Blue Jay to Blue Jay

I drove up the mountain again in the dark this morning.  And this time, I didn’t make the long drive just to check the weather and drive back (like I did last weekend).  My eyelids were heavy, the weather was cold.  And I so, so, so didn’t want to run.  (What’s going on with me???)  I wanted more than anything to drive home and go back to sleep. 

My truck parked in Blue Jay at The Main Divide, I applied sunscreen, Glide.  I briefly considered taking a nap in my truck.  Only the fear of a crazed killer breaking my window and slashing my throat as I slept stopped me.  “Just get out of the car and start marching,” I told myself.  And that I did.  Up the Main Divide, I hiked, I ran, I suffered as the sun rose above the horizon.

Nearly  two miles later, I felt in the groove – just in time for a nice long downhill on Trabuco Trail.  I felt good.  Loose.  I made good time.  I even made better time than usual when it got rocky.  AND IT GOT ROCKY.   Amazingly, I came upon running friend Mark R. on that trail.  I write “amazingly” because out of all the trails, and all the hours in the day, it’s a big coincidence that I’d come upon a friend in these lonely woods. 

Trail running is so fun!

Running down a serene Trabuco Trail: 

Rocks.  And more rocks!:

I wasted twenty, yes TWENTY minutes at the bottom of Trabuco.  I dug out my water stash, refilled my pack.  The weather warming up, I had to peel off layers and somehow find room for them in my pack.  With a full water bladder, I needed to cram my belongings into my pack to fit.  I broke one of the bungee cord tie downs on the backside.  I feared I might bust the zippers too, my pack was so full.  Ended up, I had to take out a water bottle and carry it.  (I drank it on the way up Holy Jim to get rid of the weight.)

On the way up Holy Jim, I was lucky to come upon a California Mountain King Snake.  It was beautifully colored, bright orange, black and white.  But, alas, it moved too fast for me to catch a photo.  I made decent time, not great, but not terrible, running slowly up Holy Jim.  The main thing was, I didn’t suffer much.  I didn’t suffer much because I finally realized how to run Holy Jim.  The secret is: Fully expect another switchback at every single bend, otherwise your heart will break again and again.  In other words, don’t look for the end.  Don’t expect the end.  Just keep going and take in the beauty. 

Warming up on Holy Jim: 

I put my hands on my hips at least once.  And I grabbed a couple tree trunks on my final ascent to Bear springs.  Again, I was amazed this morning.  Bear Springs was actually CROWDED with people taking in the giant shade before a big trek to Santiago Peak.  I had to get a picture.  I stood back from the group, snapped a photo and one of the young women turned and looked at me.  “I know you,” she said.  I started filing through runners in my mind to place her.  Before I could finish she said, “You’re Lauren.  I read your blog!” 

Wow!  Talk about a picker-upper.  I chatted a bit with Maria and her friends (in photo below).  She was so nice and encouraging about my Old Goat training.  She made me feel like I was almost there as far as training, instead of how I’ve been feeling, which is I’m NO WHERE CLOSE.

Bear Springs:

I took off rested on The Main Divide back toward Blue Jay, noticing cougar tracks in far too many places.  They were small tracks, but much too big for a bobcat.  They probably belonged to a juvenile.  I’ve seen cougar tracks on occasion, especially on Harding Truck Trail, but never on this trail. 

The remainder of this 21 mile run was a grueling, yet joyful, up and down, up and down rocky truck trail.  I ran up on snow several times, using the opportunity to fill my cap with it so that I could keep my head cool.

Looking toward the Pacific Ocean (at Indian Truck Trail intersection):

I’m so relieved that I got out and ran instead of napping in my truck.

Great gain today (6,344’):

Scratch That

I’m not running tomorrow, so I can close out February with a checkmark next to my goal – to run the elevation of Mt. Everest (29,029’/8,848 m).  I ran about 1,500’ more elevation than the great mountain, totaling 30,556’ (9,313 m) for the month of February. 

As I ran those 30,000’+ of elevation, I came to realize a few things that must go concerning my running if I’m going to have any chance of finishing Old Goat 50.  First off, I’ve got to loosen up.  Loosen my shoulders, my legs, my arms, basically get rid of all tension.  Another thing I’ve decided, is that it’s okay to grab at branches.  I used to forbid myself from grabbing a branch to climb a steep trail.  Doing so made me feel weak.  To this silly rule, I say, screw that.  I will grab at branches, at boulders, or anything else that will help move me forward.  Another odd rule I used to have (because again, I foolishly considered it a sign of weakness) is forbidding myself to use my arms to push off from my quads.  When a climb is so steep that it’s practically more efficient to crawl, I will use my arms to push off from my quads.  In fact, I will do it anytime such a move propels me forward.

There’s more that I learned, and in today’s run finalized.  To begin, I have been adamantly against the forefoot strike, mainly because it irritates my neuroma.  Scratch that.  I can get up a brutally steep hill faster with a forefoot strike.  Sometimes a forefoot strike is okay!    And lastly, I’ve decided it’s okay to put my hands on my hips.  Yes, hands on the hips slows me down.  But that’s okay.  Hands on the hips is a way of resting without stopping forward momentum.

Concerning this morning’s run, though I was no speed demon, I made decent time.  Best of all, it felt like one of those “easy” runs.  And lastly, the only reason I went up Mentally Sensitive is because it’s a bitch, a real bitch! (Excuse my language, I’m just in that kind of mood.)

Grabbing at a branch moment on Mentally Sensitive:

This morning’s elevation profile:

A Good Run

I got out for a trail run this morning with absolutely no goals in mind.  I didn’t feel particularly strong.  In fact, climbing Rock It was a bear. A big grizzly bear.  But I did enjoy the hills.  They were alive.  They were alive with a cold breeze that played music by rustling leaves and swaying tall grass.  They were alive with squirrels and bunnies, lizards, and a blue heron. 

Yes, it was a good run.

Coyote Run Trail:

Rock It:

Top of the World:

I think I can’t

After working a 6 day week, I started off this morning at 4:30 AM in a low mood.  I felt fatigued. I felt discouraged.  As Old Goat 50 approaches, I realize more than ever, that I am in way over my head.  I don’t think I can do it.  And how can I even start a race if I don’t think that I can do it?

Even with this defeatist attitude, I dressed for a run and got out the door early.  I began the drive up the mountain at 5:00 AM.  About five miles into Ortega Highway, a car sped up behind me.  The skies were pitch black, the moon behind me, low on the horizon.  All I could decipher about the car were its blaring headlights riding up my rear. 

Now, I drive that windy, cliffy highway cautiously, but I keep at the speed limit.  Often drivers get behind me and tailgate beyond irritation.  I only slightly speed up when this occurs because I don’t want to become one of the countless fatalities of Ortega Highway.  I always pull over at the first turnout – even if the driver isn’t tailgating.  I don’t like driving up that mountain with any vehicles behind me. 

No turnout for a few miles I sped up, over the speed limit, I’m sure.  The car behind me slowed just a bit, but still rode me.  Then suddenly, the red and blue spinning lights took over the sky.  It was the sheriff.  His lights were magnificently bright against the black mountains.  And in my awe, I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT.  “Of all people,” I thought, “I’m going to get a speeding ticket???”  (Funny thing, the last speeding ticket I got was on Ortega Highway!  I was pregnant with my first son on my way home from substitute teaching at a boys’ detention camp located near Lower Blue Jay Campground.  The irony!)

The deputy was a young guy.  I probably had 20 years on him.  Foolishly, I immediately blurted out my reason for speeding.  He said, “That’s okay, don’t worry about it.”  Turns out, he pulled me over because my truck matched the description of someone who had just stolen some pallets.  (Or so he said ). 

“Have a good night,” he said.  And I was off driving up the mountain toward Lower Blue Jay Campground to run The Candy Store Lollipop Loop plus some.  I stashed some water on my way there.  I arrived to Blue Jay under dark skies.  After applying sunscreen and Glide while sitting in my warm truck, I opened the door and stepped out.  Tree canopies all about swirled in a fierce wind.  My face nearly cracked and shattered from the wind chill. 

I could not run in the freezing wind.  Or could I?  I felt like a wimp, like maybe I should.  But in the end, I decided to drive back down the mountain during sunrise.  I stopped to get the water I stashed on the way up.  Then I debated all the way down the mountain what I should do.

Seriously, I didn’t want to run.  My eyelids felt heavy.  I thought about driving home and going straight to bed.  However, I knew that I’d let the evil bashing voices in to condemn me all day.  Then I thought, “Heck, just pull over and sleep in the truck; that way no one will know.”  (Ha, ha, no one but me, not to mention, I’d have to lie to my family, which I wouldn’t do).  At the bottom of the mountain, I finally decided some food might help me get along.  So I stopped by McDonalds for a healthy greasy breakfast.  The Sausage Egg McMuffin totaled 450 calories.  So, I made the decision to run the coastal hills without calories, thinking the 450 would do me.  (I usually don’t eat breakfast before running.)

The weather was quite cold at Aliso/Wood Canyons, but not freezing.  I took off into Aliso Canyon with stiff calves and shins, which is weird because that tightness doesn’t occur in the mountains. 

I really had no idea how far I’d run this morning, though I had planned on 26.  I knew that I wouldn’t do that.  I wasn’t even sure if I could do 5 miles today.  Relieved to just get out there, I practiced loosening up.  I practiced on focusing.  I practiced keeping my core straight.  Whenever I thought about anything, I sobbed.  So, I didn’t think.  I concentrated on running elevation, not so much miles.  (I still want to run Mt. Everest’s elevation this month). 

I wound in and around the wilderness park for a little over 16 miles.  At first I felt very good on the down hills.  I even felt okay on the ascents.  Before I was even half way through (which I didn’t know at the time because I didn’t know how many miles I would run), fatigued settled in.  Allowing the McDonalds breakfast to carry me through on calories was not a good idea. 

Though my mood was in the dumps overall today, I enjoyed much of today’s run.  I got out there when I didn’t want to run.  The only thing I wanted to do was sleep.  So utterly wiped out I was in the end, I hiked the last .75 mile in.  And now that I think of it, I didn’t even stretch at the truck.  Instead, I drove home, but stopped first for some groceries.  Then I slept for 2 hours.

And that is the story of today’s run. 

A quick pose after climbing Mentally Sensitive:

Finishing up Rock It:

Dragging myself up Lynx:

Loosening up

I admire many runners.  Wait.  I think I admire all runners.  I study their form.  I read their books.  I read their blogs.  The other night, I watched a movie trailer about Anton Krupicka, an impressive trail runner out of Colorado.  I couldn’t help but notice how loose and free he appeared in this trailer, even on the technical trails.  I compared that to my running.  I take those technical trails, especial downhill portions, stiffly, fearful and heavy.   No wonder I can’t run The Candy Store run in the time I need.  I run too rigidly.  I don’t loosen up.

Today I decided to conquer Mentally Sensitive for some elevation.  Then for the big downhill, I took one of the most technical trails in Aliso/Wood Canyons: Rock It.  I practiced loosening up, especially my upper body on the rolling hills on the way.  Down Rock It,  I felt like a different runner.  I ran quicker and without fear.  I ran lightly, and seemingly with less effort.  I think I just may be onto something to improve my trail running.  

Here’s to one happy trail runner.  I may have not been able to get out there as much as I would have liked this week.  This loosening up revelation definitely makes up for all that.

Running trails with deer:

Ready to conquer:

The climb:

Rain’s coming in:

Running Rock It:

View from Rock It:

More Practice ( and, What was I thinking??????)

I hit the Saddleback Mountains today, driving up before sunrise.  My plan:  run the correct Old Goat first 20 miles.  I had previously missed a turn onto what’s called the Viejo Tie.  And I was also ending this partial practice course on “Old” San Juan Trail instead of “New” San Juan Trail.  The Viejo Tie and the correct ending added about 2 miles to my usual route.

The campsites were full, but quiet as I ran the paved road toward San Juan Trail.  I believe I was the first runner or cyclist to show in Blue Jay.  Not a person stirred.  The weather was cold as I focused on pace, running San Juan Trail without music at first.  It’s an extremely rocky trail, my biggest fear was falling.  In fact, San Juan Trail is the location of one of my biggest trail running falls ever.  Still, I was happy that I made it to the Viejo Tie in good time. 

Running above the clouds on San Juan Trail:

The Viejo Tie added more technical trail (by-passing a milder portion of Chiquita).  So in-tuned and focused, I surprisingly caught the quick left turn I was supposed to take according to the map I closely studied last night.  I ran uphill, then downhill, then uphill, then downhill, again and again, until I worried that I took a wrong turn.  And then FINALLY, I saw it – the Viejo Tie/Chiquita Trail intersection.  At this point, I was still pleased with my time.  Not exhilarated, merely pleased.   

These twenty miles are extremely difficult for me to run.  Some parts are quite technical, at times with boulders blocking the way.  There’s tree roots and tree stumps crossing the trails.  There’s slippery sandy parts.  There’s ruts and crevices.   Thankfully, there’s also lots of shade.

I made Chiquita falls a little disappointed by my time.  But I told myself, “Don’t fret, don’t grow anxious, IT IS WHAT IT IS.”  I had finally controlled my anger over tripping on rocks.  I kinda figured it wasn’t good for the mental game if I yelled out a profanity every  time I tripped on a rock.

Running the San Juan Loop into the parking lot:

I arrived to the turnaround point across from The Candy Store 50 minutes past my best case scenario, 20 minutes past the deadline for making the entire route within the first cutoff back at Blue Jay campground.  To make matters worse, after digging my water jug out of the bushes and refilling, I accidently dumped my entire re-fill.  So, I made it back to the bushes for the jug, refilled the bladder again, dissolved Nuun tablets again, squeezed the air bubbles out again.  I spent 8 minutes at the turnaround.  I didn’t give up the idea of at least trying to make the cut-off, and kicked it in for the most difficult part of the trip.  I ran most of the time, hiked the steepest portions. 

I grew so fatigued toward the end of my climb back, I decided that when I hit the cut-off time, I was going to cut the course and head back to my truck. 

And then, my ipod battery died.  That’s when I heard the breeze.  It sounded like beautiful music to my ears.  The tree leaves rustled in the wind.  And leaves crumpled beneath the squirrels’ tiny feet as they scampered back and forth across the trails.  I didn’t want to leave the trail.  So, I decided to run the whole first part of Old Goat and not cut the course. 

In the end I came in 18 minutes past the cut-off. I’m okay with that.  I’ve got a little time.  Besides, today was the first time I ran the Viejo Tie.  Not only that, I felt good when I finished, like I could run another thirty miles. 

(Still, what was I thinking?????).

Birthday Run

I’m not much into “training.”  I’m really into trail running.  When it comes to “training”, I flail.  My confidence plummets when I “train.”  Negative self-talk sets in.  (I’m working on that problem.)

This time around, I’m just getting in the miles, best I can.  And I’m practicing sections of my upcoming race.  I like to know every ditch and boulder on the trails that I race.  That way I won’t need to look for markers.  And there’s less surprises.  (With trail running however, just like in life, it’s impossible to eliminate all surprises.) 

This morning, for my 48th birthday, I woke at 5AM, the entire household asleep, and drove up Ortega Highway into the Saddleback Mountains.  I stashed some water across the highway from The Candy Store and drove on up to Blue Jay campground (total drive = 1 hour). 

Then, on a cool weathered morning, I commenced to run approximately the first 20 miles of the 50 mile race I’m registered for next month.  I came in under the section cut-off with only minutes to spare.  That’s cutting it a bit too close for me.  But I learned lots on today’s run, mainly how to pace myself.  I also came upon the race director, Steve Harvey running with his Trans Rockies partner, Jennie (imagine my luck!!).  I told him, exasperated, “I don’t think I can make the cut-off.”  Steve hugged me and said, “You might not, but I think that you can do it.”  I believed him.  What he said is true.  I might not make the cut-off, but I CAN do it – it’s not out of reach.  To add to my luck, I got to clear up some things about the Candy Store Lollipop loop I was running.  Turns out, I’ve been taking a wrong turn about three miles in.  (Next PRACTICE run, I shall correct that).  

San Juan Trail trailhead – stooping down so that I can fit into picture frame (I cut my head off in first picture):

Chiquita Trail:

Changing socks for ankle socks near my water stash.  Across the highway is The Candy Store.  After refilling my pack, I found it very difficult to depart with my water jug.  And I spent TEN minutes here – much too long.  But that’s okay – it was a lovely time:

Heading back to Blue Jay on Chiquita (Though I believe the first picture below is part of San Juan Loop.)  The trip back is mainly uphill, quite technical and grueling beneath a warm sun:

A rock on Chiquita trail with beauty that stopped me in my tracks:

Still heading back on Chiquita:

Climbing Old San Juan Trail back to my truck: