Metrics Smetrics

In the U.S., unless you participate in a sport like running, cycling or swimming, you talk and think in miles. Yes, we are probably the only country in the world that hasn’t switched to the metric system. And chances are we probably never will (except for in running, cycling and swimming). We are that stubborn.  Wait, I take that back, I think some screwdrivers are measured in metrics, as are pencil leads. ANYWAY, when talking with my non-running friends and family, they don’t give a dang whether I say 30 kilometers or 30 miles. To them, 30 KILOMETERS IS 30 MILES – and that’s that. I used to correct my friends, “No, it was 50 kilometers, NOT 50 miles.” But that did no good.  “I can’t believe you ran 50 miles!!!”

When I tell someone I ran 50 kilometers, they will forever think that I ran 50 miles. In fact, just this past weekend, we had a little party for my son’s birthday. My sister-in-law, who is a runner and understands distance in kilometers, asked me about the Calico race (a 30k). I told her about it, trying to make the stories as humorous as possible. I got some good laughs. Others in the room (including my husband, who is a bright man) went on about the fact that I ran 30 MILES. I did not correct them. Why? Because I have finally realized why my non-running family and friends refuse to acknowledge the kilometer in my running distances – it is due to the fact that 30k (or approximately 19 miles) is the same as 30 miles to a non-runner. They are not stupid. To them, it’s merely, “19 . . . 30, what’s the difference?  Both are hard as hell.”  And they are right.

This morning I ran 13.23 trail miles (or 21.29 km).  The weather was cool.  The skies were blue.  I ran a negative spit, but as you can see from the profile below, I ran lots of downhill for the second half.  Still, I found it quite difficult to keep my pace up for the second half.  During the final mile, I found my trail friend A-Rod heading out for the trails.  He told me he pretty much got hood-winked (my words) into running the LA Marathon.  His mouth dropped when I told him what I was training for.  “It will be by the grace of God if I finish,” I said.  “Way to go, Sista,” he said, we high-fived (slapped each other’s hands) and were off our separate ways.  I arrived to my car fatigued, but not a zombie, and stretched for a long ten minutes before heading home. 

The Run:

My ritual pose at Meadows Trail:

The mountains in the distance that I will attempt to conquer in a 50 mile increment (in a little more than a month away):

Climbing Mentally Sensitive:

Heading toward Top of the World:

Descending into Wood Canyon:

Finally!

Back on the trails . . .

Where is that Crazy Trail Running Lady?

One of the last things I wrote was I needed to put in the mileage – I needed time on my feet to get ready for Old Goat.  That was my last entry, almost one week ago. 

Then the phone started ringing.  Our district has a shortage of substitutes apparently, and I can’t rightly refuse work in this financial struggle we’re experiencing in California (not everyone, but a lot of people I know are suffering). 

Perhaps you wonder then, why not run after school?  Well, after I substitute, I have my regular evening job.  I don’t get home until 6 or 7.  By then, I can’t run local trails.  They are closed.  I can’t run mountain trails (driving time is too long) and I wouldn’t dare run in the mountains at night alone. 

But I will roll with the punches (which carry cash with them), and . . .

let me tell you . . . I’ve had the experiences that I could have not imagined over the past week.  I’ve substituted “severe” special education in middle school, and laughed with joy during “Fun Friday” when the students got to karaoke for a couple hours.  I also subbed for “severe” special education in our Transitions Program.  Transitions is 4 additional years of school for moderate to severally “handicapped” (disabled) students.  I boarded a school bus and met two students at the local junior college.  I stayed with them for about 4 hours in their adaptive physical education classes.  I knew one of the students from a high school sub assignment last year.  It was a wonderful reunion.  He pretended to know me.  I was thrilled.  Then he said that he really didn’t remember, and I laughed and laughed.  He was a great chap.  We became good pals.  The other student was amazing physically.  During track time, I was so stunned by his speed, I mentioned to the coach that he should be in some running sport.  The coach, though a friendly guy, “blew me off.”

I also subbed a second grade class of thirty something students and no aid.  They were precious.  But the job was so difficult, an hour in, I text’d my husband, “OMG.”  I thought, “Never again!”  Then I got a call the next day for first grade.  I took it.  How can I refuse work????  It helps pay the mortgage, it buys music lessons for the boys, it buys shoes . . .

Mama Mia!!!!  Can you imagine how difficult it is to get 30+ first graders’ attention at once?  If not, I can tell you:  It’s impossible.  I am so not an elementary teacher.  I am high school.  Then to top the first grade day off, the regular teacher wrote me that she promised “dodge ball” for the last hour.  The children cheered!  And I lead them out to the pavement, thinking, “Easy hour.” 

Ends up, I had no less than ten children injured and crying at some point during that game.  I don’t know elementary protocol.  I don’t know what’s allowed.  And so, I treated them as my own children and hugged them until their tears dried.  (I don’t think I will ever again play dodge ball with a group of youngsters). 

I reserved today (Friday) for running.  I received three job opportunities (for kindergarten!).  I declined.  Then it rained all day long.  Locally, snow level is supposedly down to 3,000’ (And I am so jealous).  Anyway, due to the downpour, I ran no miles.  I slept instead. 

The quote Steve Harvey put at the end of his Old Goat Race instructions kept running through my mind all week.  “You get to the start line of an Ultra on physical ability, but you get to the finish  on character!”  At first, this quote gave me great comfort.  I figured maybe character will carry me through.  Then  as the days went by, the quote fell in stature.  I started doubting my character, and began thinking that I’d never cross the finish line based on character!  The weird things that an upcoming ultra puts you through . . . LOL.

Okay, here’s the facts:  I’ve got ZERO miles logged thus far this week. I teach a 6 1/2 hour adult course tomorrow (Saturday).  When I come home I am baking a cake (so I won’t be running).  The next day is my middle son’s birthday.  So, it is likely that this week’s tally will equal a big fat zero.  I refuse to fret over this however.  I’ve already planned to mark myself “unavailable” for Monday, and I shall go from there – ONWARD. 

(1st Image courtesy of hin255 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net, 2nd Image courtesy of worradmu at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.)

The BIGGER Loop

Okay, I know that’s lame.  I contemplated a great deal over what to name today’s loop, but came up with nothing.  This is the best I’ve got (at least until I run this loop again).  What loop?  The second portion of the Old Goat 50 miler that I’m running at the end of March.  The first twenty miles is The Candy Store run that I’ve posted recently.  The second portion of this race is a 30 mile loop that takes runners up The Main Divide, down Trabuco, up Holy Jim  to Santiago Peak, then back, mainly via The Main Divide (in the Saddleback Mountains).

I posted this run in my running club and 3 other runners showed for a shorter loop which took them up the infamous West Horsethief.  We ran together for the first 6 or 7 miles.  The weather was cool, perfectly cool.  And the skies were blue. 

Top of Trabuco/Main Divide (Me an utter goofball, Alyx, Tory, Jessica Deline RD of Twin Peaks and The Harding Hustle):

View of Santiago Peak from Trabuco:

Running Trabuco:

The Departure, and I’m not weeping over missing W. Horsethief:

Once we split, I’m sure my pace slowed.  I run faster when I run with others.  Though I enjoyed the earlier company, now I enjoyed the solitude. I came across several friendly hikers.  And I put a great deal of effort into not thinking about the past or future.  I succeeded pretty well, and of course, that’s when I ran my best. 

I have not run Holy Jim since I DNF’d the Saddleback Marathon this past November.  I have not run to Santiago Peak since Twin Peaks Ultra (October).  I’ve been avoiding these trails I think, due to a fear lurking in the back of my mind.  A fear over the difficulty.  A fear over mental defeat.  Holy Jim is where I gave up the mental battle during the Saddleback Marathon.  Santiago Peak, well, I have a mental defeat just about every time I run those last 2.5 miles. 

Nonetheless, my run into Holy Jim was lovely.  The weather remained cool.  The skies grew a little cloudy.  And the trails were “spring” green with moss and ferns heavily dotting the landscape.

Ending up Trabuco:

Spotting a rare candy rock :

In the Holy Jim parking lot, I traipsed through the brush to locate the fresh water that my son and I stashed yesterday afternoon.  I felt a little like Katniss from The Hunger Games.  Just like in The Hunger Games, water is the number one commodity in trail running (calories being number 2, which I had plenty of).  Though I wasn’t particularly thirsty (I had just gone through 60 fluid ounces on the trip there), my mouth practically watered when I pulled out one of the hidden jugs.  I set it on a log, unpacked some calories and refilled my hydration pack to the brim.  That water looked so beautiful and precious to me, I was tempted to pour it over my head and shower in it.  But alas, the weather was too cool for such an act.  So, I hid the jug back among the others and headed up Holy Jim. 

Holy Jim was a bear, yes, but not a grizzly bear.  I found the 5 mile climb laborious, but enjoyable.  It was like meeting up with an old friend (one of life’s greatest treats).  On the way up Holy Jim, I devised a plan to conquer the final 2.5 mile ascent to Santiago Peak.  I decided I would use those couple miles to “rest-up.”  Instead of struggling by running up that thing, I chose to hike it.  In fact, I forbade myself to run any portion of it, EXCEPT the flat part that reaches only about a tenth mile. 

A Stream Crossing on Holy Jim:

Hiking the last couple miles to Santiago Peak:

That’s not me on the motorcycle:

A view from the summit:

Standing on the Summit:

I only lost about ten minutes hiking to the peak instead of attempting to run it.  That’s a lot of time for only 2.5 miles.  HOWEVER, I felt relaxed.  The ascent was still difficult.  But I never grew angry.  I didn’t bash myself (that is fill my brain with negative self-talk).  I reached the peak delighted.  And on my trip down, I felt stronger than usual.  I think I’m going to work on this approach more. 

The next three miles back down were good.  The final ten miles were an utter struggle.  I ran most of them, and when I found myself trying to run ridiculous inclines, I forced a fast hike (as fast as I could manage anyhow).

Today’s training run:  Success, even though The Bigger Loop took me quite a bit longer than I hoped.  At least I know where I stand (or run), and have a time to work with. 

I feel like time is fleeting.  But I will not fret.  Time on my feet, that’s my goal this month.  Putting in the miles!

Change of Plans

I woke with a sore throat and considered not running.  Every time I run with a sore throat it seems that I get sicker and lose more time from training.  But I’ve already lost so much time.   I must get in the miles.  There really is no time to lose.  I dosed up on the vitamin C, got the boys breakfast and off to school before making my decision.  I chose to change my original grueling hill training run for a more relaxed 12 mile run. 

I didn’t take any pain relievers so that I could tell whether my throat worsened.  And I debated whether to drive up into the mountains for The Candy Store Run or to run local trails.  Wanting a change of scenery, I decided against the mountains (because there’s the extra 2 hours driving time), and chose parks I don’t often run:  Laguna Wilderness and Crystal Cove. 

These two parks are rather popular, much more than Aliso/Wood Canyons (my stomping grounds).  I think the reason for the popularity is the vast ocean views most of the trails provide.  I suppose they aren’t among my favorites because I live at the seaside.  Standing on my front porch I can see a sliver of the ocean.  If I walk a short block and a half up, I have literally a 180 degree ocean view (my town is kind of in a giant cove). 

Running No-Name Ridge into Crystal Cove:

My throat hurt when swallowing, my calves and shins tightened with each step I ran down toward the sea.  Stopping twice to stretch, I decided the tightness was probably early signs of plantar fasciitis rearing its ugly head again.  I decided to tape my arches once I reached the ranger station approximately 3.5 miles away.  Then as if instantly, at 1.5 miles, my calves and shins felt perfectly fine. 

Very soon, I ran in awe of the coastal beauty.  I was also surprised how many hikers I came upon on this weekday morning – dozens. 

A quick pose before final descent to the ranger station:

Not wanting to waste time, I decided to skip taping at the ranger station.  Instead, I ran out to the ocean for a quick glimpse of what I take advantage of every day.  The water was a gorgeous deep blue.  White water rushed up to my feet.  I jumped back to avoid wet shoes.  Then I stopped briefly to run my hand through the fine sand in search of beach glass.  (Yes, we collect beach glass in our home.)  Coming up empty handed I ran back underneath the highway and headed up to Moro Ridge.  I decided on B.F.I. (Big F****ing Incline) to take me there.  The trail is named appropriately.

Onward to the ocean:

Relieved to finally make the ridge, I soon ran right back down to near sea level because I simply have to run El Moro Canyon.  It’s not quite a brutal run, and it’s beautiful down there.  Only thing is, since I had run all the way back down, all my B.F.I. progress was lost, and I had to climb back out.  I forgot all about my throat.  It felt good to have sweat run down my face. 

I took Nice and Easy Trail for the final ascent which wasn’t easy at all, though it was nice.  I suppose it was easier than the alternative, Elevator Trail.  The trail I took lasted so long however, that I wished that I had chosen Elevator, which gets you to the ridge REALLY quickly.

I’m delighted I changed my plans today instead of resting up.  Yes, today’s run was still a tad grueling.  But it was WELL worth it.  I’ve got both arches taped up tonight.  And best thing is, I don’t have a sore throat right now.  Here’s to hoping I can stay well! 

Not Quite Mt. Everest

I got out for my first run since Calico.  Wow.  My calves and shins were tight.  I stretched them after a half mile, and then again at 1.5 miles.  Then I headed off to the steepest hill in the park: Mentally Sensitive. 

Mentally Sensitive was a BEAR to climb today – a grizzly bear.  Sheesh!!!  I actually found myself staggering.  In my near delirium, I noticed a guy back about a quarter mile.  I never see anyone climb up Mentally Sensitive.  This guy was really moving. And he wasn’t running, he was hiking.  He passed me pretty quickly, in super spirits too.  He stunned me with his ability.  I could tell he was a runner by his attire and his gear, yet he didn’t run one step up this trail (that I saw).  He marched up that gigantic hill.  In my miserable stagger we spoke briefly, and he was so positive over the difficulty, visibly happy over it, I thought to myself, I HAVE TO practice his strategy.  His strong hike beat my run by a long, long shot.

Overall, I had a wonderful run in one of my favorite wilderness parks (Aliso/Wood Canyons).  I ran what I call The Big Loop, about 13 1/2 miles.  And I ran it faster than I have before (by about 15 minutes!)  Being my last run for January, I came up short running the elevation of Mt. Everest for the month.  Almost 8,000’ short.  That’s okay.  I’m bound to do it in February with Old Goat a mere two months away. 

Some of the beautiful moments on today’s run:

Today’s profile:

Calico Trail Run 2013

2013 is my fifth year running The Calico Trail Run.  This is THE RACE.  The Race that lead me to trail running.  In fact, it’s now grown into a family tradition to stay in Calico Ghost Town for 2 days come late January.   

I wrote in my last blog entry that I didn’t expect great results on this year’s 30k, but that I didn’t want my worst time.  Well, folks, I got my worst time, by 15 minutes (& I was 50 minutes slower than last year when I placed in my category).  I did however have the BEST time running this race.  I didn’t feel all together strong, but I felt comfortable.  I felt comfortable in my “skin,” and I felt comfortable on my feet.  Even though a cold, cold wind blew into my face practically the entire run, I knew the trails, I knew the rocks, the boulders, the sand. My head was cold.  But, I felt in my element. 

Waiting to Start:

Starting off on pavement into the lonely, colorful desert:

We ran sand, yes sand, for several miles.  I figured out a couple years ago, to get out of the sand and run in the brush where the ground is solid.  I noticed shadows behind me as others from the back of the pack followed suit. 

I tried not to do much socializing, as I usually spend too much time goofing around and making friends.  Regardless, I did meet some lovely people, saw familiar faces.  My goal was to get as many people behind me as possible.  In other words, get as many runners beneath my name on the board. 

I passed very few runners.  About half-way, I realized I needed to run a negative split to make last year’s time.  Ha, ha.  The hardest part of the run is the last 6 or so miles. 

Good news, I kept the demons at bay.  I didn’t bash myself when I realized I needed to run a negative split and couldn’t.  I just kept on running and took in the desert’s beauty. 

Once I kicked a rock so hard, I was very happy that I wore my most rugged shoes, else I may have broken my toe.  I only tripped once.  Miracle.  And I passed a male runner with a dog.  I took a couple handfuls of potato chips at the stations.  Once I took some jelly beans.  I gulped down one small cup of Coca-Cola at each station.  Besides this nutrition my pack contained Nuun water.  I also downed a few Endurolytes and two peanut-butter gels.   

Here  (below), I finally caught a delightful couple (from Bakersfield, Ca.) that I had been working hours to pass.  For a while there, it was back and forth between us.  When I finally caught them at this tunnel filled with water, there was no way I wasn’t going to get them beneath my name on the board.  They were tough, tough, tough to lose, that’s for sure.  Finally, I just pushed it with all I had, to give myself a good lead.  And I looked back.  I NEVER look back.  But I needed to see if I had a good enough lead to slow it down it bit for the last big hill.  I could tell . . . perhaps you know that look, “okay, go ahead and take it,” look.  They had that.  So I hiked up that last hill as fast as I could, where my oldest son met me.  And we ran it on to the finish together.

That delightful couple maneuvering through the tunnel:

Ends up I had ten people beneath me on the board (plus 1 DNF) out of thirty-something 30k runners.  I had my family with me.  I didn’t fall.  I finished.  What more can a girl ask for?

Oh!  I almost forgot the movie . . . LOL

First race of 2013