I ended a chillin’ week by “leading” this month’s New Member run for The OCTR (Orange County Trail Runners). I put “leading” in quotes because I didn’t really lead it. I more liked organized it and then showed up. The runners who attended were much too fast for me to “lead.” Fortunately, my good running friend, Michael, showed. He took it easy and kept me company as we covered some of the cool trails, of you guessed it, Aliso/Wood Canyons.
I’m taking a break, but I haven’t stopped running trails. For now, I’m going for the short runs (short being less than 10 miles). No big adventures planned for the immediate future. The past couple months I had been contemplating a 50k for December. That’s off the table now. November, I’m chillin’ and having some fun on the run. December, I’ll kick it up a notch for Calico in January. For now, I have some re-evaluating and resting up to do.
Greetings on a warm November morning at Top of the World:
I’ve written often about my feet. Obviously, feet are extremely important to me : ). Recently, I wrote much about my Plantar Fasciitis bout. But even more recently, I’ve mentioned something called a neuroma. And I don’t think I’ve ever gone into what’s up with that (though my friends and family know something about it!).
A neuroma is when one of my foot nerves rubs against my toe bones. It hurts. An old neuroma hurts more than a newer one. It’s a burning feeling, literally like my second and third toes are on fire. It also tingles, as if a thousand tiny needles are poking into my toes.
Ten years ago, the neuroma in my left foot was so painful, I had to quit exercising. I wasn’t a runner then but I was still active. I received cortisone shots that left me unable to even walk well for a week. The shots helped some after the initial week. My doctors however, would only give me 3 shots a year. I got custom made orthotics that did nothing to relieve the pain.
Finally, I had that nerve in my left foot surgically removed. Recovery was extremely slow. For YEARS my “surgery” foot just didn’t feel right. By the time my surgery foot finally felt normal, I was a runner. Meanwhile, the neuroma in my right foot began to worsen. I flat out declined cortisone shots and surgery. I had more orthotics made, that again did nothing to relieve the pain. Meditation worked for a while. Massaging never worked. Then one day, my husband mentioned that I should stop by a “foot” store up the street called “The Good Feet Store.” I was about to run my very first race, a 5k turkey trot. I was pretty desperate to relieve the pain. So into the store I went. Three hundred dollars later, I had an extreme pair of non-custom orthotics. For many years these orthotics have been my saving grace. But now and then, especially when I’m carrying extra weight, the pain returns. I merely run through it. I just can’t put myself through the surgery again, nor do I want the cortisone shots.
Today, I got out for a short run, and didn’t feel even an inkling of neuroma pain. It comes and goes like that. And so I will continue to deal with it, try to drop some pounds and enjoy the beautiful trails with a nerve rubbing against my toe bones.
Well, things have not been going as planned. Goals have not been met. I’ve been sleeping a lot. I mean A LOT. The day before the Saddleback Marathon in fact, after disturbing dreams, I woke at 6:00 AM, got the boys off to school. Then when I arrived home at 8:30, I went promptly back to sleep and didn’t wake until noon. I fought against a nap all afternoon. I was sound asleep by 9 PM. One would have thought I would have been good and strong for Saturday’s race. I thought so. I left the home at 6:00 AM Saturday, anxiety-free, feeling rested. I drank 2 cups of coffee and also about 16 ounces of carrot juice for breakfast (this is standard for me).
The 24th year of the Saddleback Marathon was festive. I relished the atmosphere of 75 runners prepping for a run through the Saddleback Mountains. I did my usual 45 minute walk-about to warm up. And while walking along the road, a car pulled over, the window rolled down and a man with a British-like accent said “You don’t know me, but I read your blog. You’re Lauren, right?” He said that he’d only been in the states for a couple of weeks and found a lot of these trails largely because of this blog. Wow. He was so kind to stop and compliment me, a stranger like that. I felt pretty good.
My only concern was not beating or even making last year’s time. But I felt that I would do okay. This race is run on “my” trails after all. I’ve run them again and again.
The start caught me off-guard with my vest half-way on. A friendly runner whom I see at almost every race, helped me get it untangled and on as we ran from the start. The crowd took off ahead of me which is normal. Plus I always line-up at the back. I wasn’t even that concerned that my energy seemed minimal at first. I’m often a stronger finisher than I am starter.
The first 3 miles, which were most mainly uphill were unreasonably tough for me. Surprised, I still didn’t worry too much because Trabuco Trail lay ahead. I knew that I would gain some of the time that I lost.
I flew down Trabuco with a top pace of 8:14 (according to my garmin). I didn’t waste any time taking photos, though I filmed a little, and I passed three runners.
Then something happened on the way up Holy Jim. My foot had been bothering me for a while. But my neuroma foot has been bothering me a lot lately, and I’ve been able to run through the pain (history on that in another entry). The weather grew warm as I made the climb. I didn’t layer for this race. I figured that I’d just roll up my sleeves. But the thing was, I also didn’t re-fill fluids at the end of Trabuco. With fluids running low, my body over heating and my foot aching, my energy seemed to seep out of me not like a leaking balloon – more like a pin stuck to a balloon. My energy popped. I felt nauseated. And at times I felt a little lightheaded. I even staggered here and there up that giant switch back.
Then my fight with the demons began. The battle that raged on in my head got so intense I ended up crying. No. Not just crying. I was bawling while running, while running up hill. As you can imagine, breathing became very difficult, and I nearly hyper-ventilated. I probably would of, had two cyclists not just turned the bend. I didn’t want them to try and help me or have any concern over me, so I immediately sucked it up.
By the time other runners passed me, I had pulled myself together on the outside. I told the last woman who passed me that I was out. I was going to DNF. I think I told her before I “officially” told myself. From that point onward, the climb up Holy Jim was pure hell. It took everything I had not to sit down and rest. Saturday, that trail certainly earned its other names for me: Holy Crap and Holy Cow.
I probably could have finished the race. But why? My foot ached, I felt light headed, nauseated and was losing my balance. I can’t even go into the brutal war that was raging on in my head. I didn’t see any reason to put myself through the misery any longer.
A long time ago, after my other DNF, I told myself that if I ever DNF’d again, I would do it with dignity. I did my crying in private. And once the tears dried, I didn’t cry again. I was gracious, and oh so thankful for the aid workers when I finally reached them. I even offered to help, though they insisted that I rest. Most importantly, I made dang sure that my drop was recorded so that no one would have to go searching for me in the mountains.
This would have been a perfect DNF with dignity had I not done one thing. When the aid workers drove past my truck, I had them let me out there. I did not go back to the Start/Finish line to congratulate and bid farewell to friends. I regret that. If there’s a next time, and there will probably be, I will not omit the last step. If I will perfect anything, I will perfect the DNF. LOL.
Despite defeat, I still love trail running.
This is how far I got, and though I didn’t get any photos, I did take some video. And if you know me, you know I made a DNF video (below).
I got a late start this morning for my one and only training run for The Saddleback Marathon. I actually started my run at 9:00 AM. I rarely start mountain runs that late. But it’s autumn now, so the weather was nice and cool. I even wore long sleeves and ran the heater on the drive to Trabuco Canyon.
Planning runs, I forget to count prep time at my truck – this morning it took me ten plus minutes prepping before I took off up the mountain:
It’s deer season in California. So, I was sure to wear clothing the colors not usually found in nature. I don’t want to be mistaken for a deer this time of year. I should have worn a bright orange shirt – but I don’t own one. I saw two male hunters hiking into the canyon (separately), both in camouflage (but one also wore an orange vest). Both carried their rifles with a sling over their shoulder, with the barrels pointed upward. Both also, though youngish men (younger than me), wore their heads shaven clean.
I ran up Holy Jim, reminiscing about Twin Peaks, or rather trying to reminisce. I don’t recall much now of running up Holy Jim. I know today the trail was a lot more crowded with hikers and mountain bikers. I timed myself going up, but that went out the window when my spouse left a phone message and started texting me. I forgot to leave a note where I was running today. This halted my run up Holy Jim because I was afraid to keep moving forward, lest I lose my cell connection. The other problem was that I couldn’t READ MY PHONE! Why? Because I can’t see close up or tiny things without my glasses. So, I texted HJ. And hubby brainstormed my oldest son to find out that HJ meant Holy Jim. (I was so proud of my son : )
Heading up Holy Jim:
Just before reaching The Main Divide, I heard a gunshot. Just one. My time was not good when I finally reached the divide. I turned right and continued running without stopping. More trucks than usual drove along the divide. A few motorcyclists did as well. I made the next junction (Indian Truck Trail) in good time, actually ten minutes faster than usual.
View of Riverside county from the divide:
This is what much of running the divide is like, but this is section less hilly and less rocky than other parts:
I made it to a secret water stash just in time. After refilling my pack I heard talking and laughing. I didn’t want to exit the hiding spot, so I remained hiding in the bushes. I waited and I waited. I didn’t want to expose the water spot by exiting just as they went by. Then again, they might have been runners who knew about the spot. I waited and waited some more. Thing was, I needed to pee. And I could not, would not pee anywhere a secret water stash. So, I finally pushed through the bushes, and ran up the trail to find four hikers taking photos of themselves. I came “out of nowhere” to them. And they were just about in the spot where I had decided to duck into the bushes to do my business. (I’m just telling it how it is : ) I took a picture of their group with their camera before taking off along the divide to find another sufficient “spot.”
Anyway, the gnats flew about my face as I ran toward Trabuco Trail. My timing wasn’t too bad. What was bad was my trip down Trabuco. This trail is one of the most beautiful trails I know. It’s also very rocky, and I tend to run it fearfully, which is not good for my time. There was a day when I ran down Trabuco much quicker. But with my falls over the past couple years, I’ve grown timid.
Trabuco Trail:
I think I’ll save my quicker running down Trabuco for this Saturday’s race. Overall, I ran to my truck at a slower speed than expected. But overall, I enjoyed my training run. I love these mountains.
Today, I had enough time to run “The Big Loop” in Aliso/Wood Canyons. I call it “The Big Loop” because it’s basically the biggest single loop one can run in the park. Actually, it’s not exactly a loop, it’s more a lollipop loop.
Well . . . kind of a funny looking lollipop:
Clockwise, “The Big Loop” has a climb that is short and steep. It’s pretty brutal, travelling UP Mentally Sensitive (aka Psycho Path) to the ridge. Counter-clockwise, “The Big Loop’s” climb is long and gradual. I prefer to go for the excruciating, but over somewhat quickly, than a constant, long gradual uphill.
The Big Loop was a joy today. I came practically face-to-face with a deer. The meeting was a tad scary. Though they’re not predators, this one could have easily knocked me down and kicked out some teeth.
The weather again was cool and crisp. I simply adore autumn. I do believe it has the perfect running weather here in Southern (coastal) California.
I’ll make this quick and end this entry with some scenes from today. The next couple days are long work days for me, I’ve got to get to bed. Fortunately, I got this wonderful run in today.
I love not training! I got out on the trails this morning and I did not think about negative splits, pace or how I need to improve. I merely had a set number of hours that I got to “play” in the wilderness.
I took off on Aliso Creek Trail with the creek to my left flowing heavier than usual. My calves started off stiff on this partially paved trail. I stopped about 3/4’s of a mile in to stretch. Onward I ran toward Wood Canyon, never to feel that stiffness in my calves the remainder of today’s run. The skies were deep blue with white puffy clouds. The weather was perfectly cool. I barely grew warm enough to roll up the sleeves of my new Twin Peaks shirt.
With no route planned today, I ran an old favorite, Cave Rock Trail. I noticed an amazingly blue bird flutter in the leaves. And then a reddish-brown hawk flew above. But I couldn’t get my camera out quick enough for a picture. So, I merely got back into the moment and kicked into a grove on the downhill back into Wood Canyon.
Cave Rock dumped me out back onto Wood Canyon Trail. I startled a female runner when I popped out onto the trail. It’s easy to miss Cave Rock. Even when you notice the trail, you aren’t apt to take it. From appearances it doesn’t look like much of a trail, more like a little trip around a big rock. Runners can’t see that the rock goes on and on. It took me a few years to finally run it.
From Wood Canyon, I made one creek crossing, then took Mathis Trail. But I didn’t take that sharp incline to the ridge. Instead, I ran another little unknown trail called Nature Loop. It’s a magical single-track, ridgeline trail with tremendous views of all the main thoroughfares. Nature Loop is one of those trails where you can see everything, but no one can see you.
Creek Crossing on Mathis Trail:
Nature Loop: Going up . . .
Nature Loop (perhaps the best kept secret in the park) dumps out onto Coyote Run Trail. I love Coyote Run, but sometimes it bores me with its length. This is where Nature Loop helps. It cuts off about half of Coyote Run.
I saw my second person on the trails today on Coyote Run – he was a mountain biker. We approached head-on. I moved to the right. He did the same. I love it when it all works!
Coyote Run:
Coyote Run dumps back out onto Wood Canyon Trail. I didn’t see any other person and enjoyed running the canyon to its end. Then I ran up Cholla Trail to West Ridge. I picked up my speed on West Ridge, so happy to finally run trails for the sake of running trails. Lovely!
I didn’t summit today. Why? Because I didn’t want to. No, not really. I didn’t have the time. Instead, I blasted down Mathis, to make this an 11 mile run and get back in time to stretch and drive home in time to shower and dress for work.
I love runs like these.
A quick stop on West Ridge to “point out” Saddleback Mountains:
Elevation profile: I opted for a gradual climb to the ridge. Really . . . I’m serious:
