The Aftermath

I was on a high after finishing the Saddleback Marathon.  No injuries.  I didn’t even ache.  As the day progressed I began to feel nauseated.  And my quads began to stiffen.  I couldn’t sit for too long.  I had to walk around.  I took a hot bath.  I did chores.  By the time I went to bed, I ached head-to-toe.  I slept in pain, hardly able to even turn myself over as I slept.  I didn’t have the strength.

The day after the race I had to keep moving.  Though I still felt nauseated, I felt good overall.  But I couldn’t sit for more than probably five minutes without stiffening up.  I foam rolled all of my leg and hip muscles with excruciating pain.

On the 2nd day afterwards (Monday), my cell phone did not register the time change and I accidentally woke at 5 AM instead of 6.  It was this day  that depression hit, and it hit hard.  I sobbed, I felt hopeless.  Postpartum depression?  Nope.  Postsaddleback depression.  I went to the gym, pedaled 17 miles, did some weights, stretched like heck, did some back and ab work then worked those glutes on the roller like mad.  I felt like I had to get in shape, like I was sick and tired of glute issues, etc.  I felt weak.  I felt sad.

When I first started racing (not that long ago), I was a road runner.  At first I finished toward the back of the pack, about the bottom 25%.  I worked my way up into the the top half, occasionally the top third.  That was on the road.  That was when I raced with hundreds, sometimes thousands of runners.  I felt glad about these accomplishments.  Then I started trail racing.  And I plummeted to the back of the pack.  On the long-distance trail races especially, I was coming in way less than the bottom 25%.  But I ALWAYS said, it’s about finishing with me, not about time.  Somehow in my postsaddleback depression, that changed.   And I set my mind to a new goal – break through the bottom 25% barrier at Calico 2011.  I’ve got a few short months.  And I figure the only way to do it, besides train, is to run more bursts up those hills and  to strengthen, strengthen, strengthen through exercise and diet.  AND I CAN’T GET INJURED!

Anyway, back to that day 2, sleep was miserable once again.  I ached from head to toe.  I slept with a heating pad.

On the third day after Saddleback (today), depression only slightly lingered.  I was off to the gym again this time for more intense cardio on the elliptical.  I skipped the weights, did some ab work, stretched and foam rolled like heck again.  (For those unfamiliar with the foam roller – it’s a cylinder piece of hard foam that you lay and roll your muscles over.  It works like a massage, loosening up tight or achy muscles).

So here I am 3 full days past the most difficult trail race in my life, and I am finally recovered.  That is recovered mentally and mostly physically.  Though I still need to move around a lot, I can sit for extended periods without stiffening up.  Progress : )

Saddleback Marathon

Up at 4:30, I was on the road (5:30), driving up Highway 74 to Blue Jay Campground in the dark.  Missing the turnoff once, I parked along the road and ran on over to a camper to meet a exciting and wonderful Australian named Baz who puts on The Saddleback Marathon (among other races).

All my “stuff” laid out the night before – yikes!  Quite a bit there – my packing list has grown : )

Thankfully, Baz granted me and a few other runners an earlier start with the trail marker who was also running the race.  I was afraid that I would come in after the cut off if I didn’t get at least a little earlier start.  Turns out, Baz is a super nice guy and pretty lenient on the time limit. 

Anyway, the weather was perfectly cool this morning, the scenery lush and green, for the most part.  I think that first trail was San Juan Trail, which was mostly up and I ran it with little problem.  Then we were off for a magical downhill trip on Trabuco Trail, where the ferns were bright green and yellow leaves littered the floor.  The run took some concentration, especially when we hit the rockier areas.  I tripped several times, but never “ate dirt” or “ate rocks” rather.  I have run Trabuco Trail before, but nothing looked familiar to me.  But when we hit that rocky area – it all came back.  (Aug or July 09, I believe “In Over My Head” blog)

One super fun thing about getting an earlier start, I got to witness the front runners fly by me – I mean FLY by.  The first two passed on the flat desert-like part of Trabuco, about 9:00 AM.

Eager for my 3rd marathon this year, my 2nd trail marathon

Going up San Juan Trail (Irvine Lake in distance?)

Trabuco Trail

 

 Wonderful Aid Station Workers – they all look familiar to me, but I couldn’t place them

So, how do I make this race report sweet & simple.  I can’t.  But I will try.  The first ten or so miles went surprisingly well.  Aid Stations supplied, among other things, ice-cold Coca Cola, which I took like shots.  They felt like zingers and gave me the rush I needed.  Then we hit Holy Jim.  I thought to myself, this isn’t so bad (difficulty-wise), and even though I promised myself to hike all of Holy Jim, I ran a good deal of the beginning.  (I kept thinking “Eh, Bulldog is much harder!)  Besides that, Holy Jim was gorgeous with boulders, stream crossings, colorful leaf liter, small waterfalls along the way.  And then we hit the switch-back, one after the other after the other

Mile 11.5 or so, I felt I could not take another step.  Cramps were setting in.  First my toes began cramping, then my calves.  Though I had been taking S-Caps (salt) all along, I began eating them like candy. 

Still going up Holy Jim . . .

About the time we were supposed to reach the Main Divide, according to my garmin, I couldn’t see it.  I feared I had got off track.  I could hear falls somewhere nearby, but I didn’t turn my head to investigate.  I was too concerned about reaching the divide.  Then I saw Sheila up above climbing an extremely steep incline.  And then another runner came up behind.  That last tiny stretch of Holy Jim was quite difficult.  It was layered with several inches of slippery acorns. Using my hands to climb up, I could see a truck through the trees.  Then a table came into focus.  I had made it – the 13.5 mile aid station at elevation 4,056 on the Main Divide!

The station workers were awesome – supportive and at my service to the extreme.  They wouldn’t let me do a single thing for myself.  I took my Coca Cola shots, refilled my water, popped in more than necessary Nuun tablets and was off for a gorgeous, windy up and down trip along the Main Divide.  On one side I could see The O,C., the otherside, Lake Elsinore.

Lake Elsinore down there

While I had been sucking down gels all along, I knew that I had to get in more calories.  But I really didn’t think I could hold down any solid food.  At station #4 one of the aid workers pulled a Luna Bar out of my pack.  I held that thing in my hand for a while as I ran along the divide.  I could feel the cramping just at bay.  My body crusted in salt, I continued to down those S-caps. 

A little delirious at this point : )  Feeling goofy.

All the runners I met along the way were friendly and supportive as I ran this last portion, waiting, waiting, waiting for that last aid station – after that it would be all down hill.  I felt like a zombie.  I was just running with no thoughts, nothing – simply putting one foot in front of the other when I yelled inside my head, “Eat!”  And so I began taking little bites of that Luna Bar.  I kept it all down. 

Another runner, Jeff, and I came up on the last aid station at the same time.  This station was run by Steve and Annie Harvey (I recognized them  from my first Calico Ghost Town trail race).  They are a friendly couple who are race directors for the Old Goat Trail Races. 

So dang happy to find out we had only three miles left, I really started acting quite silly, yakking away with the Annie and Harvey, saying it was a true miracle that I had made it that far, etc., etc.  I was the happiest girl you’d ever see after climbing more than 5,500 feet!   I finally took off running, actually running, when my legs could move no more.  Some time later, Jeff caught up with me.  And we ran those last three miles together, the longest three miles EVER.  We crossed the finish line before every one had packed up and left.  Several other runners came in one after the other after that.  And I found it odd that I hadn’t even noticed them out there behind us.   I used the garmin to give the recorders my official time, since I got an early start.  I was running up in those mountains for a little over 7 hours!!

I felt perfectly fine after crossing the finish line.  I chatted some with fellow runner Dave (but forgot to snap a photo of him!) and also with Mark.  I laughed at Baz, his energetic and boisterous personality.  But I forgot to say good-bye to Jeff.  If you read this Jeff – it was great running in with you.  You helped take my mind off the total hell that my body was going through : )

It is finished!!!  3 marathons this year:  Check

The Movie   😲

5,523 Elevation gain

I’m Scared to Death

Aside from normal scary life stuff, like hardships for my children, or death of loved ones, or experiencing a car accident, I’m not usually scared by things.  Rattlesnakes don’t scare me. Speaking in public doesn’t scare me.  Heights don’t scare me.  Roller coasters don’t scare me.  I don’t get claustrophobic.   Falling down a mountain doesn’t really scare me.  Even cutting my own hair, blinded to the backside (like I did today), doesn’t scare me.

I’ll tell you what scares me – this SATURDAY.  I’m scared to death about the Saddleback Marathon, mainly because I’m not trained.  Not only am I not train, I am injured, and I’m gonna go out here (foolishly) and run 26.2 miles with 5000+ of elevation gain. (At least it will be beautiful).  If you’ve been reading all along, you know I didn’t do this on purpose.  Life just got in the way.

Such is life.

Such is life?

Such is my life.

A 17 year old student asked said to me this afternoon, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but how old are you?”

When I told him that I was 45, he seemed impressed that I was doing the race this weekend.  Little does he know.  There’s a multitude of 45-plus-year-olds that can blow me away on that mountain this weekend.

And so . . .

Races don’t normally SCARE me like this.  I was too stupid to be scared for my first Calico Ghost Town race.  By the second year, I knew, and I was scared.  I was a little scared about my first marathon, the San Diego Rock ‘n Roll Marathon.  But I never doubted that I could do it.  I also remember being scared about my first half (Disney Half Marathon) – but again, I didn’t doubt that I could do it. Though I’m always anxious about going up Bulldog, I don’t even recall being as scared as I am now with the Bulldog 50k (my first DNF).  I completely envisioned that I could finish that thing.  But now, with all that’s happened this year, my glute still stabbing with pain, I’m scared, I mean, scared stiff about the Saddleback Marathon.  You can be sure, I’m going more than prepared (that is, I’m packing in everything I could possibly need – so what if it weights 25 pounds : ).

So I went to the gym today, with the notion to stretch and relax.  I rolled my glutes and my IT Band to no end.  I stretched.  And I worked on my abs – surprisingly experiencing a good deal of glute pain. 

Afterward, I sat in the steam room, concentrating on my breathing.  I pretty much hated it in there with those boiling hot drops of water falling on me (and my ipod!!). Then I went to the sauna (I love the sauna).  I laid down on the cedar bench, listening to music through earphones for two long (8 minute) songs.  I focused on breathing again (meaning diaphragm breathing, in through the mouth, out through the nose).  When it was time to leave, sadly I could not lift myself off the bench without excruciating glute pain.  There I laid in an empty sauna with no way to get up.  If only someone could walk in and offer me a hand, pull me up.  When it looked like that wasn’t going to happen, I rolled myself down to the lower bench, then quickly rolled myself up.

I ended this “stretch and relax” session with 15 minutes in the jacuzzi.  Focusing the jet stream on my glutes, I finished up surprisingly refreshed.  It wasn’t until after work (wearing pumps for 4 hours) that the glute pain resumed.  And oh ya, my deltoid/pec ached with no relief.   After dinner out, a sticky heating pad on my shoulder, plus with a couple glasses of wine and 3 Motrin, I told my husband, “I need to drink a couple glasses of wine before the Saddleback Marathon and I will be fine.”

Ya.

Meanwhile, another horse pill antibiotic to swallow tonight, two more again tomorrow and days to come . . . perhaps all will be well come this weekend.

On the plus side, I will be running this race with a very sweet running friend who is also scared, and maybe another running friend (who I don’t think is scared : )  But that’s okay too, she can lead the way!

Yup; I was there.

Despite my complaining, and maybe it was stupid, (I was hoping the antibiotics would protect me) but I grabbed me some of that fortitude this afternoon and headed out for a trail run.  I just had to do it.  It wasn’t that a short hilly run was gonna suddenly train me for the following weekend.  I just needed the release, the escape.

I took 4 ibuprofen, 2 Sudafed, packed my hydro pack with plenty of water (let me tell ya I drank it all), and ran down Canyon Vistas park with my shoulder reeking of Icy Hot, and a pain jabbing my RIGHT glute.  (It switched sides – go figure :)

At the bottom of Cholla Trail I asked a mountain biker if he would grab the Icy Hot out of my pack.  He kindly obliged, then I hid behind a sign, and COATED that glute.  I powered up Cholla best that I could.  Passed a biker resting at the side along the way.

I focused on relaxing and not compensating by changing my gate.  Mid-foot strike (especially on the uphills), straight core, and most importantly I concentrated on relaxing.  Toward the end of West Ridge I found myself running alongside three male runners who were just at my pace – they had actually passed a ways back, but I caught them on the uphills.  Conversation with one of the gentlemen took my mind off the tough end of West Ridge.

 Me at Top of the World, Pacific Ocean/Laguna Beach in background (look!  My ipod matches my shirt)

I can’t express what a relief I felt to stand at the Top of the World.  The breeze was cool, the people smiling.  By then my arm felt no pain, my glute minimal pain.  The ocean was dark, the skies bright.  And I have to say that just standing there gave me a boost – a mental boost (I don’t think it did so much for me physically). 

After running into Alta Laguna Park and stocking up on toilet paper to blow my nose, I ran back up to West Ridge with gusto.  I stretched and took a few snap shots, then ran, not that swiftly, back up and down, up and down West Ridge to Cholla, and back to the car.  I arrived home to greet my parents who stopped by for a short visit.  Then I spent a pleasant evening feeling just fine, my with my youngest son’s friend and parents.  And we gathered entirely too much candy trick or treating on this Halloween night. 

Photo of a beetle (stink bug) as it crosses beneath me during glute/hamstring stretch at Top of the World

Elevation Profile

Miles logged on this Halloween:  6.24

I don’t mean to complain but . . .

I really do hate to complain, I don’t mean to complain.  But the truth of the matter is, I’m screwed.  I mean, really, really screwed.  At this point, the only thing that is going to save me is fortitude.

Definition of FORTITUDE

strength of mind that enables a person to encounter danger or bear pain or adversity with courage

Examples of FORTITUDE

1. She has endured disappointments with fortitude and patience.
2. <it was only with the greatest fortitude that the Pilgrims were able to survive their first winter in Plymouth>

Origin of FORTITUDE

Middle English, from Latin fortitudin-, fortitudo, from fortis

First Known Use: 12th century

Related to FORTITUDE

Synonyms: backbone, constancy, fiber, grit, grittiness, guts, intestinal fortitude, pluck, spunk

http://mw1.meriam-webster.com/dictionary/fortitude

I first started thinking about fortitude after my pastor spoke about it one evening that I went to church with my oldest son.  I had never really thought of the word before.  I had thought about “suffering gracefully”, which I cannot do.  But fortitude?  Well, that got me inspired.  2010 has been a tough, tough year – in so many ways that I won’t even begin to go into.  All this time I’ve been hoping and praying for things to get better, but then it dawned on me: IT MIGHT NOT.  I always thought a positive attitude makes things better.  But I’m realizing that I can’t control the world and that a positive attitude, well, that’s all good and all, it helps emotionally, but it surely doesn’t stop the bad things from happening.  As I sat and listened to that sermon, I thought to myself that I’d better suck it up and get me some of that fortitude, because things might not get better for a long time.  Of course, I’m not merely talking about my physical strength and abilities, I’m talking about life.

But concerning my physical strength and abilities, namely TRAIL RUNNING, it’s all been going downhill for a while (or should I say uphill!).   My training went astray last Father’s Day when we were involved in that 4 car collision (which by the way, the adjuster of the person at fault is telling me that my medical bills were way too high, and they aren’t even considering all of them, and my “training” means absolutely nothing to him – I am after all a 45 year old woman with 3 kids and a husband at home – what the heck business do I have traipsing around the hillside like I’m some kind of athlete?”  He didn’t say that last part, but that’s what he was thinking, I just know : )).

And thus I digress.  SO!  I really started thinking about fortitude again last weekend when I got stung by a wasp twice while running up the Santa Monica Mountains.  And I prayed for fortitude. I made it through that race amazingly fine – especially with very little training.  Which brings me to now:

That day I got a sore throat.  The next day decided not to workout, not because of the sore throat or sneezing and coughing, but because my quads were so stiff from that long downhill run.  When Tuesday rolled around, I decided to get to the gym to at least loosen up – I have the Saddleback Marathon looming ahead.  I sat in the steam room and sauna (lovely), foam rolled, worked on abs and lifted weights.  And since my deltoid and pec seemed so much better, I had the bright idea to workout all muscle groups, including my arms.

My arm (shoulder area) has ached since.  I practically wear a heating pad over my shoulder now as part of my normal attire.  Not only that, I’ve got that dang glute issue going on, not to mention, lower back pain.  I’ve been stretching and rolling the glutes like mad.  Doesn’t seem to help.

Wednesday, I wanted to run, but I was too sick.  Thursday, same thing.  Now I’m really falling into the pits.  I can’t even look at runners on the street, I get so jealous.  I was so sick, my husband had to get the kids to school.  He came home and told me, T____’s mom  “was going for a run this morning.” 

“La, la, la,” I covered my ears.   “I don’t want to hear it . . . wait!”  I uncovered my ears.  “Where’s she running?”

“It didn’t look like she was wearing trail shoes,” he said.

“Have you ever noticed her legs all dirty, I mean, this is important!  THINK!Has she ever picked up her kids with her legs caked in dirt like I do?”

“No,” he said, “I’ve never noticed her legs covered with dirt.”

“Okay.  GOOD.”

Thursday, I was still too sick to run.  My deltoid/pec still aching, glute painful, throat sore I headed off to the gym – I had a marathon in a little over a week.  I got a good workout.  I spent over an hour on the elliptical, lifted some weights (no arms!), did ab work and lastly did some lower back strengthening (bad, bad idea!)

Friday, too sick to run.  But I felt better, better enough to get the kids to school, do errands and take the Boo Cruise out of the Harbor.

Saturday, big plans to run.  Too sick to run.  So I finally went to the doctor, spent two hours in the waiting room.  Turns out, my cold turned into a secondary infection, which fortunately can be treated with antibiotics.  “Are you going to give me the fast acting kind?” I asked, eagerly. 

Nope.

“Should I double dose the first one?”

Nope.

Fortitude, I need fortitude.

Sunday, again, big plans to run.  I caked on the Icy Hot, took 4 ibuprofen and laid a heating pad over my lower back when I went to bed last night (at 9:30).

When the alarm when off at 5:00 AM, I decided I was still too sick to run. 

And so as you can see, I am screwed.  With practically no marathon training whatsoever, I’m going to run one next Saturday with 5,000+ feet of elevation gain. 

Fortitude!  Please give me fortitude.

Coastal Trail Runs – Malibu Creek 25k

Though I went to bed early, I got little sleep.  It seems I woke every two hours and dreamt all night that I was running, racing actually a double loop that went through houses and backyards.  I finally woke at 5 AM for good and hit the road for Malibu Creek State Park at 5:30.

I felt excited to run the same loop I’ve done on 4 other occasions, but this time in the opposite direction (clockwise).  I thought clockwise had to be easier than counter-clockwise.  After all, I wouldn’t have to climb Bulldog Road (which stresses me out immensely – which should make me ponder why do I do it???)

Anyway, this was a low key race, actually three races, a 10k, 25k, 50k all starting at once.  I believe the race director said there were 92 runners.  About 30 ran my race.   I recognized one woman from the Marine Hard Corps Marathon this year.  That brave soul was going to conquer the 50k.

My strategy:  take it slow.  (Borrowing someone else’s words: start off slow and end slow).  And so I did.  I started at the back of the pack, pain stabbing my right glute.  But as I ran up Backbone Trail (it’s usually the last hill in the race, a torturous devil of a little hill, what a joy to get it over first), I felt happy, to be running this loop once again.  My main goal was to finish – that’s all.  Finish.

Running down the other side of Backbone (which is usually hell coming up at the end of the race) I got a little surprise.  Something fast-flying flew beneath my sleeve and stung my right shoulder!  I screamed, or yelled, I think it was a scream actually, and brushed the thing out of my sleeve.  Then it swiftly flew down and stung my ring finger, the one with my wedding band.  My finger immediately swelled up and I ran in pain, astonished, wondering what the heck stung me.  I couldn’t imagine; all I knew was that bees lose their stingers when they sting.  So, it couldn’t have been a bee. 

At Aid station number one, we looked through the first aid kit for an antihistamine.  Coming up empty handed, I popped some ibuprofen, which did nothing for the sting pain , but took care of the glute problem.  The aid worker said that a hornet probably got me – they don’t lose their stingers when they use them. 

Yikes.  My first wasp sting.  Rather, stings.

So, I had to work on my attitude a bit as I continued running.  I can’t run a loop like this with a bad attitude.  Relaxing my body and my mind, I prayed some (Dear Lord, give me fortitude), repeated mantra’s like loosen-up, loosen-up and found in no time that negative attitude gone.  And I kept on Truckin’ . . . 

Running up to the ridge was not easy, in fact it was very difficult.  I hiked some of it.  But it was by NO MEANS as difficult as climbing Bulldog.

I caught a cool breeze running the ridge line.  There were some up hills and down hills.  I could take them all, having not been destroyed by Bulldog.  I tripped once, pretty hard on the ridge.  I barely lost a step.

Heading up the Mountain

Beauty on the Trail

Onward to Bulldog Road (& second aid station)

Running down Bulldog was an eye-opener.  I fought hard to keep a constant pace, finding it difficult not to “fly” down that road.  I admit as I ran down Bulldog I thought to myself, I’m NEVER climbing this thing again – it’s strange looking at Bulldog Road from another direction.  I finally realized why it’s such a difficult climb.  There is absolutely no relief from the climb and very little shade.  And it’s a long trail, more than three miles. 

With my brain empty I concentrated on the road, slipping once (fortunately I caught myself).  Then, this is how emotional running is for me, my dog Daisy popped into my mind about half way down the mountain.  I sobbed out loud in mourning.  Though I found it difficult to breathe while crying and running, I didn’t stop myself until I was done.  Sobbing that is, not running. 

After Bulldog, I ran past the M.A.S.H. movie set where picnickers set themselves up alongside a rusted jeep.  And then I made my way onto the single track, not stopping once.  I did trip once here though, but again kept on my feet (strength training!). 

By mile 13, I had grown so dang tired, that the old Lauren (before trail running) would have laid down in the shade for a nap.  But I kept on running, so eager to make the finish line.  I knew my time was going to be my slowest ever for this loop (more than 4 hours).  Like I cared!  I barely had any business running this race.

When I finally crossed over the creek again, I felt a huge sense of relief – homeward bound relief.  I could roll myself to the finish line if I had to at that point.  But I didn’t need to.  The crowds of people dressed in their church clothes mingling about the creek brought such a smile to my face and heart, that I ran it on in, slowly yes, but extremely thrilled that one of the 50k runners didn’t lap me.  I really didn’t want to get lapped.  (I expected that the closer and closer I got to the finish).  I didn’t even get the honored DFL.

Remnants of M.A.S.H. television props

Along the Final Stretch (well, not exactly the FINAL stretch, but almost there)

At Finish Line (not looking too pretty, but oh so happy to finish!)

Overall, I had a great time.  Now I truly know the meaning of “Quad Killer.”  I’ve heard runners say this or that hill is a “Quad Killer,” but I’ve never had any bad effects from any of these downhills.  RUNNING DOWN BULLDOG WAS A QUAD KILLER.  I can barely move around tonight, my quads are so stiff and sore.

Oh, there’s more : )  Elevation profile below and the movie (I can’t resist) beneath that.

Miles logged today:  15.55

Trails are Closed Until Further Notice Due to Wet and Muddy Conditions

My last run was Buffalo Alley.  I didn’t run Sunday, but planned a week full of trail runs.  And then the rain came.  It poured, lightening lit the skies, thunder growled loud enough to scare all my children.  Monday and Tuesday came and went.  I thought still I can get in one good long run before Malibu Creek.  And it continued to rain.  Wednesday left us wet, and I still thought, there’s time . . . there’s time.  Thursday, more rain – but it wasn’t supposed to rain!  And then at last today, Friday, I woke to rain once again.  But I continued checking the trail websites, even calling the park.  All I got was “Trails are closed until further notice due to wet and muddy conditions.”

Phooey.

All week I obsessed over going to the gym.  Spent hours each day there, as if.  As if somehow miles on the elliptical, weight training and core work could help me run up the Santa Monica Mountains.  Deep down though, I knew that I could ride the elliptical until the cows came home, and it wouldn’t help me run up those mountains.  Pretty much, the only thing that’s gonna condition me to run up mountains, is running up mountains.  Sure, strength training and cardio are aids, mother’s little helpers.  Little helpers that lessen injuries.  They don’t substitute for the real thing. (That is running up mountains)

But then I went and re-injured/re-strained what seems to be my left deltoid and pectoral.  The pain bothers me so much, that I cannot even rightly sleep.  It’s odd, standing up, even pumping my arms doesn’t cause much pain.  But I’m in agony when I stoop or lay down.  And I can’t even begin to get into a plank position.

Woe is me : )

And so this morning after checking and re-checking Aliso Wood Canyons website, plus phoning them SEVERAL times, I said screw it!  I did not go to the gym.  I did no core work at home.  I lifted no weights.  I simply ran errands.  I cleaned house, stabbed my hand with a fork doing dishes (literally had to pull the fork out of my palm).  I did laundry, dropped off the boys, picked up the boys and drove out to San Diego County with my oldest son for my mother to color and trim my hair. 

I can only do what I can – isn’t this the same ole’ story????  (I know this sounds a bit crazy, but it’s a fun story – that is, when looking back.)

On the good side, I’m only signed up for the 25k this weekend, which has the same time limit as the 50k, 8 1/2 hours!  I should be able to do that : )))