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

Black Star Falls

I have driven past Black Star Canyon Road many times.  I have even parked on Black Star Canyon Road to carpool into Silverado Canyon.  I have heard of the haunted legends, but I have never ventured into Black Star Canyon. 

First a little about the legends:  William Wolfskill and the entire Indian village he massacred roam the canyon.  There's claims of Indians riding on horseback, rabbits that don't die and other "ghostly" happenings.  People say that the Klu Klux Klan meet in the canyon, and also that witches hold ceremonies there as well (What would happen if the witches stumbled upon the KKK, I wonder?)

I did not see any of these things (though I did have that sensation first entering the trail, where it seems like there's a shadow of someone out of the corner of my eyes -- this happens frequently with me and others as well, so perhaps you know what I mean.) And so I digress . . .

It was a group of five of us today (Me, my husband, Dave, and three locals, Jeff, Sam and Chay). Our destination, "The Falls." (Another side note: Today was the scheduled day for the second Great Silverado Footrace. After its cancellation, the race director, Chay, organized this hike).

We took the main road for a mile or so, then cut down to the stream, then hiked up, passing several smaller "falls" along the way. We climbed over giant boulders, played with newts, tramped through poisin oak (oh no!). The weather was perfect, the hike tricky. I fell while climbing a boulder once, but really lucked out landing on my feet (my only damage is a scrape and bruise on my arm from sliding down the rock face when I fell). And then finally after about two hours of hiking, we came upon the lovely falls. Breathtaking.

Abandoned school bus rolled off the road

The stream was literally full of these little guys.  Often we'd see a ball of newts beneath the water -- several of them entangled around each other) 


Ball of Newts


Which way to go???  Up over the boulder, or through that mass of poisin oak on the left or that mass of poisin oak on the right? : )




Not "The Falls," but one of many little ones along the way

More Falls

I think that I'm going to go sit on that ledge, but it's too slippery to get up on

Sam leads the way


Our destination -- notice how the water falls from the top, then flows through hole in the rock to spill out bottom left of photo

Father & Son


Looking for a way to climb up (too risky in the end)


Me, Dave, Sam, Jeff & Chay

Heading back

Though I'm Hesitant, I Think Now I Can Say, "I'M BACK."

Put in a nice, sorta-long TRAIL run this morning at my favorite wilderness park (Aliso and Wood Canyons Park).  This one was solo.  I dressed a bit too warm (time to pack away the micro-fleece) and didn't carry enough water (just one handheld to refill at the Top of The World.)  Despite all that -- it was a lovely run, and best of all NO HIP PAIN.

Originally, I planned on an out-and-back (14 miles), but I changed the course last second, because I wanted to get the major climbing over with.  That meant only one thing -- running up Meadows (Meadows, I believe has the most elevation climb in the shortest distance out of all the trails up).  From there, I ran the ridge into the neighborhoods along the Top of the World and re-entered the park at Westridge Trail.  I ran Westridge in its entirety to Cholla Trail to meet the delightfully shady Wood Canyon, which I ran back to Aliso Creek Trail, hot, sweaty, eyes stingy from salt, but loving, loving, loving it. 

An "OA" Pictorial of today's 11.64 mile run

Cholla Cactus along Aliso Creek Trail, a bizarre looking plant

The entrance to Meadows Trail after a turn off Aliso Creek Trail and a quick stint on Wood Canyon.  Meadows Trail is relatively flat for about a mile before the steep mile or so, switch-back climb begins to Top of the World.

Lupin Flowers (California Native) along Meadows Trail

Continuing along Meadows Trail (Off to the right, & out of sight, the agonizing, yet glorious, switch-back climb begins)

Running through the Mustard plants on my way up Meadows Trail

Nearing the top of Meadows Trail, last climb just ahead, I'm wishing about now that I could chuck the long-sleeve, but I won't dare run in a sports bra (that's just me : )

Finally at the Top of the World -- actually there is still a little climb on pavement before I reach the  REAL "Top of the World" neighborhood.  Camera on automatic set up on the trash can, I set out for a personal view of the neighborhoods below and the Pacific Ocean (really, I'm not posing).  Do you see Catalina Island in the background?


On my way to exiting the park, to re-enter again at Westridge in about 1 mile.


Obeying "No Trespassing" signs at Top of the World neighborhood (because I'm no scofflaw : ) I run down the trail behind the homes

The nice n' easy part of this run -- some road runnin'

Entering Aliso and Wood Canyons Park once again, from Alta Vista Park


Heading along Westridge Trail, an up and down trip, but mainly down


The Entrance to Cholla Trail -- what a delight to enter at this end, it's all down hill from here baby!


I know I said it was all downhill, it really is except for this tiny bump


Prickly Pear on Cholla Trail


Shade!  Finally SHADE!  (Notice runner coming up on the left on Wood Canyon Trail -- he's shirtless and I'm wearing longsleeves!)


The breeze blew in my face and I can't state enough how happy I was to run in the shade.  Water low, I was conserving.  Oh, and notice the biker up ahead.

More of shady Wood Canyon Trail


Don't touch that stuff (& you find it in the most beautiful lush places) -- that's Poisin Oak


Just another picture of Wood Canyon Trail that I had to capture

Glad to Run

I hit the pavement this morning, feeling terrible, down, not wanting to run, but knowing that I'd want to run eventually. I made no plan where to run, and though I warmed up some, I felt pretty miserable as I ran into the town center.  Refusing to make any decisions on distance or route, I thought I'd just give it some time, then call it a day if I needed to. 

I looked at my watch when it hit me -- gladness, that is. It was precisely 56 minutes after leaving my front door. From then on out, I enjoyed running through the local beaches, wharf and marina. Taking in more calories than usual (as it seems that on these long runs I am lacking greatly in fuel intake) I felt strong for the remainder of the run.

This is why I keep running even on those days when I don't feel like it. I know it's only a matter of time, usually, when I'm glad I'm out there running.

Miles logged this morning:  17.2

Random Thoughts Re: Falling on the Run

Trail falls, or any fall for that matter, well, they're not fun!  I laugh that I even have experience enough to talk about the subject.  As a child, falls weren't so bad.  I got these "cool" scabs on my knees that I picked off piece by piece.  As a child, the distance to the ground wasn't that far (even from a tree branch it didn't seem that far).  And for some reason, impact didn't jolt me so much (that's probably because less weight impacts the ground at a lesser force -- who knows, I'm no physicist : )

These are my thoughts on falls (I haven't gone back and checked, but I believe at last count, my falls while running totalled nine . . . NINE).  

1)  Falling on cement is way, way, way worse than falling on the trail. 

2)  You must roll with your fall. What I mean by a roll is to somehow at impact, roll to the left or right onto your side.  It just happens with me, there's not enough time to plan it.  If I hit the ground directly with no roll, then I'm injuried FOR SURE.
 

3)  A fall  on the downhill is much worse than on the uphill.  And it's harder to get in that roll on a flat surface -- but doable.

4)  Falls happen when I'm most giddy, like when I can see the end of a long, difficult run.  I remember one case (Bulldog 25K), when I caught site of the youth detention center in the distance. I knew then that I was homeward bound.  I got so giddy, that I took one of my worst spills to date.  (I actually scared the runners around me who swarmed above in a frantic way to help -- I felt badly for putting them through that : )

5)  The first thing that goes through my mind when I'm falling is:  "OMG.  I can't believe that I'm falling!!!"  It's quite frankly amazing how much more goes though my mind in the short period of time it takes to hit the ground -- I think things like, "Who's gonna call the paramedics?"  "I should have seen it coming."  "Not Again!"  And, "What am I gonna tell my husband???

So there you have it, some random thoughts on falling.

Twenty Miles!

I had to go back to my 2008 log to find a nice flat twenty miler.  I don't own a garmin, so I can't simply run until I hit twenty miles (I measure with Google Earth afterwards). I'm The Planner, remember.  It helps to know my route.  I like to split long runs into legs, or segments.  It's not twenty miles I'm running -- it's 3 legs.  I'll do the same for the marathon in two weeks that I'm not ready for.  It won't be 26.2 miles -- it will be five miles five times, plus 1.2 miles.

I set out this morning, the moon still high, but the sky lit slightly from a sun threatening to rise.  The weather was cold and breezy.  I wore shorts, long sleeves and gloves, but wished for a ski mask or at least beanie as I headed down Highway One.  Surprised to see an "Open" sign at the corner restaurant, I could smell they were cooking bacon.   

Leg One:  8.85 Miles -- Into San Juan Capistrano and back to Doheny Beach

I ran through the community park to get right onto the river walk, aka bike trail.  Last week, I asked an adult student of mine, who I know bikes the riverwalk, whether the bike trail was open, specifically the bridge that takes you over to the otherside.  He assured me it was -- he said that he had "just crossed the bridge a few days ago, in fact."

The sun peeked above the horizon, and I saw soon enough, bulldozers and a big "closed" sign up ahead.  Grrrr.  They've been working on the riverwalk for more than a year!!!  "I'll figure something out," I said to myself, determined to leave negativity behind.  Sure enough, no one manned the machinery, so I hopped right over the yellow tape and continued onward into San Juan Capistrano.  About a mile later, I came to a chain link fence right across the trail.  But I was able to hop off it, run into the dirt a while to get around the chain link and back onto the path. 

There were plenty of other runners out on the river walk.  As I passed one of  them, I asked her whether the bridge was open.  She thought I was waving to her.  She smiled and waved back.  Well, the bridge was open.  Thing was, there was another chain link fence directly across the trail blocking me from the bridge's entrance.  So, I walked down the bank some, ran under the bridge, came up on the other side, crossed the bridge (picture above) and continued my way along the trail.  Ha!

I crossed Camino Capistrano over to Stone Field (a popular soccer field with large stones stacked for "bleechers.")  I felt a tightness in my right calve, wondering about blood clots (my latest paranoia), I stopped for a quick calve stretch.  And then about a quarter mile later, I stopped abruptly and layed in the library grass for a glute stretch, ridding myself of a tightness on the right side as well. 

The rest of Leg One was beautiful.  Purposely leaving my camera at home to avoid extra weight, I found myself pulling my phone out to snap shots.  I ran through downtown, to the train depot where a few families waited in the cold for a train.  There I crossed the tracks into the Los Rios Historic District.  No tourists out, only workmen washing down walkways.  I felt strong throughout Leg One, hydrating with only electrolytes.  I ran the riverwalk back.  Doheny Beach coming into sight in seemingly no time; the start of Leg Two brought gladness to my heart -- I was home again.

Running Through Downtown San Juan Capistrano

Sarducci's Restaurant Along the Tracks, Adjacent To The Depot

Crossing Over The Tracks Into The Los Rios Historic District

A Los Rios Business Storefront

Leg Two: 4.56 Miles

Just as with Leg One, my main focus for Leg Two was "No Resistance."  I felt strong, carefree.   I took in my first 100 calories in the form of a powdered shake with water in my  handheld.  I circled the full campground twice, noticing plates mainly from California and Nevada.  There was one lone Montana plate as well.

Plenty of runners made this leg too, as I ran through Doheny on into Capo Beach.  I turned around where the sidewalked ended, stopped briefly to snap one photo of Leg Two.  I made the campground loop once again on the way toward the marina, the smoke from campfires a bit bothersome.  The wood had an odd odor, like it was treated or something.

Capo Beach On A Cool Breezy Saturday (the cliffs in the furthest background is my turnaround point for the final stretch home)

Leg Three: 7.03 Miles

I switched back and forth between focusing on form and "No Resistance," during Leg Three, which included running out to the jetty, running through a crowded wharf and finally running alongside the harbor.  The sidewalks were crowded with walkers.  The coffee houses and breakfast joints were packed.

I decided to take in my next two hundred calories before crossing over to the island.  Why wait until I'm fatigued to fuel?  My problem so many times with running is that I wait.  I wait to hydrate, I wait to refuel, I wait to stretch.

During Leg Three I found my focus change to breathing -- that is getting a full exhale out before inhaling.  About halfway around the island, exhaustion set in.  It wasn't terrible, and I kept my pace.  Still, I was looking forward to the end of this run.  I was so close now, just about two miles, I just couldn't quit.  And so I kept on going, turning around at the cliffs for that tired, tired, yet accomplished final stretch back home.  I walked up the block to my house for some cool down, then walked around the backyard for a good long while before putting in a nice long stretch.

Turnaround Point at the Cliffs Before Heading Back Home.


Total Miles logged this morning: 20.44
Good News:  No Hip Pain on the Run, No Utter Exhaustion (though I did hit that minor wall on the island), and best of all, I got in a twenty miler before the marathon.
Other News:  Hip was stiff during PT exercises this evening, though I did spend some hours scootering with my boys down at Doheny Beach this evening too.  I also got flack today about my running, not from just one, but two family members (it's been a long time since that's happened); it disappointed me some, because it solidified the fact that they don't have a clue why I run.  And why should they?  You can only know if you KNOW.  From the outside, I realize, it looks ridiculous.

Top of the World -- At Last!

I woke to pouring rain at 5:30 AM.  It was supposed to rain, so I wasn't surprised.  In fact, I was kind of relieved, because as I've read recently, "listen to your body," and my body was saying "I Am Tired! I Need Rest!"  

Rain ceased by the time I drove my first two boys off to school.  Clouds parted as I prepared my preschooler for school.  And so I dressed for a run, ignoring my body, still hoping it might rain, because I felt so physically fatigued. 

Rain did not fall as I drove off to break another rule, that is "rolling hills only."  My plan:  run to the Top of the World.  Why?  Because I HAD to.

I know this sounds odd, perhaps you can relate, but I felt fearful, anxious as I made my way to Canyon Vistas Park (entrance to the shortest route to the top).  I hadn't run to Top of the World since February 22.  I didn't know what Cholla Trail would do to me.  Was I going to wrench my hip?  Would I even be able to run to the top?

To begin, Cholla is no "rolling" hill in any sense of the word (though it is only a half mile).  Oddly, I ran it easier than I have in a long time, focusing on "No Resistance."  That's not to say that the trail was EASY.  It  was just easier, much more than I ever imagined. 

Westridge Trail is mostly rolling (except for two steep portions).  Still fearing even a tinge in the hip, I made extra effort to keep a straight column, kick out the back, and relax.  Even with all that effort, I nearly twisted an ankle on Westridge, because I was just so giddy over finally making my way to the top.

Ran the whole way, then turned around and ran back, totalling 6 gleeful difficult miles.  (I'd say those 6 miles were easily equivilant to 12 flat road miles).

I followed orders for the remainder of this adventure:  long cool down, stretched, iced, hip exercises back at home, ALL WITHOUT AN ACHE.  (Now, I just hope that I sleep through the night without hip problems -- oddly, it seems to attack as I sleep or while waking).

But forget all about that!  I ran to Top of the World today. 

Glorious.

PROOF : )

At Top of the World, Looking Down at Laguna Beach and Pacific Ocean

Turning Around and Heading back on Westridge for a Final Gleeful Descent Down Cholla