My Three Spring Breaks

Teaching at three schools, I had three spring breaks this year. Originally, I thought it would have been better if they all coincided. That way I would have had a full week completely off from work. My husband all along though, said, “It’s better this way.” I heard this so often from him that I grew completely annoyed and finally blurted out, “No it’s not better this way.” But turns out, it was better this way, but I’m just too stubborn to admit that out loud.

It was “better this way,” mainly because during my first week of spring break, after running with a sore throat on that Monday, I rapidly grew more ill. I ended up spending all of my off time during that spring break in bed. And I had big plans too -- with my entire mornings and afternoons off from Monday through Thursday . . . Big disappointment. So, I slept during the day, pretty much all day, then drank down some ghastly tasting medicine and drove off to my evening classes during my first spring break. Oh! All that I missed -- running along mountain trails covered in spring flowers, boosting my mileage up from the month prior . . .

Alas, that was not the case. And as usual with me, with sickness, came depression. I hate being sick. HATE. IT. I don’t even try and fight the depression. I wallow.

That week came and went, and my first spring break was over. I got to the gym a couple of times during the next two weeks. And I also learned some heartfelt news, that a friend of mine, one who played a big part in my youth, was killed in a motorcycle accident not too long after the last time we spoke, THIRTY ONE YEARS AGO. I inadvertently learned of this the day before Old Goat 50.

So, I went off into the mountains, the weekend before my next spring break, with my friend on my mind, and pitched a single man tent in the Lower Blue Jay Campgrounds for a race that I coordinate the volunteers. The race, as I mentioned above, was Old Goat 50, a race I attempted some years back, but was pulled at mile 41. It was good to get off to the mountains by myself. Well, I wasn’t totally by myself, there’s lots of people camping out the night before -- the timing crew, net control, and some of the drivers. But overall, I was alone, and had an oddly solid sound sleep, like I rarely have, camped out there in the cold. Yes, it’s still cold out here in some parts, especially in the mountains, and especially in the evenings and mornings. But I was warm and cozy in my little tent, air mattress and thick sleeping bag.

Old Goat weekend was rejuvenating. I got back to journal writing. I read a novel by lantern light. I talked to old friends. I met new friends. And I worked with a fantastic bunch of people who made the race a huge success despite some major no-shows (aid station workers, drivers and sweeps among the no-shows).

Anyway, that event got me out of my funk  just in time for my second spring break. That spring break gave me Tuesday and Thursday evenings off. But my illness had returned, just slightly, and I spent much of that extra time relaxing instead of wandering. I think I probably made it to the gym a couple of times, not totally sure, and I’m much too lazy right now to check my records. Depression though had subsided, and that’s definitely a good thing. I’m not a good sick person (because I get depressed), and I’m not a good depressed person (because I don’t care about anything, else I care too much about everything).

I ended that second spring break with a hike to Chiquito Falls with a friend from way back. We met at Hell’s Kitchen, a biker joint along Ortega Highway, then drove into Blue Jay for a hike along Old San Juan, then San Juan. Being the tour guide, I decided to take The Viejo Tie, not remembering that I was added a significant amount to this  “small” hike. The air was wet, and even raining at times. And I didn’t take many pictures (though beautiful it was), because we spent most of the time chatting like not a day had passed since we had last talked in person (which was about ten years ago). So, the land was lush beyond belief. By the time we reached the falls, we were both drenched. The falls amazed us both with the amount of water flowing over those rocks. There’s no snow melt in these mountains. There’s been no heavy rains recently. Must just be coming from the saturated soil. Astounding. (8.37 miles total)

Standing at the top of Chiquito Falls:

I ended the second spring week, with an attempted run down to the harbor. By attempted, I mean, I thought that I’d go for a local run. But as soon as I got out the door, I felt so open and vulnerable, because running is more a personal thing with me, and I’m not used to being out in front of everyone, that I decided to just get out there and wander. Yes, I know, that people aren’t necessarily looking at me when I run through the city. But still, I felt so open and susceptible -- I just didn’t have the heart to run. So, I plugged in my earbuds and headed off to Doheny Beach. From there I walked out to the jetty and snapped some photos of the regular activity out there, fishermen (& women I’m sure), surfers, and walkers. Afterwards, I headed off to the marina, which even before tourist season officially opens, there was plenty of people milling about. There were dozens of folks disembarking off of a commuter boat from Catalina Island. And there were dozens more dining in the waterfront restaurants throughout.

View of surfers from the jetty:A Great Blue Heron atop the bait shop on the jetty:

I walked at a quick pace, and really didn’t mind walking one bit. I recalled fondly, that this was the same route I used to walk my babies in strollers many years ago. There were single strollers, double strollers, sometimes scooters, sometimes bikes. Now, sadly, my oldest pretty much acts like he can’t stand me. And my middle son, though he still likes me, doesn’t recall as fondly as I do all those walks down by the harbor. Fortunately, my little guy (who is only 12 years old), still has that child within, and will even go down there with me (but not on this particular day), and recalls many happy memories down at the marina. I got in a little over 3.5 miles.

During my final spring break (which is this week), I got Monday and Wednesday evenings off, as well as, all day Friday. I can’t even recall what I did with that spare time -- still in a funk. I am coming to realize that I do best with a tightly structured life. None of this willy-nilly, this week has different days off than the next. I recall working this week, as I really do enjoy teaching and all of my students. But I pretty much don’t recall anything after that, except for Wednesday afternoon (that would be the day before yesterday). I had just completely had it with my laziness. So, after laying about on the couch for a couple of hours, I headed out the door and drove off to the closest trails, which are referred to as the Las Ramblas trails. This is the trail system that overlooks San Clemente, Dana Point and San Juan Capistrano. I didn’t get out until 4pm. It was warm, and it was windy. But it was oh so beautiful, the hills overpowered with yellow daisies and yellow mustard plants. I got in four miles that day. And thank God for all those lovely flowers, otherwise my time would have miserable. I feel like I can barely run lately.

There is the story of my three spring breaks. Next week, I’m back to a busy, structured scheduled. I’m looking forward to it.

The Flowers off of Las Ramblas:

Spring Equinox 2017

After a short hiatus, one that seemed too long, I hit the trails on Monday (3/20) in late morning. How, you might wonder, was I able to run trails during the morning on a week day? Well, I teach at three schools, and it is spring break this week for one of those schools. (Yes, I have 3 different spring breaks.) That meant, this week, the first week of spring, I am wide open, schedule-wise, until 6 pm, Monday through Thursday.

Wow, whatever am I going to do with myself?

Well, first off, I woke with a sore throat, and I know from experience, that of all things, I cannot run with a sore throat – it ALWAYS makes my sickness worse. But I did it anyway. To hell with it. I was ready, I was willing, and I was semi-able.

I chose a 10.7 mile loop through Laguna Wilderness (a county park) and Crystal Cove (a state park). And for some odd reason, though I recalled vividly the hell I encountered last time I “ran” this loop on the climb out, I somehow either didn’t think it would be as bad, or I flat out ignored reality. Not sure which. I was just so happy to get out there for a few hours, just me and the trails.

To begin, it was beautiful. Lots and lots of green, and lots and lots of spring flowers.

The first six miles were a joy. The weather was cool, almost cold. The terrain was extremely unstressful, not very technical at all, and mostly gradually downhill. I took Bommer Ridge to El Moro Ridge, which I ran to the coast. From there it was a significant downhill (on BFI – “Big Friggin’ Incline”),  and then a side trail to the Pacific Ocean. Cannot make this trip without a quick detour to the ocean.

The side trail off of BFI:

I felt peaceful after that detour. The sound of the waves rumbling in does wonders for my soul. But, that peace came with a price. I cannot tell you how wretched that climb out up No-Dogs and No-Name was back to my truck. Well, maybe I’ll try. First off all, the marine layer burned off, and the sun came through strong. And the trip was overall uphill – lots and lots of uphill. Yes, it was beautiful, and I took any excuse I had to stop and click a photo. But I felt light headed, and at times like I wanted to vomit. I just am not in shape for this. Stupidly, I think that I can do anything, but I can’t. I’m not in shape to do this kind of stuff. But I guess it wasn’t such stupid thinking, because I did get through it eventually. It was just miserable, utterly. I basically behaved like a zombie (except for the eating human flesh part), I mindlessly, joylessly, placed one foot in front of the other, over and over and over again.

I counted steps. I stooped over, with my hands on my knees to try and gain more strength. I played with my garmin. I even browsed the internet during some of those hills – anything to get my mind off the hell I was enduring. Eventually, with about 1.5 miles left (I think!), I remembered the tank top I had stashed in my pack. Thank God for a reason to sit and rest!

So, anyway, after that change of clothing, and rest in the dirt, it was all a little more bearable. Perhaps what made it even more bearable was that I could see the trees where my truck was parked.

Yikes. I really don’t think that I will do that loop again.

I was sick in bed that night after work. And sick the next day, napping as much as I could for a speedy recovery. Because hell . . . I can’t wait to hit the trails again.

Dear Winter,

As far as I know, winter officially ends March 20. That’s 8 whole days after my last trail run (which by the way was Sunday, March 12, in the scorching heat). With all due respect, winter, I think you clocked out early here in Southern California.  Now I could be wrong, but I believe that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this year. And you know just as well as I do, that means SIX MORE WEEKS OF WINTER. Consequently, you should be here with us almost until the end of April.

I sincerely hope that this oversight is rectified immediately.

Yours truly,

LaurenontheRun

10.34 Miles, Aliso Creek/Wood Cyn/Mathis/Coyote Run/RockIt/West Ridge/Mathis/Wood Canyon/Aliso Creek Loop

Aliso Creek Trail:Coyote Run Trail:A coyote on Coyote Run Trail:

Rockit Trail:

Mathis Trail:Mountain bike accident in Wood Canyon (probably winter’s fault for clocking out early!!):

Back on Aliso Creek Trail as the glorious fog begins to roll in:

Goal Met

Amazingly, I met my increase 10% goal for February (except for elliptical cross training – but I don’t really care about that). I increased my running mileage just a tad over 10%, and I am pleased about that.

For March though, I am lagging, and if I don’t get my butt into gear, I’m not going to make that 10% increase goal. My first run of the month was this past Tuesday, March 7. It took everything I had in me to change out of my clothes in between jobs, and hit the trails off of I 405 in Irvine. Yes, that’s Shady Canyon, where I took to Quail Hill loop, 4 revolutions. Quail Hill is still lush green with spring flowers popping up everywhere. I don’t reall the last time I saw this rather boring trail so dang beautiful.

That first loop was pure hell (meaning I felt sluggish and overly heavy) and I wondered how the heck I was going to put in any more loops. But by the second, I felt much better, and even better on the 3rd, and even more by the 4th. By then it was time to go, as I had to get off to my next job up Interstate 5. But first, I hit my gym for a shower, and outside the gym, a half a sub sandwich at Subway. I really need to get going if I think I’m going to pull off the 10% increase for March. So far, it’s not looking that great. But thankfully, the trails still are.

Re-Introducing The Motorway

Saturday morning about 9 am, I headed off to Silverado Canyon in my trusty pick-up truck. Precisely one hour later, I pulled into the Maple Springs Visitor Center’s parking lot. There was one spot left to park in a lot that has only five or so spaces. (The rest of the people park throughout the canyon).

I decided to go up The Motorway (aka, The Silverado Motorway, Silverado Trail or Bedford Trail) to Bedford Peak for an out-and-back. I thought this was a perfect way to break in my brand new Adventure Parking Pass. Plus, I haven’t been up this trail in its entirety since the fires that closed it down in 2014. For those of you who don’t know the trail, it’s the first one off to the left up Maple Springs Road (less than a quarter mile in), and it goes for 3 miles at a tremendous climb. A tremendous climb! About 2,000 feet of gain in those 3 miles.

Here, I’m about a half mile in, looking back at the canyon from where I started:

The hills were covered in green on Saturday, and also spring flowers, and lots of tiny landslides. Aside from the beauty though, it was a pretty miserable trek. I breathed the words, “Oh lord,” many times, and ran very little on the way up this switchback single track. On the way, I saw lots of other hikers, no runners, and a couple of dozen mountain bikers. I saw deer tracks here and there. I searched for, but noticed no other significant tracks. There was plenty of coyote scat however, and lots of dark lizards scurrying about.

Some of the flowers:

Some more of The Motorway:

Finally reaching The Main Divide came as a great relief. That relief was so great in fact, it made the whole difficult trip worth it. “This is why,” I thought . . . “This is why.”

I turned right on The Main Divide, ran for about a half mile until I came to the trail to Bedford Peak. It’s not marked, but is obvious. Anyway, I found Gary’s bench at the end of the trail (which is now marked “Gary’s Bench,” otherwise, I would not have known it was Gary’s). The old bench that I had sat on before was on the ground, partially burnt, possibly from the 2014 fire. And in the time since I had been there, Gary had died. His family left a new bench in his remembrance and a journal for visitors to write in (which I did).

I sat a while on Gary’s bench, taking in the mountains both close and afar as I listened to the surrounding silence. Then after about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I ran all the way to the truck. It was a treacherous trot, as I stumbled more than once. And when the cliff was steep and the trail rocky, I hiked, so that if I did fall I wouldn’t plummet to my death.

It was a very difficult 7.87 miles (totaling 2,323’ of gain). All of it, very much well worth it.