Nice N' Easy

I've been semi-secretly toying with the idea of running another marathon this October. Shhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone. Like I said, I'm just toying with the idea. In deciding, I set aside one day this weekend for a long solo road run, just to see how it goes : ) And not wanting to push my weekly miles up too quickly, this morning I decided for a nice n' easy run.

I set out LATE, 8:18 AM to be exact. I ran straight down to the coast, hoping for some relief from this heat. What I got was humidity along the still marina waters. But what I also got was giant waves crashing down on the jetty rocks, sending splashes rocketing before spectators at the cliffs. Uneven sets of harsh waves rolled in, one after the other, white water dominating the first fifty yards or so of the ocean. An untamed sea gobbled up the tiny beach there at my turnaround. What an awesome, fierce sight! And I was off again . . .

Careful not to put in very many miles, I plowed up the big hill home. Just once I found my hands on my hips, which I promptly flung away to pick up my pace some back to Highway One. My family used to me being away for hours when I run, my husband laughed when I came through the door. "What'd you run, 100 yards?"

Nope.

Miles logged this morning: 4.32

Number of other runners on the road: 12

On the Road Again

The morning after Bulldog, I crawled out of bed aching from head to toe. This was no ordinary worked-out-too-hard ache. This was a slammed-hard-to-the-ground-on-a-downhill-run ache. It felt as if I had been in a car accident. My arms, my chest, my legs hurt. Everything hurt. Even my fingers ached from digging out tiny pebbles beneath the skin.

Day two I felt much better, though opted for another day of rest. Day three -- time to get back to the trail. I couldn't wait, though I could have easily slept in when the alarm rang at 5:20 AM. After two short days, I felt like I was missing out. I wanna run!! (Or do I? Am I crazy or what?) And so, Tuesday, 6:30 AM, a camelback strapped to my back, a cell phone and camera, plus a couple pieces of gum in my belt, I hit the dirt running, headed for Top of the World with Tom and Luis.

The weather cool, the skies cloudy, almost misty, we took Aliso Creek Trail to Wood Canyon -- chatting along the way, laughing, taking in a lovely breeze, shady groves, and a nice wide, flat trail. Before we knew it, we hit a wall of hot air, and that's just about when the climb began and the sun shined through. I told Tom and Luis to go on ahead, that they'd have time to rest at the top, because I was going to take a while. But I did run every step of that steep trail named Cholla, and it was even slightly, so slightly easier than it has been before (thank you Bulldog!)

From there we took the ridge (Westridge), a rolling hill adventure, with two rather difficult pieces (one of which Luis sprinted!). At Top of the World, the marine layer gone made for a gorgeous view, as well as a photo-op (lest I forget). We took one of my favorites, my first favorite trail actually, Mathis Trail, on the way down -- what a delight to just run a downhill, no racers breathing down my back (though there's a place for that too : ).

In all we ran 11.63 wonderful miles, arriving back at the ranger station ready for the start of a brand new day.

Running Westridge, Looking towards Santa Ana Mountains

Tom, Me and Luis (Laguna Beach in background)

Tom catches Gopher Snake on the way in to ranger station

Bulldog 25K

“That’s the only way to do it – go. When there’s a jungle waiting, you go through it and come out clean on the far side. Because if you struggle to back out, you get all snarled, and afterwards the jungle is still there, still waiting.”

Peter Mattheissen, At Play in the Fields of the Lord.

I woke at the ridiculous hour of 3:45 AM, after dreaming, it seemed all night long, that I was sitting in the bleachers, waiting to compete in a “marathon” swim. Suddenly, I realized that I didn’t know how race dive anymore, or at least wasn’t sure if I could. And so I fretted, waiting my turn, trying to sleep, conjuring up ways that I could make up for a poor dive, etc., etc., until my cell phone alarm went off and I lay in bed wondering, “Okay, what day is it, where am I supposed to go?”

BULLDOG.

That’s where I’m supposed to go!

I headed out at 4 AM, gear bag in hand, coffee thermos in the other. Then at the door the thermos handle broke and my coffee fell to the hardwood floor. My husband was quick to aid, and fortunately I had plenty coffee remaining when I finally hit the road at 4:10 AM. (But as usual, the day started off as an adventure!)

I drove the entire distance under darkness and arrived in Calabasas at the local Albertsons where I picked up fellow club runner, Larry. And then of all things, we got a first row parking space, directly in front of bib pick-up.

In an attempt to condense this blog down from TWENTY-FIVE pages, here’s a few things up front:

1) I changed my mind last minute and went with my standard, oldest pair of trail shoes (New Balance), though I packed the Salomons in case I changed my mind again.
2) The weather was cool and cloudy (Glory be to God!)
3) The freeways were empty and I made it to Calabasas in just under 90 minutes
4) My goal for this tough 25k was three hours, though I knew that would be difficult with such steep climbs, in the back of my mind, I knew that 3 hours would have to be the best trail run I’d ever ran.
5) And finally, I planned to run straight through the creek and not worry about balancing over rocks.

Anyway, I felt strong for a good long while – nice flat entrance on this Bulldog 25k course – perhaps 3 to 4 miles of quick, yet comfortable pace, gorgeous warm-up. It was wide roads, then rocky single track just off the stream. Some time after all that, the climb began and I came upon the first aid station. Water, sports drinks, pretzels, saltine crackers, and candy a plenty awaited us. I took a handful of Skittles, chewed down and sucked on the wad of sugar as I plowed up, up, up towards the peak of the Santa Monica Mountains that overlook Malibu. The climb so steep, it wasn’t long before everyone around me was walking.

Making our way in

Remnants of M.A.S.H. television series set

Climbing . . .

I had some rules for this most difficult portion of the race:

1) No hands on the hips. I put my hands on my hips, it means I’m resting – BIG TIME. Hands on the hips means I lose arm momentum, and going up that steep trail, I need all the momentum I can get!
2) Haul ass on any and all flat portions – that means run fast!
3) Make it to aid station #2 within 1 ½ hours
4) And finally PUSH – not matter what! Even on the steepest of climbs – push, push, push!.

I kept a keen eye on my watch and about an hour twenty minutes in, knew I wasn’t making aid station #2 within my time limit. I kept trying though, and when I got weak, my mantra was “push, push, push . . . “ I kept those arms going and even chatted a bit with other runners on the way up. Then finally, I saw aid station 2 in sight and though I was over my time limit, I raised my arms in victory as I ran down to it. One hour forty minutes it took to arrive to this destination. And even running a bit over time, I called my husband to tell him the news, and I stood in line for the porta-pottys (Gosh, I hate that!!)

Yahoo!!! Aid Station Two

Leaving Aid Station Two

There’s still a climb after that second station, a beautiful, sandstone climb overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Though cloudy somewhat, the Pacific provided a grand view. I spotted a blimp off in the distance. I snapped a few pictures, but at some point I tucked the camera away for good, because I knew I had lots of time to make-up for a 3 hour finish. There were more climbs to make, which I took rather well, power walking some of them, running others.

Awesome Stuff

And then the grand descent began. And what fun it was. I passed some who walked, others who ran it cautiously. Downhill is what I’m practiced at, and this was a nice, wide fire road, for a whole 2 miles. It was beautiful, and I wore a broad smile as I made my way down, relishing music from my ipod.

Just towards the end of this nice wide downhill, I caught a glimpse of the boy’s detention center (where my final ascent would be) and I thought looking at my watch, there’s a very slight chance I could make my time. But . . . after another uphill climb, I fell light-headed and my right leg began cramping. So I downed some Gu. The calories seemed to help my weakness, though the cramping persisted as I ran, reaching back to massage my right calf.

Then off onto the downhill single track I ran. It was thin, and rocky, a few runners ahead and a few runners behind, I took it rather quickly, giddy for the end of this 25k. And then . . . I’m not precisely sure what happened. Perhaps my leg cramped again, or perhaps I simply tripped. All I really know is that on a pretty good descent, I flew and landed hard on the rocky terrain. And when I hit, my body cramped all at once. I scared the lovely lady in front of me, as she turned back to see me sprawled out on my back (I didn’t land on my back, when I hit I rolled.) She ran back to help, as well as, the two or three others behind. They hovered over me, “Are you alright? What can we do?” My hands were bleeding, as was my knee. But I knew nothing was broken. I just had to get out of this body cramp! I wanted to say, “Can you rub my leg to get this cramp gone?” But I didn’t dare ask strangers for such a favor. However, I couldn’t reach my calf myself, because even after sitting up, my body was still full-on, stiff in a cramp. Then one of the gals asked, “Can I help you up?” I gladly responded, “Why, yes you can.” and couldn’t tell them enough how nice they were – they after all took several minutes off their time to help me. Standing up, I was able to reach down and massage my right leg. And one of the ladies gave me an electrolyte pill for the cramping. I was off and running before it even took effect (which it did several minutes later) and at the next aid station I took time to thoroughly wash my hands to make sure I didn’t have any gaping injuries.

At that point I still had too much to traverse to make my time. But I kept on running. I was thinking, “okay, 3 hours ten minutes . . . “ The cramping now gone, I still felt okay, but quite tired. The scenery lush and shady, I ran on through the single track passing runners here and there, despite aching hands and bloody knee. When I came to the stream, I by-passed the line of people waiting to cross over the most opportune rocks. I plowed right through that water, causing an uproar of laughter from those who cautiously crossed to avoid wet feet.

Wet, muddy shoes, I made that last uphill at a fast pace, running when I could, power-walking the rest. A few runners passed me, running amazingly strong. And when I could look down at the boy’s detention center, I felt great relief. Home was just around the corner. A woman behind me exclaimed about then, “Oh my gosh! Did you fall?” I laughed and said that I did, and that nothing was broken, so all was well. “What’s a trail run without a good fall?” I joked. (She laughed and agreed).

I was dead, dead-dog tired. Though flat, the last bit of this Bulldog race was tough for me. Still, I ran it all the way in. I didn’t make my 3 hour limit, but after the initial disappointment, I’m happy about my performance. (Someone called out 3:21 when I crossed the finish line – don’t have official standings yet)

Crossing Finish Line

That’s quite a trail race! Be sure that I’ll be back next year to try for 3 hours once again.

So Happy to be done!

Larry, fully rested after coming in at 2 hrs twenty something minutes!

Kilometers logged today: 25 (just under 16 miles)
Injuries: a bruise, 4 small cuts on the hands, 1 swollen and scabbed knee
Body completely crusted with salt, arms, legs and face filthy but . . . Toes aching: ZERO!

And the tally shows . . .Total number of falls-to-date: 7

Not Much Else I Can Do . . .

Does everyone get this anxious before a hard race? Every race is “hard” I suppose, but there are those special ones that are excruciatingly difficult for me. Obviously, Bulldog is one of them. Even the name sounds too tough for me. BULLDOG – I better watch it, or that thing will bite my ass off.

Well, I've done all that I can do at this point. My left foot toes are in better shape, though not completely pain free. I’ve been resting, or cross training rather, and have been soaking my feet in Epsom salt. I’m wearing a brace on my right knee, overkill for the slight ache I felt this afternoon. Sound crazy? I’m sure it does. I’ve also been wearing the trail shoes that I’m pretty sure I’m wearing for Bulldog, all day, every day this week, so that they feel like they’re part of me, an extension, not just a pair of shoes. (And I’m still packing my old faithful trail shoes, just in case I change my mind at the last minute – which I did the last time, the first time I ran the Bulldog trail back in May ’09 – Xterra 22k).

I’m promising to sleep in as late as I can tomorrow, which will probably mean, that I’ll first wake at 6:30, then go back to sleep and wake at 7:30 and force myself to stay in bed. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, if just for tomorrow I could sleep in until 9 or 10? Chances are slim. Regardless, Friday is set aside for complete rest, except for an hour drive out to my parents and back, and a few, very few chores around the house. (Friday’s bedtime is set for 9 PM at latest)

I’ve already got everything I need for the race in one bag. The ipod is loaded and charged, sunscreen, sunglasses, hat, etc., etc., all there. Tomorrow I will ceremoniously sort through my stuff, pack my belt, fill my camelback, select socks, undergarments, shorts, shirt . . . I’ve been looking over the map, coming up with strategies, time schedules. I even spent time today viewing Bulldog clips on the internet – how fun, I thought to myself, I can’t wait. But then again, it was kind of a “dread” sort of “can’t wait.”

Does that make sense?

There’s not much else I can do at this point,

Except . . .

Dream, dream, dream.

My favorite Trails in Wood Canyon

My last run before Bulldog, I posted an approximate 8 mile run through Wood Canyon -- or so I thought. I was kinda guessing, based on other runs. Turns out I was short a bit, two miles short.

I chose my three favorite trails to run with this morning's group of five. The first one (which we arrived via Wood Canyon Trail) was Dripping Cave. There's some climbing on this trail, but nothing like running to Top of the World. The best part of the trail of course is the actual cave, and that downhill back to Mathis where the vegetation along the single track grows taller than me. And then there's Coyote Run, which I've described in detail many times -- that enchanted trail that starts and ends just above the creek. And then lastly, my newest favorite trail -- Wood Creek. We ran it backwards this time. Ha! We didn't actually run backwards. I mean, we ran it in the opposite direction than I've ran it before. It's a gorgeous, thick groved trail, off the beaten path with no bike traffic. When I run it alone, I blast through half a dozen spider webs along the way. Today, Larry took the lead, so he got that pleasure, I'm sure.

Still not certain which shoes to wear for Bulldog, I wore the Salomons today for another test run. And then I stepped through the stream to see how they handled wet. Because when I come to the stream crossing at Bulldog, I'm probably not going to balance myself over the rocks -- I'm going to run straight through. The shoes did well wet (and I even wore them for a few hours after the run to make good and sure they kept their comfort -- if that makes any sense!)

Anyway, we ended with only six miles. At Wood Canyon's final Kiosk, Tom was raring to go up Cholla and back. But in the end, he couldn't get any takers. Perhaps he missed the heavy duty climbing from his "flat" week last week.

Well, like a broken record (remember those, when the record used to skip and play the same note again and again?), I couldn't let this cool morning run on my favorite trails pass without another group photo. Sorry folks, I'll try to ease up on that a bit. But I really enjoyed the run and the company, and this picture will put it down in posterity.

Miles logged this morning: 6

Tom, Me, Sheila, Luis, Larry

Tapering? on Arroyo Trabuco/Tijeras Creek Loop

I love these gray, cool August mornings. What’s better than that for an early morning group run? Aiming for ten to twelve miles, I really intended on cutting back my miles, if not now, then this coming week. It’s the TAPER before Bulldog. I’m always nervous about THE TAPER, but now that I’ve got two toes angry with me, I think it’s best. Let’s just call it “resting up,” before Bulldog.

Anyway, Saturday morning, the group of four of us found ourselves lost (for just a bit) running the roads looking for O’Neill Park. Luckily, I wasn’t leading, because I still don’t have a good feel for the geography or direction of the local mountains. And we weren’t really even in the mountains, more like at the base. When we finally did find it, I was amazed to find myself on a trail in O’Neill Park that I’ve run before, but had arrived to by a completely different route. I had no idea we were even in the vicinity. I’m only now slightly able to recognize and name the peaks, figuring out the valleys and canyons – yikes.

Sheila, Kelly, Tom

The run was lovely, relatively flat, with minor rolling hills (except for a few moderate climbs towards the end). We ran through several creek crossings. And then, best of all, we ran through that charming shaded trail that the high school cross country runners call “The Jungle.” And when we got lost for a second time, well, not really lost, just off onto a dead-end trail, we spooked three deer. What a delight to see them spring away to take cover behind nearby vegetation. If I didn’t say, “Deer!” as soon as I spotted them, we may have had a better view for a longer amount of time.

Headed Towards "The Jungle"

"The Jungle"

So more distance added from the back-tracking there, Kelly jokingly hollered to me “How’s that taper going, Lauren?”

We ended Saturday’s run with some climbs in the sun. On the way back into the high school parking lot I caught a glimpse of the pool and yearned to hop that wall and jump in. Back at home, I didn’t nap, in fact, I didn’t feel wiped-out at all. So, Sunday, I woke early to quench my thirst for the pool and swam laps at the gym (2,000 yards).

Cattails

Awesome Old Tree (& gotta love that shade!)



Me, Sheila, and Kelly (perhaps a display of her and Sheila's newly coined phrase: Direction Disorder Syndrome)


Miles run Saturday: 13.83 (I guess, the taper starts this week, and Thursday and Friday REST – let’s see how that goes) : )

Easy, Breezy Run

I have got to fit in short runs more often -- they do much for my attitude. I woke Thursday morning dead, I mean DEAD, to the world. And I told myself, "This must mean that I need more sleep, I should go back to bed." But I got plenty of sleep. I was just down. So I sat around, down, for a good hour and a half, then finally ran out the front door. I ran the marina, the wharf, on a practically empty road. There were a few walkers, two other runners. The sky was gray, the surf calm, and these big feet felt like feathers. That quick run lifted my spirits almost instantly. I felt strong, and pushed it harder. Adding a little more here and a little more there, I didn't want to stop running! Finally, I stopped myself. I also didn't want to lose that easy, breezy run.

Miles logged Thursday A.M.: 5.89