Sneaking Exercises

Monday:  Sick.  I woke with soaking clothes from sweating through the night.  Definitely bummed, because I planned on another lackadaisical run.  Cancelled that.  If there’s anything I learned (which ain’t much!), that is don’t run with a fever or sore throat.  And I had both.

I was so fortunate that my husband had time to take all the boys to school (all different drop off times).  Sure I stumbled to the kitchen to make their lunches, but he did the hard part.  I slept pretty much all day.  He picked them all up from school.  How do single parents do it????

Monday night the entire family attended our oldest son’s orchestra concert.  Quite a delight.  We returned home late, and I had to work on a science project with middle son (which involved popping popcorn and weighing it against an apple), so I didn’t get the sleep I needed again.

Thankfully, I don’t work Mondays.  That would have layed me out!

Tuesday, I woke sick again, but without a fever.  I managed to drop the first boy off, then childishly requested (meaning, I didn’t straight out ask, instead, I “guilted” hubby into making the remaining drop offs.)  And then . . . AND THEN, I managed to use my unique persuasiveness to get my “better half”  to do the pick-ups and watch the younger boys’ OC Marathon training, which meant:  I got to sneak in some exercises.  I had to work fast.  But I did it.  I got in lots of core work.  And I sweated through a hand-held weight video and rushed in a shower.  No one was the wiser.  Except for you guys.  No one in my family ever reads this blog.

Two days in a row no runs, but at least I got to sneak in some exercises.

Sometimes A Run Doesn’t “Do It”

Today I planned my lackadaisical run instead of a long run.  That is I could run where I wanted, basically run for the joy of it, no pressure, no time constraints.  Thing was . . . I wasn’t feeling much joy.  In fact, I felt downright groggy and depressed.  A run, I thought surely would pull me out.  It usually does.  Especially a lackadaisical run.

The runner I ran in with at the Saddleback Marathon last November told me that he runs up the opposite side of Canyon Vistas to catch a trail that takes him up to the two water towers.  At the top, he catches Five Oaks Trail, the one trail in Aliso/Wood Canyons Park I have not run in its entirety.

That intrigued me and I’ve been wanting to explore ever since.  I couldn’t find the trail though this morning.  Looking back, I should have run up to the neighborhoods and met up with the trail that way.  Instead, I ran down a muddy slope and ran the storm drains until it stopped or masses of fallen trees blocked my passage.  Then I slipped and slid down to the next storm drain, until I finally came out to a road.  And there up, above me, stood the two gigantic water towers high up on a hill.

Making My Way To the Towers

Following several mountain bikers onto the closed trail, I ran up slope thick with mud.  I quickly passed the bikers, as they had to walk their bikes the mud was so slick.  They caught up at the top as I snapped a couple pictures.  Then I watched as they flew down Five Oaks Trail.  I followed behind, taking my time down that steep trail.  My mind was blank.

Five Oaks Trail From Top To Bottom

When I hit Wood Canyon, my run pretty much dragged on.  And I actually felt some anxiety approaching Mathis Trail.  But I ran up it, no problem.  I’m not saying that I took it like a bullet or even ran my fastest pace.  I’m just saying that I ran it peacefully, without stress, enjoying the scenery. 

Flowers Along Mathis Trail

Relief hit when I made it to Top of the World, because that meant I WAS GOING HOME.  Today wasn’t a good day for a run that’s all I can say.  But I did it.  I just didn’t have the umph to push.  And I would have much rather spent the day in bed sleeping.  I should track Day Light Saving Time changes and see if the days are usually this draggy for me.   I can’t deny though, that the my views on this run were a great pleasure to take in.  They weren’t enough to pull me from a gloomy mood though.

From Park Ave. Nature Trail

Mustard Seed Plants Along West Ridge Trail

Miles logged today:  8 miles

Elevation Profile:  +1,589

Do You Do This?

Do you have this sickness?  I must  feel organized, clean everything, even the toilets before I can start on my projects (reading or writing novels, looking for an agent, etc).  I call it a sickness, because it’s a never-ending battle with me. I NEVER feel organized.  Yet, people tell me that I’m the most organized person they know.

I feel happy when I throw away bags of trash.  I feel relieved when I load up the truck with boxes of things to drop at the thrift store.  Clutter.  It actually weighs upon my soul.

Well, on the good side.  I cleaned and organized one more corner of my chaotic, looks-like-a-tornado-hit office today.  That is after 2 hours at the gym, then back home, making breakfasts, then scrubbing the bathroom floors, throwing out old files, washing and folding, and folding and folding clothes . . .

One More Office Corner Organized

 

And then all this organization and cleaning stuff seems so idiotic and unimportant when I think that it can crumble or be washed away in an instant!  Those poor people in Japan.  Their devastation is just too much to take all in.

Time To Run Again

I rested Sunday.   Monday I visited the gym and cycled for 17+ miles, did some core work.  Wanting to gradually get back into it, I rested again Tuesday, then back to the gym I went on Wednesday for about 6 miles on the elliptical, weight training and more core work. 

Today, came the day to run again.  Due to time constraints I ran this 9.5 mile loop at Aliso Wood Canyons, the one I’ve been timing lately:

I felt fatigued early on and thought maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.  The weather was quite hot and the wind blew at my face.  Thankfully, the wind was cool.  But it was still the kind that chaps your skin.  I hit Meadows Trail a couple minutes late.  But then as I began running that climb, I felt amazed at my strength.  Still, that sun blared down and the wind continued to blow at my face.  Nearing the top, I glanced at the garmin to see that I still ran a couple minutes behind.

I kicked it up some heading toward the trail marker at the top.  Grass grew waist high in the meadows at my side.  And then, as my feet pounded harder toward that trail marker, I glanced down.  There was something stretched across the trail, something as long as my arm span. 

I didn’t really think the following, I more like felt it in my mind in the SPLIT SECOND that it occurred.  Is that a snake?  Why, yes it is?  A rattler?  Becoming disoriented, I couldn’t quite figure which was his tail end as I searched for rattles, when suddenly my mind felt, remember, not thought, “Why the hell are you looking for rattles?”

At that instant, the same instant that the snake coiled up, I ran backward as fast as I could.  Faster than I would have imagined I had the energy to run (and backward to boot!)  I didn’t not stop until I was probably five times his striking distance.  That snake had whipped itself into a coil so amazingly fast, I’m very fortunate that I backed off not a second later. 

He stayed like that in the middle of the trail, his head high, poised to strike.  His rattle was unbelievably loud.  I took a couple steps closer (still safely far away) to snap a picture.  Then I phoned my husband, because I just had to tell someone about this amazing sight.  He could hear the snake’s rattles over the phone!

Well, that dang snake stayed there for quite some time.  There was no way to run past it, except to run through the grass.  And last thing I wanted was a tick latching on.  And so I waited.  And I waited, until I eventually called off my “timed” run.  Several minutes later, my rattling friend uncoiled and slithered off into the grass.  I ran past when I could still see his tail.  I wanted to be absolutely sure I could still see his tail when I finally made my trip to the ridge.  I wanted to be sure he didn’t turn around coil up, and wait there for me.

The Snake I Almost Stepped On About To Slither Off Into The Meadow

Well, let me tell you!  That little event sure awakened me.  Though this was no longer a timed run (it shouldn’t have been anyway, I should have planned a nice and easy recovery run), I couldn’t have felt more alive and excited after the ordeal.  I ran along the ridge feeling elated.  I ran all the way back in, joyfully, full of the running spirit that I sometimes lose, and reassured that rattler season is here, and that I should never stop looking.

Miles logged today:  9.5

Moments After Running Past The Snake

Big Baz San Juan 50k–Finisher : )

I could certainly write a book about this race.  But I’ll try to keep it brief (ha!)  First off, I’m so dang happy that I finished.  This is one tough, tough, course.

My main goals were to stay uninjured and to finish.  I kept my pace a little slower than the past Big Baz races.  And I followed my husband’s advice which was “don’t think” because that’s when I lose the mental battle.  And I followed runner Chris Diaz’s advice:  think of this race as two different races – run the first one (the hilly out and back down to the highway 19.5 miles) and don’t even think about the second race until I’m there!

Baz’s Race Instructions

That first ten miles were wonderful – cool and shady.  I crossed several streams rock hopping to keep my feet dry.  Then finally toward the bottom, I had to walk through nearly knee deep COLD water, which meant that I had to walk through it again on the way back – which in turn also meant that I didn’t care anymore about wet feet and stomped through most streams if I had to spend too much time finding a route.

The frontrunner passed me on my mile 7.   The second place passed me at 7.3 miles.  They were SIX miles ahead of me.  A little later, Michelle Barton (an amazing runner, IN MY AGE CATEGORY) passed me on this out-and-back portion at mile 7.83.  She yelled out to me, “You’re a rockstar.”  All those front runners were amazingly supportive.  One of the things I love about trail runners – they are not snobs.

I took plenty of pictures in those first ten miles.  I was trying to remain cool, that is calm – I didn’t want to lose my head.  No negativity.  No I can’t’s

Amazing Beauty During the First Ten Miles (which happens to be the 2nd ten miles also)

Sadly one runner broke his wrist on that first ten miles.  And as far as I know, 4 runners dropped out on that segment.   I reached that first full aid station at ten miles (there was a “water only” at mile 5) feeling very strong.  About 8 other runners mingled about.  Almost every one was bloody or cut up in some way.  I felt lucky for catching myself on a few trips.

A few of us were gently scolded for not drinking enough water.  When one of the aid workers pulled out my reservoir, she said, “You’ve hardly drinken enough water!!”  Most of us said we didn’t need a refill, but Steve Harvey (from Old Goat Trail Races) said that none of us were taking off without full bladders.  And so I topped off, put some potato chips in my pocket, grabbed an orange slice and a quarter peanut-butter & jelly sandwich and took off. All my layers by now were off and packed in my bag.

Rick, Me And Lori at Ten Mile Mark

Miles ten through twenty were tough, mostly a climb out of the long ten mile mainly downhill I had just run.  I ran completely by myself.  I didn’t hear or see any of the runners that I left back at the aid station.  Trail races are like that.  A runner can actually be 30 seconds behind you, and you never see them. 

Eventually I saw a man up ahead.  The sun was scorching by now.  He was making his way, but seemed to be struggling some.  He was in sight several times for a while.  Though I wasn’t trying to pass him, because I wasn’t racing anyone (I only wanted to finish), I did gain on him.  And then . . . AND THEN I tripped on a rock as I ran.  I caught myself from falling, but my momentum ran me straight off the trail down a steep incline (almost a cliff!).  In a split second I knew that I had to change my direction or I was going to tumble (not in a fun way) down the mountain.  I am still amazed how many things go through my mind in a single moment.  Somehow, while falling down that mountain, I changed my direction and slammed myself into the face of the slope.  My right knee hit first, then my body cramped up.  With my body cramping, I began slowly sliding down the mountainside, through thickets with tiny thorns scraping along my arms. 

I was in utter disbelief and yelled out “Oh my God.  Oh my God.”  I don’t know why I said that.  Remember this all happed in a matter of probably 1 or 2 seconds.  Well, my yelling alerted the runner ahead of me.  He ran down and lifted me up and back onto the trail.  Bill was his name.  Definitely my hero of this race.  I had tiny hair like thorns covering my arms.  But I was okay.  Bill on the other hand had terrible bloody scrapes on his right arm and leg from his own accident some time earlier.  I thanked him profusely and told everyone I met about Bill and what he did for me, even in his pain.  

I continued on to the “water only” aid at mile 15, poured ice cold water over my arms.  I also gulped up some, but didn’t refill.  I didn’t refill, because my pack still felt pretty heavy.  I figured I had enough water to make it to mile 20. 

For the next 5 miles, I stopped twice to “ice” my torn up knee in the ice-cold streams.  I didn’t see Bill anymore.  But I did see another runner.  He passed me by out of no where.  I wish I would have got his name (I would be seeing him a lot the remainder of the race).  He was extremely friendly and helpful, offering Tylenol, calories, water.  I told him that I was good, then not 30 minutes later, I was OUT OF WATER.  The extra weight from my shirt, gloves and hat had fooled me into thinking that I had more water than I thought.  Mind you, this was the hottest day in months!.  I had 3 miles remaining to the next aid, and I needed water badly.  I tried to bring my energy level down some.  Last thing I wanted was heat exhaustion.  Those last 3 miles moved by extremely slow, as I practically stared at the garmim to see “how many miles before I get water.”

Before the next station, I passed my car and I took the time to throw all my layers in.  And guess what I saw???  A half a bottle of water!!!  Heaven.  I grabbed it, and guzzling it down made it on into the 19.5 mile aid station.  I met up with several other runners.  I later found that all those runners dropped.  Michelle Barton was snapping photos.  She was already finished with the race! 

I filled my pack with water and my water bottle as well, and took off for the “next race”.  The long climb up San Juan Trail was pretty difficult, especially with 8 or so other runners running down it to finish up the race.  I had another twelve miles or so to run!  Every single one of those runners were supportive with thumbs up or “way to go.” 

Trabuco Trail was extremely rocky for many miles.  I focused hard on not falling.  There were 2 other runners that I would continue to see for the last ten miles – a younger woman (Felicia) and that extremely supportive guy that I didn’t get his name!!

I fell off the log as I walked it to cross Trabuco stream, but wasn’t hurt.  And even though Horsethief was a matter of feet away, I refused to think about it.  As expected, Horsethief was pure hell.  It was hot and I took it slowly.  But I knew what lay ahead, and that helped.  Just put one foot in front of the other, I told myself.  When I caught up with Felicia, I felt badly for her, being that this was her first time of the trail.  She was where I was 2 weeks ago.  When she asked how much longer I felt sad telling her.  I looked at my watch and said, “about twenty-five minutes.”  She didn’t have a hat (just a visor) and couldn’t cool down.  Having suffered from heat exhaustion myself, I told her that she HAD to cool down.  She didn’t have anything to cover her head.  I suggested she pour some water on her head and find some shade and stay there until she cooled down.  Turned out there was a piece of shade right there.  She took my advice and I took off getting her name so I could tell the next aid to expect her.  She told me to tell them that she’s alright and that she wants to finish (And she did finish!).

A Rocky Trabuco Trail

Breathtaking Views Behind Me Going Up Horsethief

Anyway, when I reached the Main Divide, I met up with the helpful guy.  I refilled on water and we both took off with a mere six miles to go.  We pretty much ran in together, together meaning – I was in front, he was in front, back and forth, until he finally whizzed by me, gaining quite a bit of distance crossing the finish line probably a good 15 minutes before me (not sure, just guessing). 

I crossed the finish line exhilarated!  I was almost in disbelief – I had finished a 50k trail race!!  Awesome.  This is definitely a before/after point in my life. 

88 runners registered for the San Juan 50k.  86 started, 69 finished. 

Thanks to all – those on the trails and those on the blogs.  Couldn’t have done this without you and . . .

Can’t do this without a video

: )

Winding Down

As I approach this weekend’s race, I continue my wind down.  My husband thought I should rest two days before the 50k.  I compromised with a 1,500 yard swim and about thirty minutes of strength training today at the gym.  I relished every minute of it, in a melancholy sort of way.  Then I continued at home with floor exercises and foam rolling, foam rolling, foam rolling.  And oh ya, my cartwheel conditioning.   I won’t post the wheel barrels – there’s too much screaming, falling flat on my face (& laughing hysterically) involved.

Struggling To Hand Walk To The Wall, Stopped By The Frame (Oops!)

Youngest Son Crawls Up Wall Like It’s Nothing!

My expectations for Saturday’s 50k are much different from my last attempt at a 50k.  I went into my first 50k (Bulldog) during the hottest month of the year, INJURED, and with pretty much no doubt that I would finish.  I did not finish.  What took me out of that race was something that I NEVER expected – heat exhaustion.  I go into my 2nd attempt at a 50k without injury, during a cool weathered month and place my probability at finishing around 25%.  I’m not sad about that.  I’m just realistic.  Hubby says that he thinks I’m going to surprise myself.  I hope that I do.

And so tomorrow, I will grow quieter.  That’s what I do when a big race approaches.  I grow quieter until I no longer talk (and that’s not like me at all, to not talk, that is).  I will also I run errands:  turn in attendance, stop by the running store for more gels, buy the pre-race dinner (jasmine rice, teriyaki chicken with broccoli and chest nuts) and more foam rolling.  Hopefully, I will be in bed by 8:30, or 9:00 at the latest.

A big thanks from me to readers’ advice and encouragement!  You probably don’t realize how much you’ve helped.

Until next race report, another blast from the past : )  High school volleyball team.  I didn’t really have fun (as you can tell, I’m back row, far left)

Last Run Before The BIG Run

Weather and weather reports have messed with my running schedule.  As such I haven’t run since last Thursday.  I’ve been cross training at the gym, continuing with strengthening.  But will it be enough to endure nearly 32 miles and 6,000 ft elevation gain this weekend?  I don’t know.  To tell you the truth, I don’t really care.  What I mean is, I’ve been working at getting stronger.  I don’t have all the time in the world to do it.  With 3 boys, a husband and a job, I’ve almost done the best I can.  Best of all, I’ve done it uninjured! 

Thus, I decided to run my 9.5 mile timed-loop as my last run before the BIG run.  The wind blew nice and cool, perfect running weather.  And even though my shoe (left shoe!) I again tied too tightly, I didn’t stop to re-tie. 

Applying the same rules running up Meadows Trail (don’t look forward, don’t look back, stay in the moment), I didn’t feel as anxious about the climb.  But I didn’t make it to the top of Meadows any faster.  I must say that the breeze running up that thing was heaven sent.  I also recovered pretty quickly.  But soon after, I began to peter-out and began to doubt my ability to pick up speed later.  I shouldn’t doubt, because after bringing the pace down on the climb up to Top of the World, I was back again.

But then, while running through Top of the World, my head started pounding.  I thought perhaps I was dehydrated, so I drank up, concentrating on my breathing as I tried to pick up my speed.  At one point, gardeners had their appliances scattered about the sidewalk.  Advancing, I calculated adding more seconds to my run by running out into the street, around the cars then back onto the sidewalk.  I declined those few seconds and ran right through the strewn about equipment, leaping over weed whackers and such.  One of the gardeners looked at me like I was crazy.  I was.  I mean, I am.

The headache did not cease even with an increase of liquids, so I took two ibuprofen on the run.  Then some time on West Ridge Trail, I either forgot about the headache, or it went away.  When I rounded Cholla Trail 6 minutes to spare before two hours, I knew in my heart chances were slim that I would break my record, much less make my record.  I changed my strategy running down Cholla Trail.  Rather than just powering down it with long strides, leaping from side to side at times, I took tiny steps, extremely fast tiny steps.  I made it to the bottom of Cholla in a little over two minutes!!

I crossed the finish line at 2:04:18, not exactly happy, but certainly not disappointed.  No matter what, it’s still quite a ride!

Before                                                    After

Running the Ridge after Meadows on my way to Top of the World

+1,351 / –1,357