovely downhill, no pain, at 10.80 miles logged for the morning.

Self photo at Salt Creek/Monarch Beach 

Rounding the bluff, The Strands in the distance, most of its beach taken by the tide

Standing at the base of the cliff that ends The Strands Beach

Heading back on The Strands -- Monarch Beach and Salt Creek in distance

Spontaneous Turns

I looked forward to my Sunday run when I went to bed Saturday night. Sunday morning, 6AM, I crawled out of bed. I thought seriously about skipping it and sleeping in. But after 2 cups of coffee and over an hour later, I finally took those lonely steps out the door.

It was COLD. The breeze blew at my face, my legs were numb. I pulled my cashmere beanie over my ears and pulled on those gloves. (I wore shorts because of the pockets -- I knew that I'd need them later). With an ipod loaded with new music (not new as in recently recorded, but new as in music I haven't heard in a while), and ran myself into oblivion. I mean, I ran, and ran, and ran . . .

Not an hour in, my beanie was stuffed in my belt, my gloves in my pockets, my face and legs now enjoying that cold breeze. I ran inland for a while, up, up, up, then made my way down the condemned bike path to Monarch Beach. Waves roared and crashed violently on the shore. Dozens of surfers dotted the waters, runners and walkers alike made their way across the sand. The tide was high, but receding. Blue skies, white clouds -- absolutely gorgeous!

I ran at a slant on Monarch. The sand leveled out by the time I reached Salt Creek. The surf ate up much of Dana Strands, but I ran as much of the sand as I could, and taking a detour up the rocks, ran all the way to the cliffs, where I wondered if hopping up onto the cliff base was a good idea. There was little room to stand as the waves crashed all around me. Last thing I needed was to be swept into that cold water : (

And so I ran back across the sand and ran up the hill at Salt Creek towards town. I made a SPONTANEOUS turn back onto Highway One. Having not run this portion before, I didn't know there wasn't a sidewalk on the side of the street that I wanted. I like to run facing the traffic. And since I wasn't gonna run in the street, I crossed the highway for the sidewalk. Cars whizzed by, 50 mph plus, causing some anxiety. I noticed my breathing became labored -- nervousness? Or maybe I ran faster just to get off that part of the highway.

Coming into town, I noticed the new trail system on the bluffs was complete, so I took another SPONTANEOUS turn and ran up onto the Headlands where plenty of walkers made their way through the narrow landscaped trail that meandered in many directions. I knew I didn't have much time left to finish up this run, but I pushed it to fit in some more of my favorites -- the Cliffside path, pedestrian bridge, Doheny Beach, the jetty and wharf, when I finally made that climb up the big hill home.

Whew! I was a little tired. : ) I'm sure glad though that I didn't decide on sleeping in.

Total miles logged on Sunday: 15.63

52 Runners Total -- 4 of them barefoot (53 if I include myself who was running with shoes : )

Another Run At It (What are you running from?)

Saturday:

Aliso Wood Cyns Park was packed this morning (at 8AM -- much later than I'm usually there on a weekend) -- there were groups of cyclists converging in the parking lot, whole cross country teams mingling about. I drove right on by the ranger station (having finally figured out how to get to the the end of Wood Canyon via automobile without getting lost first -- that is to Canyon Vistas Park).

Skies were cloudy and gray. I wore my sleeves long, a beanie on my head (& I even debated on whether to wear pants). Crowds, crowds, everywhere were crowds. But it was the good kind of crowd, not the mall sort of crowd, or freeway sort of crowd. Crowds on bikes, crowds carrying water, walking sticks . . .

The air was cold as I took off into the canyon. Turning off Wood Canyon Trail right away, I faced Cholla anxiety-free. Then I commenced to run up Cholla the same time with 4 cyclists. Talk about pressure. One of the guys kept a constant lead on me, the other three I left in the dust. Thus I figure: it's a hell of a lot tougher to cycle Cholla than it is to run it. Needless to say, upon reaching Westridge, I promptly tucked the beanie in my belt and rolled up my sleeves.

I saw a lot of people, mainly runners and hikers struggling up and down Westridge, particularly toward the end. I made it to the Top of the World about two minutes faster than Thursday's run and two minutes quicker making it down. I was pleased with the improvement.

Miles logged 5.9

Sunday:

Depression came for a visit this morning when I got to thinking about my reasons for running. I've often heard this question: Are you running away from something or are you running to something? I kinda chuckled when I heard this, never really thought about the question UNTIL TODAY when I wept over the fact that I'm running AWAY. Yes, that is my motivation, that's what gets me up sometimes at 4 AM, that's what puts me on the road driving for hours to run out in the desert, that's what gets me out the door on cold, cold mornings. I'm running away from something. That something is MYSELF. That's why I run! I run to bury my feelings of inadequacy. I run to entomb the loser. And that made me sad.

After dwelling over this for the entire morning and some of the afternoon, I finally laced up my road shoes and ran out the door. I ran straight up the hill and turned to climb another previously daunting hill, reaching the city's high point. I wore no watch, carried no water, didn't even bring a phone. I wore my ipod though, for fear of being alone; I was afraid of what I might think.

Turns out, I didn't think much at all. I ran down to the beach, where the tide was high, the surf rough. I ran up to the rock cliffs, hopped tide pools and climbed up and over the rock wall with waves crashing at my feet. Then after crawling over a huge boulder wedged between the cliff wall and another larger boulder, I took in the choppy ocean beneath sunny skies mixed with rain clouds threatening to burst. Waves crashed up onto the rock ledge as I took this in. I noticed tiny fish swimming in the pools up there.

I took care making my way back down the rock face. A fall here meant a certain plunge into the ocean, with perhaps a few head gnashes along the way. And then I was off again on the sand, running Dana Strands, Salt Creek and Monarch Beaches. It was an uphill climb practically the entire way back home.

And I felt a lot better.

Miles logged: 6.7