Freedom

I felt a great sense of freedom after questioning whether or not I should continue with my trail (aka adventure) running.  My Plantar Fasciitis has grown so bad that it is practically crippling when I’m not running.  I have so little time to get out to the trails that I adore, and I have lost much endurance.  After I considering throwing in the towel, I remembered something very important.  Merely contemplating quitting reminded me that I am free.  I run because I choose to run.  And I can choose not to whenever I want.  That single notion helped me a great deal mentally over the past week. 

Last Tuesday (3/31) I had little time, so I ran out the front door for some beach front running.  I got in 5.43 miles.  (8.74 km).  Two days later, I ran practically the same route (with less than 200’ elevation gain) for 5.23 miles (8.42 km) before heading off to work.  It wasn’t fun, and I wasn’t pretty.   But I was very glad afterward for the time on my feet.

Finally, on Good Friday (4/3) I had all the time in the world to get in some long trail miles.  Instead, I chose to hike with Chalynn, a wonderful woman is who a canyon activist and also the race director to one of my favorite races (The Great Silverado Footrace).  Chay lead a group of us (about 8 total) along 7.05 miles (11.35 km), climbing 1,755’ (535 m) to a gigantic cross in Baker Canyon (very near to Silverado Canyon). We met many hikers out there, most stopping at a number of stations along the way to commemorate The Passion Play. 

Following Chay’s Lead:. 

On Saturday, I did some cross training at the gym and then returned home to run a quick 1.16 miles around Doheny State Beach.  My middle son wants to increase his mile pace and asked me to help.  Thing is, he runs quicker than I do, and I struggled to keep up.  I will be good to increase his endurance.  If we are lucky, he will help me speed up as he increases his own speed.

Monday (4/6), I was finally back on the trails.  The weather was warm with a lovely cool ocean breeze.  It was absolutely perfect for the 11.90 mile (19.15 km) run with 1,221’ (372 m) of elevation gain.  Sure, I could barely walk after resting back at home due to foot pain and stiffness.  But during, all was well as I made my way through Aliso and Wood Canyons, and up to the ridge for a glorious view of the Pacific Ocean. 

Not only am I grateful for the peace and beauty this last run provided me, but I am also grateful that it beat the crap out of me so badly.  It was this run that prompted me to take my husband’s advice on a new stretch to alleviate the PF pain.  The new stretch is similar to my old stretch (dropping my heal down off a stair step), but it is more extreme due to the fact that my toes are raised over a rolled up towel.  It has helped immensely with immediate relief.  Time will tell if it will help “cure” the PF.  I am not overly optimistic.  But in the scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter.  What matters most is that I am free.

It is good to realize my freedom.  Freedom alleviates a lot of the stress.

Snakes!

A few of my friends and acquaintances think that I’m crazy to run where snakes, specifically rattlesnakes, cross my path. I have actually seen people on the trail run away screaming, even at the mere mention of a rattler. Being that I got in a two-snake run on Monday, I’d like to clarify some things regarding these snakes that I have grown so accustomed to on the trail. To begin, it appears that I do not fear rattlesnakes.  Truth is, I do not fear a rattler that I can see.  If I’m out there snapping pictures of my slithering friend, everything is a-okay. It is the rattlesnake that I do not see that I fear. If I can see him, I can tell if he’s ready to strike. If I can see him, I can determine his striking distance. I have no qualms about walking around a snake on the trail. If I can see him, I can estimate the length of his body. And since no rattler that I have ever heard of can strike the distance of his body length, I give him that. Say the snake is about three feet long. I can very safely travel around him within six feet. (I should note that my research says that rattlers can only strike up to 2/3rds its body length. So on a good day a three foot rattlesnake can only strike two feet away, and I give him six!). You can see then, there is no need to fear if I’ve got him in sight. 

So when I’m running along, and I am suddenly up on a snake (because I was not paying attention) I waste no time looking for its rattlers or other tell-tale signs (like the shape of his head). I back off immediately. Immediately. I’ve seen how fast a rattler can coil – it takes a split second. And once he’s coiled, he is good to strike. This is my rule: Look for the rattles later – back off now.

It’s those guys I cannot see who are the real problem. This is why I am always on the lookout for rattlers, and why I am so happy when I see one. But even if I can’t see him, I may hear him. Fortunately, rattlesnakes are spooked quite easily, and their warning system is loud.   There is no mistaking a rattlesnake’s rattle. You may have wondered if that sound you heard was from a rattlesnake or a cicada (a grasshopper-like insect out our way). But once you’ve heard a rattlesnake, there’s no mistaking it. It is loud, vigorous and determined. As I’m running along that trail (fa-la-la-la-la-la), and a rattling overtakes the serenity, I run away from the sound. Away. This is my second rule: Do not try to determine where the rattlesnake is – put distance between you and that sound. Then you can go about tossing pebbles if you want to know where he’s at.

Basically, I’m on the lookout, and I give the snake its space. Simple as that. Enough of my snake rules (for now). Let me show you the lovelies that I ran up in Wood Canyon on Monday. The first one was a friendly guy, good for a close up:

The second guy was not so good for a close up:

Happy spring!

Miles run: 10

Breaking Thirty

A couple weeks back, my mind actually entertained the idea of stepping away from trail running, or all running for that matter.  It’s true.  And I can’t believe it myself.  Can’t believe that I let the thought even enter my mind.  But it was a relief really to contemplate the notion.  I have been suffering physically and mentally for quite some time now concerning this hobby that has defined me.  I felt anxious and confused about what to do about it.  When the thought crossed my mind, I was in the middle of coordinating Old Goat 50, and I was busy with work.  And then spring break hit for one of the schools I teach at.  I told myself, just run until you have time to think about this new notion of actually stepping away.  And so I ran this week, and without realizing it, broke a 30 mile week.  The last time I broke 30 miles was the 3rd week of January this year.  (The first 3 months of 2014 I broke 30 miles seven times.)

Maybe, just maybe (& perhaps this is just wishful thinking), I can run myself right through this mini-crises and come out on the other side in shape. 

Monday’s run:  7.4 miles (11.91 km), 1,006’ (307 m) elevation gain, Laguna Wilderness and Crystal Cove State Park.  Bommer Ridge to Old Emerald Trail into Emerald Canyon, up Old Emerald Falls (which was a nice hot climb in the sun), Moro Ridge back to Bommer, back to my truck. 

I felt good in spite of the heat and the elevation climbs that I have grown unaccustomed to.  The views were spectacular.  The skies were blue with giant wispy clouds.  Coming up out of Old Emerald Falls a helicopter circled an area above Moro Ridge.  Upon reaching the ridge, I witnessed a rescue worker lowered to the ground, where a mountain biker lay, victim of a fall.  (I passed the mountain biker later on Bommer Ridge; he was conscious, hooked into a stretcher with a neck brace, and i.v.)

View from Bommer Ridge:

Helicopter lowering rescue worker to the ground:

Wednesday’s Run:  11.78 miles (18.96 km), 787’ (240 m) elevation gain, Tijeras Creek Trail to Arroyo Trabuco and back. 

With more time to spare than usual on Wednesday, I headed out for a shady trail with a little less elevation gain that the run prior.  Thank goodness for the shade.  It was a hot one for sure.  These trails are several miles inland, alongside two creeks, so it can get quite muggy without an ocean breeze.  I relished the shade when I got it.  Even the rattler I came up on was digging the shade.  My first rattler sighting of 2015.

Sunday’s Run (today): 15.21 miles (24.48 km) , 2,641’ (805 m) elevation gain, San Juan Trail (from the Lazy W trail head) up several miles and back.

Today was my big run, and I had three other lovely ladies to accompany me.  We took off early this morning to head up a giant climb called San Juan Trail.  We could see for miles and miles, with the Pacific Ocean at first covered with a blanket of clouds.  It was a dang difficult run or me, and the downhill wasn’t much relief.  It was slippery, steep, and narrow, and much of the trail was riddled with ruts.  I needed something like this.  And I needed the company. 

Old Goat 50 Behind The Scenes

Nearly a week has passed since Old Goat 50.  There were defeats and there were triumphs for an amazing group of runners.  There were firsts, and I’m sure there were lasts.  Thankfully for me, Chimera had already broken me in.  Old Goat 50 was a cinch compared to that monster.  Only a day long, I was not delirious in need of sleep during Old Goat.  The skies were blue and sunny, but the weather was not too hot.  There were very few glitches in fact during Old Goat 50.  With the experience of Chimera in my back pocket, I knew what to expect, and in most cases saw potential problems before they occurred.  I even brought my scooter so that I could quickly get up Long Canyon Road and back (in case I needed to make a phone call, check on things, etc).  I might add though, it’s pretty much useless riding a scooter uphill.  I don’t know how many people told me I needed to put a motor on that thing.  (No motor for me!).  But the down hills through the campground were a blast, and I was back again, quickly at the start line in a flash.  (So I got in some exercise too).

Of course, coordinating Old Goat wouldn’t have been a cinch if I didn’t have such a wonderful pool of people chipping in.  I am continually amazed how much of themselves people will give.  In addition to the race directors Steve and Annie Harvey, we had about 22 HAM radio operators, two parking attendants, one medic, four drivers, four sweeps, and 34 workers to staff nine aid stations.

A little glimpse behind the scenes ~

Check-in:Steve at the bullhorn with race instructions:Working the finish line:Aid station crew waiting to take the trip up the mountain:Blue Jay aid station (located at the start/finish line):Sweeps:Timing:What it’s all about – runners crossing the finish line:

More Valuable Than Money

A popular saying I’ve heard throughout my life is:  “Time is Money.”  Well, I am here to say that time is not money.  Time is way more valuable than money. 

During the past week, I have been too busy to hit any trails.  But I have managed to get in two runs locally.  I guess that’s not so bad. 

Run 1:  Sunday, 5.29 miles

Run 2: Friday (today): 9.45 miles

If I had more time I might spill more beans about these runs – as I am going through a rough time wondering if I’m really up for all this running anymore.  But of to bed I am for a 3:30 AM wake-up and drive up the mountain.  Tomorrow is Old Goat 50, of which I am I’m coordinating volunteer activities.  

This Week

Woe is me who can hardly find time to get in runs nowadays.  This week I managed to get in three runs, and I am grateful for that.  Still, I need more miles.  I want more trails

Run #1, Trabuco Creek Trail (in San Juan Capistrano) to Arroyo Trabuco (in Mission Viejo) 6.0 mile (9.66 km) out-and-back:

I call these trails “urban” trails, as I could hear traffic whizzing by along Camino Capistrano and graffiti dressed the walls as I ran beneath eight lanes of traffic travelling along Interstate 5. 

I crossed Trabuco Creek beneath the train tracks where I saw these high school students walking down to the creek.  I half expected them to pull out a joint, or at the least a pack of cigarettes.  Instead, they took fishing poles out from their packs. 

Run #2, Aliso Creek Trail to Wood Canyon, up Cave Rock Trail, back to Wood Canyon, Dripping Cave Trail, Mathis, Oak Grove, and then up the big incline called Car Wreck Trail, back to Mathis Trail, West Ridge to Top of the World, Meadows, back to Aliso Creek Trail, 9.33 mile (15.02 km) loop:

I got out late as usual, as I have little time for household chores and must tend to them first when I have spare moments.  As such, the weather was warm, and I overdressed because (hark!) it still is winter. 

I stopped by my favorite places in Aliso / Wood Canyons, such as Cave Rock, Dripping Cave and even Car Wreck Trail.  Of course, my loop included Top of the World for a quick view of the lovely Pacific. 

Everything was green and beautiful. 

Run #3, ran inland from my house so that I could catch the bike trail down to Monarch Beach, to Salt Creek Beach, Dana Strands (AKA The Strands), up to The Headlands, and Highway One back home, 8.45 mile (13.6 km) loop:

Got out late (3PM) for once again some winter heat.    Fortunately, I got some of that coastal breeze that keep so many coming back.  I had really hoped to get in at least fifteen miles for my last run of this week.  That was not possible – there were clothes to wash, bags to pack, floors and dishes to wash and toilets to scrub today.  I let the dream of fifteen miles flitter away and enjoyed half the miles anyway.

And they were difficult.  I think the main reason for my struggle was the winter warmth, and the fact that I set off toward the end of the day.  Regardless, I am better for it. 

Here’s the funny thing about run #3:  according to my garmin, the elevation gain was 1,238’.  I find this absolutely amazing, especially since I only reached a maximum elevation of 350’.  There were lots of ups and downs, I suppose.  And they add up.  (I have not scrutinized the graph below to figure out whether Garmin got the total gain correct).