Converted!

When you become a long distance runner (something I never in a million years would have thought I’d become, and I still have a hard time admitting to) you lose perspective on distance. 

Before continuing, I want to note that I consider myself more a trail runner than I do a long distance runner.  Many athletes run much longer distances than I.  Just so happens that I love trails so much, that I run and run and run.

Anyway, back to losing perspective.  I’ve forgotten how difficult it was to get my long run up to 4 miles.  And though I remember the joy of running ten miles for the first time, I’ve come to think of ten miles as a short run.  Four miles is really short.  That’s what I mean about losing perspective.  I know dang well that ONE mile is a long way.  It’s just hard for me to see now.  My family knows that I have no perspective on distance, and of course teases me about it.  My son says things like, “Mom thinks 20 miles is a short run,” which I don’t, or, “What’d you run, 100 miles today?”  (Of course, I have not done a 100 mile run).

Well, this morning, I think I finally converted my husband into losing distance perspective.  I told him that I was going to run to The Top of the World and back via Cholla Trail and West Ridge, a six mile run.  When I returned, he looked at me surprised to see me in the house so “quickly” and said, “Boy, six miles is short!”  Yes, he actually said that six miles was short.  LOL. 

Yes it was a “shortish” run, but by no means SHORT.  And I ran it in my usual stomping grounds, Aliso/Wood Canyons – it was a lovely, relaxing run.

Welcome to Wood Canyon:

Spring Bouquet:

My favorite running shoes:

Another Spring Bouquet:

A Look Down on Laguna Canyon from West Ridge:

Spring flowers Contrast Burnt Shrubbery at Top of the World:

Top of the World:

6.39 miles (10.28 miles) run this morning:

Oh, No! Not Again.

Over the past 2 weeks, I’ve gone up West Horsethief FIVE times.  Four of those ascents have been over the past 4 days.  This morning, I went up the fifth time with a small group of friends.  Thank goodness for them because the climb was harder than ever for me.  As soon as we began that switchback up, my body and soul shrugged, “Oh, No!  Not again!”  Without Judi, Matt and Kurt this morning, I think that I may have turned around and taken another route.

I suppose I’m a little rambunctious to expect improvement going up this much hated loved trail so early.  My calves still felt like stone this morning.  And honestly, I haven’t been foam rolling as much as I should with climbs like this (I’ve been working more job hours – glory, glory : )

Anyway I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember – expecting immediate results from my efforts.  Thankfully, trail and long distance running has taught me a bit of patience.  At the same time, fortunately, one of my qualities is that I don’t know when to quit.  Hopefully, that won’t be the death of me.  For those of you who have been reading this blog for a LONG time, you might remember, I finally made the decision to drop Bulldog 50k to prove that I knew when to quit.  I did it once (quit that is), and I haven’t quit since.  My husband is right.  I really don’t know when to quit.

Thing is, I am extremely nervous over next month’s 50k.  That race climbs Horsethief at mile 23.  And I’m pretty much scared out of my mind.  I haven’t decided yet on a “game plan,” except for the fact that I plan on training smart and hard for all of March.

Despite the extremes of our loop this morning the run was delightful, as well as the company.  The weather was perfect, though a little warm, breezes added an extra comfort, as well as, the shade here and there. 

Climbing up West Horsethief (notice ocean in background):

“Ultra runner” Judi, training for her first 50 miler:

I bet that I never mentioned that I’m a gum chewer.  Well, I am.  I think that’s true of many ex-smokers LOL:

Top of West Horsethief Trail.  It’s an honor to run with this group and all trail runners I’ve run with (from left to right, me, Kurt, Judi, Matt):

After West Horsethief, we ran The Main Divide for approximately 6 miles.  The Main Divide, is the truck trail that runs along the top of this portion of The Cleveland National Forest.  There’s lots of ups and downs, with views of the west and the east.  On a clear day like today, we could see Lake Elsinore, Lake Matthews and Riverside county on one side.  On the other, we could view Orange County, The Pacific Ocean and even Catalina Island.

Main Divide View of the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island:

Frolicking along The Main Divide:

Making our way down Holy Jim Trail:

After tucking my camera away, I had to pull it out one more time for a view from Holy Jim Trail:

The run down Holy Jim Trail is five miles.  And though it’s downhill, after what we’d already run, I found it quite challenging.  Two runners rolled their ankles.  I tripped at least 3 times, but saved myself from falling.  With all the snow melted, you can be sure, I stopped at the spring and drenched my cap.  After 8 stream crossings before the trailhead (and 3 or 4 afterward) we made it back to the trail alive and well and lively.  Driving that bumpy off-road trip back, we all had a chuckle because after describing how difficult that run was, we couldn’t wait to get out there again.

14.15 miles logged (22.77 km):

ps.  I really can’t say how fortunate I am in this difficult time in my life to have such a grand refuge. 

Hill Repeats on West Horsethief? LOL.

For a long time during my short trail running “career” Bulldog Road was my nemesis.  Bulldog Road is dirt road in Malibu Creek State Park that runs a little over 3 miles.  Then I ran Holy Jim, a local trail in the Cleveland National Forest (5 miles).  And Holy Jim became my nemesis.  Once I conquered Holy Jim, I couldn’t wait to get back to Bulldog.  But I didn’t get back.  Instead, I met West Horsethief.  I thought I had kind of conquered it – conquered it, as in I could run the whole thing in training.  And conquered it, as in, hopefully, it wouldn’t “kill” me in a race.  Problem is, West Horsethief CONQUERED ME in my last trail race.  I think that I was feeling a little “cocky,” so the beating took me by surprise.  AND all of Horsethief is only a little less than 2 miles long.  The major climb portion is even less!

That beating that Horsethief gave me really pissed me off.  I try to be a calm, patient person.  But I’m really not.  I took West Horsethief’s beating personal.  And silly me – before this “beating”, I went and registered for a 50k that goes up this trail at mile 23!  I needed to do something, and something fast.

My grand idea today was to run up and down West Horsethief three times.  I must be the “Queen of Denial” because it was WAY harder than I thought it would be.  Going up that third time was a death march (I don’t mean to lighten or disrespect those in the Bataan Death March WWII or other death marches throughout history).  Actually, climb 2 was pretty bad.  Climb 3 was terrible, but I had the mental battle over during climb 3, knowing that I was running my final “lap.”

Almost the entire adventure, a helicopter with red blinking lights flew in and out of Trabuco Canyon.  At times it flew lower than I ran.  At times, it seem to be attempting to land on a high meadow across the valley.  It would leave, then return and hover and circle the same area for quite some time.  This made me nervous as I mentioned in the video of this adventure below, for a few reasons.  First off, I wondered whether someone was injured, and if so, I worried (selfishly) that the injury could be due to a cougar attack.  Secondly, I worried that someone was missing, or worst yet, dead.  Other things that crossed my mind were 1) the dumping of a corpse or 2) a psycho was running loose in the wilderness.  

The Movie 😅 

Holy Snowy Jim

Rain and hail poured down upon our fragile roof last night (I describe it that way because of the skylights).  I could see the pea-sized white beads of ice settling on the ceiling windows..  We had  thunder so loud, our boys just couldn’t believe it.  They had never heard a thunder boom so enormously.

I went to bed bummed because a storm like this surely meant that my local trails in the coastal hills would be closed.  As I drove my boys to school beneath dry skies, I saw a snow covered Saddleback Mountain.  Suddenly I HOPED my local trails were closed.  I checked the website and called the parks up until 9AM, thinking “be closed, be closed, be closed!”

Needless to say, they were closed.

Sure, I didn’t have a lot of time, but I had enough time to do some running up Holy Jim Trail in Trabuco Canyon.  So, gleefully, I headed off toward the freeway to find myself in a traffic jam getting to the onramp.  I couldn’t wait, so I took a left onto a side road.  Apparently, THOUSANDS of people came up with the same idea.  Traffic did not move.  From there, I could see the freeway marquee indicating a major accident at Ortega.  So, I got out of line, and waited to make a u-turn.  Apparently, HUNDREDS of people came up with that idea too.  Well, I wasn’t going to do the next obvious thing; instead I drove north some before finally getting on the freeway.  Anxious, I told myself, “Okay, you won’t have time to run all of Holy Jim.  And if you don’t hit snow, well, heck enjoy the muddy/rocky off-road drive to the trailhead.”

Downright giddy that I’m finally off to try and run to the snow!  And downright silly for taking this picture!

I had no idea whether I’d hit snow running up Holy Jim.  It was dang cold for sure, and I could see lots of snow up in the distance.  I passed two hikers making their way up.  After 8 stream crossings, still no snow.  Three mountain bikers passed me on the way up at about mile 1.  And though I was still running on dirt, I felt exhilarated.  Then at about mile 1.4, I spotted two small clumps of snow.  By then I had already peeled off my warm layers (It’s not easy running up Holy Jim).  Then at mile 1.5, I saw long strips of snow along the trail’s edge. 

A stream crossing on Holy Jim:

A quick pose before peeling off the winter duds.

Off in the distance – the prize!!

Other crazy people:

I didn’t note on the garmin when I finally found myself surrounded by snow.  It sounded like rain as the snow melted and dripped from the trees. A tiny creek ran swiftly down the center of the switchback trail.  And then the snow stopped melting, and as I ran past the trees, clumps of snow fell to the ground directly behind me.  It was an honor to be Holy Jim’s guest this morning.  I didn’t want to turn back.  I pushed the time limits as far as I could.  I didn’t want to leave this glorious winter-wonderland, but I had to get ready for work.  As I turned around I tucked away the camera and told myself, “No more pictures – enjoy!”  Though I did take the camera out just a couple more times.  Call me camera crazy today.

Running up Holy Jim:

On my trip down I saw this guy running up Holy Jim.  He didn’t seem to notice me, because when I spoke it seemed I startled him.  I said, “Who is this lunatic running up a mountain in the snow?”  I laughed, but he was so concentrated on the run, he didn’t act like he got my joke.  But I did get his name. 

Brett:

One last picture as I ran back down Holy Jim:

I worked long hours this afternoon into the night.  I’m still grading papers at home.  And it seems like ages ago that I went on this run.  It was so delightful, so surreal, it’s almost like it didn’t happen.  I feel extremely  fortunate.

Miles run 7.01 (11.28 km):

Race or No Race, It’s Time to Run

Today’s race, The 15th Annual Great Silverado Footrace, was cancelled abruptly last night (due to landowner issues).  The news was big bummer for me.  I love this race.  This would have been my 4th year running it.  AND this was going to be the last year of this race, AND my running friend Jeremy was going to run it as well, AND the race director put a lot of time and effort into this super event. 

Instead, I headed to Silverado Canyon for a get-back-into-the-groove run with Jeremy this morning.  It felt like ages since I’ve run (actually since last Monday – but being sick made it seem soooo much longer).

The morning was beautiful with blue skies and mountain views from afar.  It was a bit chilly, but not cold as we started off up Maple Springs Road.  It’s an uphill start on pavement for about 3 miles (actually it’s all uphill until you turn around and run back).  But those paved 3 miles seem tougher for some reason.  Is it just me, or is it extremely difficult to warm-up on an incline?  The gate at the trailhead was also open this morning (which I haven’t seen in ages), boy was I tempted to just drive through the paved portion, but fear of being locked in stopped that thought. 

Climbing Maple Springs Road (well, actually stopped for a quick shot):

Still climbing:

With the gate at the trailhead open, a good deal of trucks and motorcycles, some dirt bikes rumbled past us.  Two bikers stopped to adjust their water packs, and I overhead the guy say to the lady, “Next time we should jog up like them."  She busted out a laugh (I love eavesdropping).

At Four Corners we saw what all the ruckus at least partially concerned.  A mountain bike race up Harding Truck Trail finished up at Harding and Maple Springs.  Good thing we didn’t pick Harding Truck Trail to run this morning (I actually considered it briefly last night).  Though I’m sure that would have been exciting, and I love excitement.  I also enjoyed the feel of the race up there at Four Corners, the commotion, the anticipation (and the first finisher hadn’t even come through yet). 

A “Group Photo” before the 7.5 mile run back down:

I don’t know what this is about.  I guess I’m just plain ole’ running out of poses.  LOL.  Or perhaps I’m just having so much fun running in the mountains again, I’m a bit giddy:

View going down Maple Springs:

Headed for the final LONG stretch:

Love this tree.  Had already taken a couple photos of it when I lucked out and caught one of Jeremy running by this wizardly old tree:

Almost, almost there:

Almost there:

During that final stretch, at least a dozen motorcycles passed by.  I couldn’t help think of the scene from The Rocky Horror Picture Show where Brad and Janet are stuck at the side of that lonely road, when one by one, sometimes in twos, motorcycles rode by them on the way to the castle. (Honk if you know that movie scene.)

15.20 miles run this morning (24.46 km)  When I arrived home, I changed and crashed on the couch.  My wellness backslid a bit.  I’ll take it though.  I’ll take it!

Flashback Friday

I have been sick and haven’t been able to run these past 4 days.  Actually, I’ve been sick for about a week, but I ran a couple times anyway.  Normally I would have forced a run in these past four days.  Because I NEED to run.  But I have a race this weekend that I really, really want to run.

There you have my reasons for my lack of blog entires.  No run; no blog.

I’ve been going to bed early, around 8/8:30, waking at 6 AM, to get breakfasts and lunches made for the boys.  And then while hubby, so thankfully, gets them off to school, I go back to bed until it’s time to get ready for work.  By then, I feel better.  By the time I arrive home however, I crawl back into bed early once again.

Today however is Friday, and I had to get some errands run.   Feeling much better, I woke for good at 11:30 AM and ventured out for a few hours.  Perhaps if I hadn’t kept up my strength training (THOUGH MINIMAL) during this illness, I would have recovered quicker.  And perhaps if I would have not run last week’s 21k, I would have been over this by the weekend.  But I couldn’t miss that race, and I couldn’t miss taking down the markers the following Monday.  The race gave me a $50 gift certificate, and the marker take down gave me a mountain run during the week!  Come Tuesday however, I crashed big time.

Back to the reason for the blog – Flashback Friday.  I began looking for a particular softball picture back from 1980 or so.  I’ve been searching this picture out for a couple years.  I know that it’s in my office, that AGAIN looks like a hurricane ran through it (as I now share my office with my husband and my dog.  LOL)  I didn’t find the picture, but I did notice something amusing among my old pictures.  There are an awful lot of poses of me standing on the front lawn of the house I grew up in.  It seems for every special occasion, I posed out front on the lawn.

I’ve picked two of those front lawn pictures for this Flashback Friday:

The first picture, I believe is the first day of high school.  That would make the date September 1979.  (High school for me was 9th through 12th grades):

The second picture was taken on my high school Graduation Day.  I graduated mid-term, January 1982, but I walked in the ceremony with the rest of my class, which means this picture was taken in June 1983:

Same front lawn, same person.  But really, a much different person from today.