No Matter What, Do Not Open That Door!”

Do you remember the scene from the American movie Young Frankenstein, when the doctor says, “No matter what, DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR!”?  “No matter how much I scream and beg, do not open it!”  The next scene Dr. Frankenstein was banging on the door, “Please, please open the door!  Forget what I said before.  I was only joking!!!”

This morning I remembered that scene (actually I remember that scene often, as it is so reminiscent of life).  Anyway, I told my husband last night, “When my alarm goes off, do not let me go back to sleep – kick me out of bed!  I WANT TO RUN.” 

Thing was, after I said this, I tossed and turned for an hour last night, anxious where I might run in the mountains without several downhill miles.  Why?  My ankle.  I feel asleep unresolved where I would run.  Good news was, I had money for gasoline. (Hip-hip-hooray!!)

My phone alarm rang at 4:00 AM, and though I was awake and ready, I didn’t want to drive an hour for a mountain run.  I didn’t think my foot could hack it.  So, I set my alarm for a later time and tried, tried to fall back asleep.  Remember, I told my husband not to let me fall back to sleep?  He is such a good hubby, my biggest supporter.  And he stayed true to his word.  HE WOULD NOT LET ME GO BACK TO SLEEP.  He took away my blankets.  He groped me (I know T.M.I. ); he wasn’t going to let me out of this.  I was going to run DANG IT.

“NEVERMIND,” I said.  “I didn’t mean it!  REALLY.  I WAS JOKING!!!  Seriously.  I WAS JOKING.”

Finally, I headed out to the living room, plopped myself onto the couch with the cellphone by my side.  My dedicated husband came out to cover me with a blanket and shut the windows.  Thing was, it was 4:15 AM, and I was wide awake! 

I tossed and turned again, then finally rose from the couch.  That’s when I made a 2-cup pot of coffee, got dressed and decided I would eventually open the front door.  First however, I would toss ideas in my head, for a couple hours, how I would manage this. 

I packed a full bladder of fluids, deciding that I would run around 14 miles.  but not in the mountains.  I was pretty certain that I would re-injure my ankle on long technical down hills.  Coastal hills it was.  So fearful of a chronic injury, I wrapped my ankle in a corset.  Not one like this (I wish!):

http://www.etsy.com/listing/59800644/in-bloom-ankle-corsets-tatted-lace?ref=shop_home_feat

No, my ankle corset was this:

I took off on Aliso Creek Trail before the wilderness park even opened.  Funny thing was, I took off exactly the same time as three other male runners.  One of them looked just like my running friend Tom B., whom I have not run with in over a year – well since he ran the Mexico Copper Canyon 50 miler (Born to Run).  I kept up with the trio for a while, but had to stop and readjust the corset.  It felt too thick beneath my heal, causing discomfort.  About then a few cyclists rode past me on this cool, overcast morning.  As I began “The Big Loop,” I really thought I could do it. 

Along the way I ran up on 3 deer:

I ran into Wood Canyon feeling okay, glad that I opted for short sleeves.  Even though the weather was overcast and breezy, the air was humid.  I ran Meadows Trail completely, utterly (& happily) alone.  And I recalled the first time I ever ran trails solo.  It was this very same wilderness park.  And I was scared out of my mind.  Today, I felt no fear.  I just ran, fully aware of my surroundings, and fully aware that my pace waned. 

I joyfully marched up Mentally Sensitive.  It’s a bear of a climb, but a delightful climb when I can hack it.  (And I can always hack it, just sometimes better than others).

Caught without a smile!  I thought I’d post this one, because my running pals think I’m always smiling on the trail – I tell them it’s because I’m the one who holds the camera!  When I press “click,” I smile.   I’m almost finished with the toughest part of Mentally Sensitive here.  And though I’m not full of laughter, I’m lovin’ it. (And it’s not even 8AM on a Saturday!)

Taking a look back on the climb up Mentally Sensitive:

As I ran toward Top of the World, I knew I would need to make a decision.  Should I run my 14 mile loop?  My right ankle had no spring to it whatsoever.  As I ran along the ridge, I stopped to change out my corset for a looser ankle brace.  I hoped this would bring some of the spring back.  This it did not.  

Goats along the ridge:

I managed to gain on the runner ahead of me.  He ran the hill toward Top of the Word in a switch-back fashion.  I did so by running straight up the hill (which I can do now with many miles of practice).  He kind of chuckled when we met.  “Good job,” he said, I’m sure noticing my brace. 

Even with the looser brace, my ankle felt wrong.  Still, I could NOT pick up my pace.  That caused some minor aggravation beneath my hot breath.  How important is mileage right now? I asked myself.  

Breakfast at Top of the World Café (You supply the food, water supplied by fountains):

Heading down West Ridge on the loop back:

I made my decision at the Mathis / West Ridge intersection to  cut my loop short.  My ankle without spring began to ache.  And I knew that I was going to put in too many hours for my 14 mile loop.  And so I headed down Mathis in a leisurely manner instead of running all of West Ridge down to Wood Canyon. 

About a quarter mile down, I saw a blonde man raise his arms and yell out “Lauren!”  Baffled at first, it took me a few seconds and a peer at those perfectly formed teeth to realize this runner was Tom B!  The very same runner that I thought I recognized at the start of this morning’s run.  The very same running friend that I would not have crossed paths with if my ankle didn’t cause me problems.  Imagine that! 

I stopped at chatted with Tom, enthused by his enthusiasm.  I learned more about his sandals and saw that he was wearing pair.  I couldn’t help but think my ankle and feet would be better off in them and out of the constraints I had put them in.  As soon as I have more cash than enough to get me to the trails, I’m going to buy me a pair, even if it’s just for walking around. (Tommie’s Toes).   

The trip down Mathis:

Even after the lifter from seeing an old friend (not as in “old age”), I still could not gather the strength to increase my pace.  My pace in fact down Mathis Trail was ridiculously slow for me.  Down hill did me no good today.  Ends up the last .75 miles in to the Ranger Station, I hiked.  I watched my pace and tried to increase it in on the hike.  Amazingly, my hiking pace was quicker than my somewhat lame running pace.

Here’s a final foot pose, using the model (childish) foot pose I’ve noticed on websites.  Apparently when one poses feet, you hold your feet at an awkward, childish pose.  LOL:

The Gain:

Sometimes the hardest part of the run is getting from the front porch to the car

Yes, it’s true.  Usually, sometimes when I make it to the truck, the hardest part of my run is over.  At times it takes that much mental power to get out the door.  I write you no lie – it took me the good part of THREE hours this morning to convince myself not to let my ankle rest one more day.  And I probably could have let my ankle rest one more day.  But I have begun to feel like a sloth.

Late morning, as the weather began to heat up on this first day of summer, my feet finally hit the dirt in Wood Canyon.  I’m not sure if it was my running rest or work on a straight column, but my trudge up Cholla was quite comfortable.  Sure, my shirt was drenched in sweat.  But I never felt the misery.  Perhaps that means I need to now increase my speed.

Ankle report:  a slight discomfort on the downhills.  I could also feel my ankle weakness.  I nearly rolled it a half-dozen times, and I’m not generally an ankle roller.

In all, I’m delighted to have made that trip from the front porch to the car.  6.5 hilly miles does wonders for the soul.

Heading up Cholla Trail:

Looking down Wood Canyon:

Final Stretch up to Top of the World:

View of Pacific Ocean from West Ridge:

Should I Run this Race, or am I too Old?

As I rest up my ankle, JUST ONE MORE DAY , I contemplate new challenges for the year.  I’m returning to some of my regular challenges, and they are beasts indeed.  With my ankle injured, I’m back strength training, which I gave up when I could no longer afford gym membership (silly me – you don’t need a gym to gain strength!).

All of my races need strength, a solid mental strength as well as physical.  But I wonder, could I gain enough strength to handle one of the Spartan races that I’ve been hearing about?  Or am I too old?

I’ve run obstacle races.  I’ve run lots of mud races.  I’ve run endurance races.  I’ve run short races, marathons, but nothing, nothing like a Spartan race.  If you haven’t heard of these races, let me give you a little re-cap.  They are “primitive-like” obstacle races (of various distances, from 5k to marathon).  And I think the contenders are a bit mad, undoubtedly crazier than myself.  This is why I wonder, Am I too old?

Sure, I’ve accidentally ran off a mountainside.  I’ve stood on ground that broke away and sent me sliding.  I’ve nearly stepped on a rattle snake.  I’ve eaten dirt countless times.  I’ve had a pebble lodged into my eye.  I’ve been crazy enough to run through poison oak again and again.  I thought I broke my knee when while running on ice I crashed to the ground.  I’ve even suffered heat-exhaustion.  I’ve run in the pouring rain.  I’ve climbed walls and fences.  I’ve jumped from high distances.  I’ve been crazy enough to run in 3 digit temperatures.  I’ve run in freezing cold. 

But I have NEVER jumped over fire!  Nor I have ever had to dodge moving obstacles.  I have never had to traverse a hanging rope while holding on upside down!!!  I have been taken out of my comfort zone.  But not this much out of my comfort zone.

What do you think?  Might I dare?  Might you dare?  (If you’re intrigued, check out this link for dates & locations: http://www.spartanrace.com/spartan-obstacle-racing-events.php)

SO, Spartan Races gave me a free entry that I can give away to a reader of this blog.  Though these races are held all over the world, this entry is for any in  in the Continental U.S. 

Like my Facebook page “Lauren on the Run” (badge on right side of this screen), and your name will go into a hat for the free entry.  If only one person “likes” my page, then you win!!!!!  (Spartan also generously supplied me with a 15% off link that I’ll pass on to anyone who “likes.”)  Be sure to comment and tell me if you think I should run this race.  I’m seriously curious.  If you have previously liked my facebook page, a comment will get you an entry in this free race drawing.   Also, BE SURE TO LET ME KNOW (via comment or e-mail) if you “liked” my facebook page, otherwise I might not catch it. 

Muhahahaha. 

I think this ankle-rest-up is getting to me.  (ps.  I’ll draw a winner in 2 weeks).

Thanks for reading!  Time to ice.

Unspeakable Beauty (Trail Running in the Saddleback Mountains)

To bed early (9:00 AM – oh the glory!), I woke at 4 AM.  I hoped to make the drive to the Holy Jim trailhead by 5:40.  But I lazed around the house too long, drinking coffee, casually dressing, that I didn’t arrive until 5:50.  (At least I planned ahead and got my gas the night prior).

On my offroad drive into Trabuco Canyon, I noticed a smoldering camp fire.  A slight breeze blew through the canyon and I didn’t want to take my chances that this fire might spread.  Sure, I could escape, but what about my truck and all those cabins nestled into the canyon.    First off, and more importantly, who sets an illegal fire in the first place, then doesn’t completely extinguish it???  If you’re going to set an illegal fire, be DANG SURE TO PUT IT OUT.  I don’t mean to be judgmental, but am I wrong? Utterly annoyed, I turned my truck around.  Kicking dirt at the fire didn’t do much, as the dirt was compacted and dry.  Remembering that I had plenty of water in my truck, I eventually doused out the fire and headed onward into the canyon.  Not only did these careless fire makers risk a disaster, but they also cost me time.  Oh, the humanity!!!

I arrived to Holy Jim Parking lot, utterly alone.  As I strapped on my vest, I heard voices in the distance and wondered, who the heck is playing in the creek at this hour?  When I finally set out, I saw two runners coming into the lot.  I knew both by sight.  One of the men went to college with my husband, the other I’ve seen running all over the mountains.  Though we are more acquaintances than anything else, I can tell you, it was sure nice to see to familiar faces in a desolate canyon at this hour.  We chatted for a short bit and headed off in opposite directions.
 

I took off up Holy Jim trail, a relentless five-mile uphill switchback to The Main Divide (a truck trail that meanders back and forth behind and front of the mountain with Orange and Riverside County Views).

I have NEVER noticed this sign before (go figure):
More Holy Jim, switchback after switchback, through forest and desert-like terrain:
Looks like the spirit of Caballo Blanco making his way through this canyon (notice the horse head shape of the clouds):

The scenery was so beautiful this morning, I wasted much time taking photos.  I also took some extra time working on form – that is keeping my head and shoulders even with my hips while making my way up hill.  This form felt awkward for some time.  I felt like I was in a marching band, and also like my rear end was sticking out.  But when I checked, I found my column straight.  Odd.
 

I did not see one person travelling up or down Holy Jim.  This of course was perfectly fine with me.  When I’m working on form, I don’t really appreciate company of strangers because I don’t want competition to take over.  The mountains were desolate on this wonderful morning.  Peaceful and serene.  After the parking lot, I didn’t speak a single word.

The final stretch of Holy Jim:

I made it to the top of Holy Jim (Bear Springs) ten minutes slower than my slow time.  Great relief set in as I made my way along The Main Divide.  My ankle cause minor pain, nothing terrible.  But still it worried me.  I took two ibuprofen (Yes, I know that is a no-no).  Overall the Main Divide was unspeakably beautiful.  I could not help but stop to take a few pictures.  I was after all running ABOVE the clouds.  I can’t think of anything that compares to running above the clouds.  It’s a surreal experience running up and down, up and down those rolling hills for several miles.  The mere perfection of this beauty is simply mind-boggling.
   

At last I made it to the infamous West Horsethief.  What a relief!  I tried, and I tried oh so hard to become one with the land travelling down this difficult trail.  I loosened up; I kicked out the back.  And I did pretty dang good for a while.  Then when the fist-sized boulders set in, I began slipping and sliding.  Perhaps I should have slowed my pace.  But my goal was to keep my pace up down West Horsethief.  During races, I lose time going down this trail.  And I hate to lose time running down hill.  Perhaps I didn’t concentrate or focus hard enough.  I’m not sure.  But after several slips and slides, I finally fell.  Fortunately, I fell on my ass, which has lots of cushion.  After impact, I came down on my right wrist, which caused only minimal pain at first, and then it was over.  Even after the fall, I continued to slip and slide down West Horsethief – big bummer, but what a gigantic adventure! 

Despite this approximate 15 mile difficult terrain, I made it back to the truck with energy to spare.  Unfortunately, I’ve been icing my ankle off and on all night. 

Here’s to a quick healing --  here! here!!

Ready to descend on West Horsethief:

Test Run

I did not take a new pair of shoes out for a test run today.  Unfortunately, no.  I took my feet out for a test run today, more specifically, my right ankle.  I’m done wearing the boot.  But still, I wore one of those stretchy braces beneath my socks.  (I got it filthy with dirt.)

My ankle felt fine running the uphills and flats.  It was those downhills, especially on the way back that added a bit of pain.  My ankle may or may not have been ready for today (I’m going to be optimistic and say it was).  But dang it, I missed the trails badly.  I was actually having dreams that I could not run trails anymore, that I had to turn back on certain trails (that I’ve never seen in my waking life) because they were too hard.  Too hard!!! 

Aside from testing out the ankle, I also worked on a bit of form today as I ran the rolling ridge overlooking Laguna Beach.  One problem with my form has been that I lean my shoulders forward and look to the ground when running up hill.  This posture makes for tense sore shoulders and a reduction in speed.  During this afternoon’s run, I focused on keeping my head up, even with my hips.  And though I occasionally found myself looking down, I was convinced to keep looking forward when doing so I spotted my first rattler of the season.  She was a beauty.

Ready to run myself back into tip-top shape!

It seemed that I actually made eye contact with this rattler as I ran toward her to snap this photo.  She appeared annoyed. (On the way off this single track, I came upon two lovely young, very young ladies, making their way up.  I warned them to be aware, “I just saw a rattler.”  Upon hearing this, they both SCREAMED, and ran back down the single-track.  I felt badly for scaring them and gave the ladies a quick lesson in rattlers, ie, keep aware, give them their space, etc.  I was glad to see the two turn around and make their way back up.

West Ridge:

Top of the World:

The Profile:

Mileage is Low–Okay, Here’s the Plan

Mileage is low for 2013, this after a grand 2012 mileage total (for me that is).  I could give you lots of excuses for this year’s progress.  I won’t do that though.  I am one of those fortunate employees who have an influential boss.  The best thing I’ve got from her so far (& I’m pretty sure there’s more to come) is this:  Don’t give me excuses, give me your plan.  She says this to the seniors and other lower classmen who come to us for credit recovery.  And at age 48, I have so much to learn from this.  Forget the excuses, let’s get a plan.

Here’s my plan:  Run.  And then run some more.  And then run again.  I’ve got the ankle boot off.  I’m wearing a simple wrap-like brace.  I’ll start off slowly with a hike, then after that I’ll go for a run, if pain permits (And pain always permits, doesn’t it? )

I’m not really that concerned about my low mileage.  I know that if I can get this silly injury under control then I can get my training into “full-swing.”

Second to the mileage, I really must change my diet.  I’m not talking drastically.  I seldom eat desert.  I hardly ever indulge in things like chips, cakes and ice cream.  My downfalls are hard candy, cheese and wine, and corn tortillas, and a bit more pasta than I should indulge in.  The plan is simple here.  All I need to do is add more vegetables and a tiny bit more fruits.  That way I will be too full to take in a large quantity of pasta and/or chips, cheese and other indulges.  Wine on the other hand will be more difficult, but not impossible, and not even excruciating. The plan is when everything is accomplished, chores, fitness, children, etc., etc., etc., – that is the only time wine is okay, and even then, just sometimes.  Sweets and other candies, well, I really need to dump these entirely.

Here’s to practicing the remedies to my defaults!!  Hip-Hip-Hurray!

Yes; I am quite silly.

Only Insane People Do This

I’m not running the Harding Hustle ultra at the end of this month, nor did I plan to.  I did however do the Harding Hustle training run this morning.

Why?  Oh, I don’t know.  The camaraderie?   Perhaps.  Emmett was going to be there.  And he was bringing my Hashtravaganza t-shirt.  That was a plus.  With my rolled ankle and a busy, busy work week, I haven’t run since my marathon last Sunday.  Heck, I just thought today was a good idea.  I’d get to sleep in, and the drive was easy.  Nervous about the late start (7 AM), relief settled in when I walked out the door to find the town socked-in.  We’ve been socked-in all week. 

I’m not a big fan of Harding Truck Trail.  It’s 9+ miles up, up, up with little or no shade. Still though, it’s gorgeous.  I saw my friend Emmett and his friend start up the mountain before the rest of us.  That’s when I thought, “I’m outa here.”  I needed all the extra time I could get.  Then my friend Chris saw me take off and I presume thought the same thing.  He was by my side within seconds, and we ran the first five miles together.  I was glad for his company.  His conversation kept my mind off “this fresh hell,” called Harding Truck Trail. 

Actually, the morning was lovely.  Yes, the climb was hard.  But it was the good kind of hard.  The accomplishment kind of hard. Then when Chris turned around, I was on my own for a while, still climbing up.  The words that raced through my mind were, “Only insane people do this!”  And don’t they?  I mean if you do this, you have to admit you are insane.  And if you read this, and want to do this, you are insane as well. 

RD Jessica says a few words to the group:

Chris points out some interesting geological happenings:

Running above the clouds, it heats up some:

Continuing upwards after my company leaves, up ahead, another Harding Hustle trainer (a.k.a insane person):

Normally, my pack doesn’t hold enough fluids to run around 19 miles, especially mountain miles.  Call me stupid, because it was a stupid call, but I thought the cool weather at home would be my saving grace.  After 7 miles up, I knew that I was going to run low.  The downhill though, 9+ miles of downhill wouldn’t need much water. 

I saw Emmett and another runner running down from “Four Corners,” and they told me about a little bit of water that was waiting at the top.  Relieved to finally reach “Four Corners,” I chugged down the remaining water from a jug sitting in the shade.  (I was the last one up the mountain anyhow, no one else would need it after me.)  After a few pictures, I took in some calories and headed down for the trip back. 

I enjoyed some shade at first.  I also enjoyed the lovely flowers and a bounty of butterflies fluttering about.  Relieved that the bumble bees didn’t bother me, I still gave them a cautious eye. 

A cool breeze blew here and there.  I continued drinking when I needed to.  At about mile 11.5, all shade disappeared. 

I tried to hold off a little on the fluids.  But in the end, I decided it was better to drink up now than to pass out now, with water still on my back.  With 5 miles remaining, I was finally out of water.  I continued on running, anxious to get back to the truck where a couple gallons of water awaited me. 

With 3 miles remaining, I saw some hikers with their dog up a ways.  At 1.5 miles remaining, I ran up behind them.  As I passed, the woman (named Marilyn) commented to her brother (Michael) about all the lovely bird chirpings.  She said, “There must be a water source near by.”

To this, I held out my arms and jokingly said, “WHERE . . . ?“

That’s when Michael asked if I needed water.  With a hydration pack strapped to his back, he reached into another bag and handed me a fresh bottle of water.  Can you believe my luck!  I thanked them profusely and ran upward, the one uphill on the way back, drinking that water.  Not twenty-five feet away from the brother and sister hiking team, heat exhaustion, or perhaps the beginnings of dehydration hit.  And it hit like a brick wall.  I felt like I was going to fall to the ground.  I needed to lay down.  All I could think about was causing a spectacle.  I didn’t want to do that to the couple behind me.  So, I slowly lowered myself to the ground.  And I sat.  I had a smile on my face and assured Michael and Marilyn that I would be fine.  After a few minutes, I stood up to prove it.  And man!  I was gonna go down again, so lightheaded was I.  Instead, I leaned over holding my thighs, breathing hard.   I tried to walk onward.  But I couldn’t.  Again, I was back holding my thighs, feeling like I might pass out.  That’s when the two, very kind strangers decided they weren’t leaving.  “Lauren,” Marilyn said, “You’re going to stay with us the remainder of the way.” 

She handed me her walking sticks and we progressed onward.  I had to stop every few minutes and hold myself up so that I wouldn’t fall to the ground.  Michael handed me cold chocolates with orange gel filling.  I ate two of them.  Using the walking sticks, I finally gave them up because gripping the poles only made my hands numb.  Within about a half mile, I could see the parking lot.  I felt A LOT better.  Still, I remained hiking, chatting away with the two about local trails.  Thank God for Michael and Marilyn.  Without them, I would have surely lay down in the road, perhaps passing out.  Without their water, I would have not been able to make it back to the truck. 

It’s humbling to take the aid of strangers.  I hope that I can pay back another stranger some day.  Thank you Michael and Marilyn.  What a day.  Another lesson learned (again and again!).

Total miles run today: 18.77

Total elevation gain: 4,266’