Going for the Final Push

Today’s run marks the first in the final push of my Twin Peaks training.  I’ve got 2 weeks of hard running (72 mile weeks) and then it’s time to take it easy for a couple weeks.  Of course, I’ve been struggling still over whether I even want to show up for the race.  For now, I’m pushing my fears to the back of my mind, and I’m going to do the best to get these 144 miles done before The Taper. 

Today, we were actually socked-in with cool, heavy-wet skies.  I took a straight shot up Cholla Trail to the ridge at Aliso/Wood Canyons, and ran to the Top of the World.  Looking down into the town of Laguna Beach, the ocean was no where to be seen beneath those low, fast moving clouds.  Though I didn’t make my fastest time for this route, I was only about 7 minutes shy.  And I hit the 8 minute pace level on several occasions on the trail’s down hills.  A fun, wet run indeed. 

Top of Cholla Trail @ West Ridge:

A eerily beautiful, lonely trail ahead:

Today’s out-and-back to Top of the World:

Twin Peaks Training Run #1

My training plan for today dictated ten miles.  But today was the first official Twin Peaks Training Run.  With all my negative self-talk, doubt and plain ole’ exhaustion from the heat, I had to make this run.  I wanted to meet some of the runners, and I wanted to run the one trail of this ultra that I have not trained on – Indian Truck Trail.  The trail is the first 6.5 miles of the race, and the last 6.5 miles of the race.  I have never run up it in its entirety, mainly because it begins in Corona (which is on the other side of the mountain from me). 

The runners who showed had the choice between 3 routes, each a part of the other.  I chose the shortest, as I mentioned above, the Indian Truck Trail out-and-back.  (We didn’t began at the actual start line, so it was a little over 7 miles each way).  I knew three of the runners and the race director, Jessica, but the others were new faces to me.  I always find it intriguing to meet others who want to attempt something that I think is more than crazy!  It doesn’t make me feel less crazy.  It makes me smile that they too are crazy.  We crazies come in all types.  One of the women chose to run the shorter 14 mile portion, and I was lucky that we are about the same pace.   It will be good to see her again on race day.

The first 6.5 mile climb has been worrying me about the race.  Today, it has put my mind at ease.  This is definitely not going to be a portion of the race that causes me problems – that is of course unless I go out too fast, or something unforeseen happens.  The trail is wide, nicely graded with very few rocks.  The views are green and grand.

Heading up:

Besides meeting friends and meeting trail runners I haven’t met before, one of the best parts of today was . . . wait for it . . . NO. GNATS.  Yes, that’s right.  Not a single one.  And I am oh, so hopeful that they are gone for good.  The heat though was still present in abundance.  I’m not sure, but I think it’s hotter on the Riverside side of the mountain compared to the side facing the ocean (“my side.”) 

On the way down Indian Truck Trail I got to really “open up” and run faster than I usually do because the trail has little or no hazards.  I’m used to working with boulders, roots, you name it.  Makes me wish I had put more training on this trail before now. 

Top of Indian Truck Trail at The Main Divide:

I had been feeling very weak and unconfident before today’s training run.  I still feel weak and lack confidence.  The thing that has changed is this:  It doesn’t matter.  I’m still gonna try.  And if I can’t finish, well, then, I’ll have that experience, which isn’t that terrible of an experience after all. 

Going down:

Indian Truck Trail’s Elevation Profile:

Guilt-Free Running

After dropping the boys off at school this morning (two different schools and times) I set off for Aliso/Wood Canyons for a mid-morning run.  I elected the “Big Loop” (up Mentally Sensitive, down Cholla) for a 13.5 mile run.  The place was practically empty.  Everything was as it should be:  day camp kids were gone, tennis players were out in limited numbers at Top of the World.  The few mountain bikers present were courteous and yielded to the runner (me).   Yes, the sun was still dang hot.  But I got a cool breeze in my face here and there.  Best thing of all – I ran this morning’s trails GUILT-FREE.  The boys didn’t even know I was running.  I was at home when they woke, which is important to them.  And I was going to be the first face they’d see when school was finished.  I didn’t hear things like, “You’re never here in the morning.”  I didn’t realize how badly I felt all summer, guilt-ridden over not being home when the boys woke.  I guess I have some guilt issues to deal with.

I felt so free during this morning’s run, that the heat barely bothered me.  That is until I got home, my energy zapped.  Overall, today’s run was fantastic.  I’m slower than usual, but I came in stronger than I have in a long, long time.  I even had lots of time to stretch in the shade.  Oh, the glory.

On Meadows Trail headed for Mentally Sensitive:

Running (yes, running – yay!) up Mentally Sensitive:

Running the ridge toward Top of the World:

Presenting the Pacific Ocean from Top of the World:

Wood Creek Trail – I love this stuff:

More Wood Creek Trail:

This morning’s elevation profile:

Labor Day Run

Labor Day has always marked the end of summer for us, even though it’s not the official end of summer.  This day has always been the last holiday before school resumes.  The boys go back to school on Wednesday.  (I go back to work somewhere around then, depending on enrollment numbers).  So, I suppose I can call today’s run the last run of summer.  (Therefore, HEAT – go away!!)

Turns out that oh, a few hundred mountain bikers decided to take their last ride of the summer at the same place I chose for my last run – Aliso/Wood Canyons.  I started off strong (though slowly) and chose to zig-zag my way through the wilderness, going up the hardest trail first:  Mentally Sensitive.  I didn’t mind so much running Meadows to get there, jumping out of the way for mountain bikers every few minutes or so. 

No one else dared going up or down Mentally Sensitive on this sunny, hot, last-day-of-summer Labor Day.  I had a enjoyable hard time of it myself.  Toward the top, I opted on some bushwhacking for a trip into a local park.  I came across a few other female runners in the park.  They looked so nice and fresh with matching attire and shoes, whereas, dirt already caked my legs and clothing.  I’m making up for all the dirt I didn’t play around in as a young girl. 

I took a quick run down Meadows back to Wood Canyon, completely annoyed by the twenty or so mountain bikers FLYING down that steep switch-back.  Now, I don’t want to complain too much about mountain bikers.  When I run in the mountains, I only meet polite riders.  And in the coastal hills, I’ve met many wonderful cyclists.  But today, the numbers were just too great, which meant those riders that ride as fast as they can inches away from hikers and runners, were out in greater numbers.  Each time they flew by me, they left a spray of dirt in my face.  Not fun, especially with temperatures rising.

Meadows Trail (going down):

Back in the canyon, I opted for trails where I rarely see mountain bikers.  Cave Rock for example, does not even allow bikes.  I did notice a multitude of tire tread prints, but enjoyed the trail alone.

Cave Rock:

Back in the canyon, I ran onto Dripping Cave.  A group of 50 or so hikers made their way out as I ran in.  I skipped the cave, as heat was increasing and I wanted to get as many miles in as possible.  I got to pass a few mountain bikers who stopped to walk their bikes up the inclines of Dripping Cave.  We all thoroughly enjoyed the shady downhill to Mathis Trail. 

Dripping Cave Trail:

I ran up Mathis, the merciless trail toward the ridge with absolutely no shade.  I met several pleasant cyclists and hikers struggling their way up as well.  Those riding down left so much dirt in their wake that my mood began to waiver.  I made West Ridge in one piece, but wanted to toss a handful of dirt at the cyclists as they rode down.  I just wanted them to experience a fine mist of dirt thrown in their face while riding.  Perhaps they didn’t know.  I mean, would they ride so quickly down, so closely to other people, spraying dirt into runners’/hikers’ faces if they knew?  I resolved to think they didn’t know, but decided not to throw dirt in their faces.

Good thing I didn’t act so severely, because I would have felt very badly when I ran toward Top of the World, past a fire truck on a rescue (probably a mountain biker).  And then later as I ran along West Ridge, I stood with a group of bikers and hikers as we all watched a helicopter attempt to land for another rescue.  We couldn’t see the hurt individual, the trails the helicopter hovered told me, the wounded had to be a biker.

Top of the World:

With a full pack after refilling at Top of the World, I ran along West Ridge with dread over the heat I’d encounter for the remaining run (as I was running away from the ranger station at this point).  I felt extremely over-heated and the thought of running back down through the canyons for FIVE miles did not appeal to me.  When I reached the end of West Ridge, I had all intentions of running back down into the canyon.  But then I did something that I have never done.  No.  I didn’t phone my husband to come pick me up.  I’ve done that before.  I ran straight out of the park into the suburbs. 

I simply couldn’t take running through that oven of a canyon full of speeding mountain bikers and opted for the streets instead.  Yes, I willingly chose road running over trails – road running with shaded sidewalks and slight breezes, no dirt in the face.  I wasn’t even exactly sure how to make it back to the ranger station using streets, but I had a notion. 

I made it back just fine.  And it turns out that my detour out of the wilderness ended up being the EXACT same mileage as if I were to have run back through the canyons – five miles, making today’s last-day-of-summer, Labor Day run 16 miles long.

Leaving the wilderness for a street run:

The Profile:

Off Plan (Again)

How much do runners adhere to their training plans?  I actually have no idea.  I have never followed a training plan before now.  And I’m finding it very difficult to follow it precisely.  Life gets in the way.  And sometimes it (life) drags me down so much that I wake up  in the morning just too dang tired to follow the plan.  That’s what I did this morning.  Woke at 5 AM, walked out to the living room and lay back down.  I knew that I couldn’t sleep in too much longer because today was my scheduled long run. 

But I just couldn’t do it.  I could not get myself up before everyone else in the house, and disappear for 7 hours.  It would have probably done me good, helped to free my mind.  But fatigue was too much this morning.  So, I moved things around in my brain-calendar, came up with a better plan of postponing my long run and running a shorter run this afternoon, then fell back asleep.  Eventually my boys kicked me out of the living room and I went back to my bed.  My comfy, comfy bed.

My feet finally hit dirt at 2:30 PM in Aliso/Wood Canyons.  And of course the trails were a scorcher this afternoon.  I was pretty dang miserable and the thought crossed my mind on many occasions to turn back and go home.  But I’m a loopy girl, don’t really get into running out-and-back courses.  There’s got to be a special reason for me to run an out-and-back course.  Misery just isn’t a good enough reason. 

So, I ran up Wood Canyon and Cholla Trail to the ridge.  I spotted a coyote along the way eating something in the grass.  Several hikers mingled about the canyon, mountain bikers rode up and down it.  Reaching the ridge took a great deal of my fleeting strength.  It was pretty lonely up there.  Lonely and lovely. 

I connected the loop with Car Wreck Trail, an old favorite that I don’t hit often.  I looked forward to the shade at the end of this trail.  What I got were two doe standing in the middle of the trail.  They stood close together as I skidded to a stop.  It had not yet registered in my brain what I was seeing.  I had only gotten to “tall animal, tan fur.”  Then we made eye contact.  I snapped a picture, and they were off speeding through the forest to almost instantly disappear. 

Ended up with 10.54 very slow and difficult miles today.  And I have to say, perhaps someone can relate – I enjoyed the misery of it.  I really did.

West Ridge:

Car Wreck Trail:

Elevation Profile:

Back to the Mountains

Day two of “hard” week (Wednesday) rolled around and I rolled myself out of bed.  I felt sore from head to toe, particularly my quads and my arms.  Looking back, I could have probably gotten through the scheduled run, or at least part of it.  I felt more than anything that I really needed a day of recovery.  So, I allowed myself the day off, on the condition that I wouldn’t beat myself up all day for missing the run.  In order to accomplish that, I cleaned house big time, worked on laundry, read and napped.

Wednesday was supposed to be 14 miles and Thursday was scheduled for ten.  I flip-flopped that so that I would not run too much behind, and set off for 14 miles in the Saddleback Mountains this morning (Thursday A.M.)

It was still dark as I sat in my truck in my driveway.  The only reason I didn’t change plans and head for a coastal hills run was because I was too lazy to turn off the car, open up the house and tip-toe in to change the note I left my husband.  (I leave him a note with the trails I’ll be running in case something happens.  And I don’t stray from my note.)

Last night I looked forward to the time alone in the mountains today.  But the closer I got to the mountains, the more I fretted their difficulty.  The Holy Jim parking lot was empty when I took off running up Trabuco Trail.  The sun had risen and the gnats soon discovered me running alone through the canyon.

A quick shot before taking off up Trabuco Trail:

One of the cabins along the trail:

Quickly into this run the gnats swarmed around my head.  Now, I’m usually one to tell people, “You need to accept the gnats.  Then it will be better.”  I usually run pretty carefree through the creatures, especially now that I breathe through my nose.  This morning however, they swarmed my head like I was their hive.  They flew up my nose.  They landed on my eyeballs.    They psyched me out so much, I lost my groove.  I looked to the ground too much, and somehow tweaked my knee along the way. 

I felt like from afar you couldn’t see my head.  All you could see was a swarm of these tiny gnats buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.  I wanted to plop to the dirt and cry.  Seriously.  But to do that would mean remaining with the gnats.  I needed to get up West Horse Thief a bit before they left me, that much I figured.

Me and the gnats on Trabuco Trail:

Needless to say, those dang gnats didn’t get me to West Horse Thief any quicker.  In fact, they sucked the time right out of me.  They pretty much sucked everything out of me.  I didn’t look forward to my run anymore.  I even thought about turning around on Trabuco and heading back to the truck.  But, that would mean that I’d have to run through more gnats.  I wasn’t looking forward much to climbing West Horse Thief either.  However, I managed to run onward, slowly albeit, but run nonetheless. 

The beginning’s of West Horse Thief:

Climbing West Horse Thief WAS A BEAR, though beautiful it was:

Almost to the top, AND FEELING IT:

No matter how tortuous the climb is, reaching the top of West Horse Thief is always divine:

I ran the Main Divide feeling glorious.  The gnats forgot about me for several miles.  I didn’t see a single other person for a long time.  Finally, I spotted a cyclist off in the distance.  As we approached each other I was surprised to see that this lone rider was a woman!  A half mile or so later, I saw another cyclist (perhaps her boyfriend or husband), struggling to keep up with the lady.  Later, a dirt biker passed me as I grinded the dirt toward Holy Jim Trail.

I ran that five miles down Holy Jim eager to get back.  Eleven other hikers made their way up in various groups.  It was a lovely trip for me (hopefully for them too, but their faces revealed a great struggle).  Though lovely, it was a long, long trip.  And I’m oh, so glad I made it – gnats and all (and they were sure to greet me toward the bottom of Holy Jim)