With Focus, But Without Fear

If I had remembered our recent big rains, I would have jumped out of bed this morning to head for the mountains.  Instead, I woke groggy, sorely tempted to call off today’s run, or at the very least, postpone it to later in the day.  As it was, two of my boys are spending the night away.  I wanted to be back from my run before they left.  And so, I set off preparing for my mountain run at 5:00 AM.  (It wasn’t 5 minutes later that I felt fully awake).

I’ll cut to the most important aspects of today’s run along my 14 mile loop.  First off, the wind strongly blew in and out of the canyon in long, cool bursts.  The sound of it rustling through the trees was delightful and moved me onward nearly effortlessly.  Also, the water roared along Trabuco Creek, which was brim full (well, not actually brim, but a heck of a lot fuller than bone-dry, like it’s been for so long).  It was all very fair-tale like.  I didn’t really begin to “feel” the run until I got out of this forest and headed up the giant switchback named Holy Jim.

The five mile trip up Holy Jim was peaceful.  It was cool.  And the time flew by after a fellow adventurer caught up with me from behind.  (Mark, whom I have met before – once on The Main Divide on my way to Santiago Peak, and the first time many years ago, in my house at my oldest son’s five-year-old birthday party).  Today, I marched up much of Holy Jim exchanging fun (often hilarious) wilderness stories with Mark.  It’s amazing to me how the major themes among endurance runners/hikers are so similar among us (injury stories, getting lost, encounters – so much fun to learn). 

We continued on at the same pace on the Main Divide.  Just before reaching Santiago Peak, Mark took off ahead to close up the same loop that I was running – Holy Jim/West Horsthief.  I didn’t see him again after that.  But I did see his footprints.  That’s something I notice nowadays – footprints – mine and others.  (More than once I’ve needed to rely on footprints to find my way back).

 The Main Divide Overlooking Lake Matthews:

Running alone down West Horsethief, I came upon two or three groups of hikers struggling up that wretched climb. I also fell not once, BUT THREE TIMES during the rockiest portions.  Each fall was more like a slow motion slip.  Each time, I landed on my rear.  And each time, I fell at the exact moment where I grew timid and slowed on the rocks.    The best way to traverse down tricky hills is with tiny steps and loosely.  Loosely is the key for me – I must run West Horsethief carefree, with focus, but without fear.  Actually, this plan will work best for any trail. 

Happy trails. 

Today’s route:  Holy Jim/The Main Divide/West Horsethief, Trabuco.  14.06 miles.  Weekly goal of 45 miles:  Achieved!

The Cost of Trail Running

Day 25 of my Fitness Streak, it appears I’m getting my running legs back.  Right now, I’m darn near ready to crash and sleep.  My lids are so heavy, I’m not even sure what I’m typing.

I decided for a change of scenery this morning and headed off to Newport Coast.  I took the toll road and made an effort to look at the toll cost as I drove through the sensor.  One way cost me $6.75.  Yikes!  Double that for the entire trip and that’s a good chunk to add to the cost of today’s trail run.  This hardly fazed me.  I learned early on, that despite my initial thoughts, running is not free – especially trail running.  Seems like I’m constantly forking out cash for small ticket items and large – fuel (like gels, bars), electrolytes, hats, sunglasses, athletic tape, pack, pack essentials like pepper spray, etc., etc.  The cost is worth it though – what I get in return is priceless.  

At about mile 3, heading down to the ocean:

A quick stop at the beach:

Heading back up El Moro Canyon back to Bommer Ridge to complete today’s loop:

9.67 miles of happy times:

No Junk Miles Here

I have been sleeping quite well lately.  Good riddance insomnia!  At this moment though, I am so tired, almost too tired to make a running blog entry.  Perhaps I’d write a better entry if I slept on it. 

Nah. 

I really don’t have much to tell.  If I believed in junk miles, today’s 9.76 miles would qualify.  But I don’t believe in junk miles.  All miles are worthwhile to me.  Today however, they were hard as hell.  My pace was sluggish.  My attitude was not exactly positive.  It wasn’t negative, merely struggling to wrap itself around some changes I want to make (thinking-wise).  Onward I ran, sweaty and salty along the ridge overlooking the Pacific Ocean.  I only half-heartedly worked at increasing my speed.  The only reason that I trudged through today’s run anxiety-free was because I know that another day will bring better, more comfortable miles. 

Stretching the plantar fascia at Top of the World in Laguna Beach:

I think someone forgot to take down the sign :

Approaching the bottom of Meadows Trail which is now turning green for spring :

The flat part of Meadows – only 3.5 miles to go.  Yay!!!:

9.76 miles run.

Route:  (Aliso/Wood Canyons) Cholla, West Ridge, Meadows, Wood Canyon

Tiny Adventures

I guess last week was “Easy” week in my hard-hard-easy weekly plan.  Now that the sun shines and the streets are dry, yet the local trails are all closed, I took to a run-about in the locality.  I was happy to do it.  In fact, I went to sleep last night day-dreaming about this run.  My plan was to run down to the beaches, then hop onto the bike trail, run it into San Juan Capistrano and make my way to Arroyo Trabuco, where I’d run until time ran out. 

First off, I over dressed.  Not three miles in and I had a long-sleeved shirt tied around my waist.  AND THEN, my legs did not want to move this morning.  My muscles were not sore.  I could easily “catch my breath.”  Foot pain was minimal (only a minor ache).  My legs just felt heavy, in rebellion.

View of the Pacific Ocean (with the harbor opening at right):

The San Juan Creek bike trail, which I had always called the “riverwalk,” until I started running mainly on trails (Saddleback Mountains in background):

Crossing the bridge over Trabuco Creek just before it dumps into San Juan Creek:

I rather imagined that I’d feel my groove and ecstatically enjoy this  run, rather than trudging through it.  Surely, I’d feel it by the time I reached The Los Rios District.  Perhaps that may have happened if I had not had to take the detour just past the Trabuco Creek bridge.  That detour took me up onto the loud, crowded streets.  All this too however, was still an adventure.  Running is always an adventure, whether or not I’m running trails or streets.  There’s little adventures, big adventures, gargantuan adventures.  Today was a tiny adventure.  I nodded “hello” to a lama.  I ran alongside two trains.  I’m sure I tripped at least once.  And I saw dozens and dozens of people driving about in the busy-ness, while I ran onward thoughtlessly. 

Running up on the train depot at the edge of The Los Rios District:

At about mile 4.5, I arrived to Trabuco Trail where my feet delighted at the feel of soft dirt beneath them.  My destination, Arroyo Trabuco laid no more than three miles away.  Though I still had not achieved my groove, I was happy to run today, so that I can run later. 

The views of the San Juan Capistrano hills reminded me how much I enjoy this area.  About thirty years ago, I rode a train through here on the way to San Diego. I looked out the windows at the same hills and said to my then boyfriend, now husband, “I want to live here.”  

San Juan Creek Trail just outside of downtown San Juan Capistrano:

I could hear the roaring water way before I could see it.  San Juan Creek pounded down on the concrete floor just below the train tracks.  A fine mist sprayed my face.  For months and months, if not years, I have been able to run across this concrete creek bed.  It’s been dry.  Today, it thwarted my destination.  I could not find a way across the creek without getting wet.  The one passage I could find did not look safe – just before dumping into the pool, the only exposed boulders had no flat surface and were drenched.  I certainly didn’t want to run across and get my feet wet.  Nor did I want to chance falling on the wet, slippery surface.  Most other days, sure, I might take a chance or run in wet shoes.  Today, nah.  My legs were shot anyway.  Best to count my blessings for being able to put in today’s miles.  

And that’s just what I did on this tiny adventure.  I turned around and ran back the same way that I came in. 

12.07 miles run. 

A Break in the Rain

The rain arrived.  It arrived early this morning about 3AM.  I loved the sound of the rain hitting our roof as we nestled in our beds, warm and cozy.  Unlike newer homes, our home (built in 1947) is not sound proof.  We don’t need to look outdoors to see if it’s raining.  We can hear it falling.  I rather like listening to it. 

So, word is, that we’ll continue with a series of storms until Sunday night.  Thunder storms.  If the next few days are anything like today’s “storm,” I’ll have plenty of time to get in my miles. 

Rain fell fairly lightly today.  And then, it broke about noon.  That’s when I quickly changed my plans to fitting in a quick run.  I laced up my trusty New Balance “trail” shoes and headed out the door for a road run.  I noticed quite a few runners and cyclists had the same idea – get out there when you can. 

The skies were blue and beautiful, the air was crisp.  I didn’t even feel cold.  My slow pace was faster than my trail pace.  And I do believe my overall pace is gradually increasing (yay!  Almost time for speed training).

No rain has fallen since the break at noon.  With the onslaught expected over the next few days, it will be challenging to get in my remaining 20+ miles. 

Miles run:  5.33 (8.58 km)

Know Thyself

The only thing I wanted to do when I woke this morning was go back to sleep.  For a fleeting moment, I considered chucking my running plans and returning to bed after dropping the boys off at school.  But I knew that with the impending rain, I would regret not running today.  Still, maybe the rain wouldn’t come.  Just maybe.  

First off, I knew the rain would come.  Secondly, I know myself.  I know that if I just got into the truck, I’d feel better about running.  And if I didn’t, I’d feel better about running as I ran through the windy canyon.  And if I still didn’t, I’d feel better after climbing to the ridge and looked out over the miles of trails I’d covered.    Worst case scenario (or best), I would be happy finishing up the run.  I can’t remember a time that I ever regretted going for a run.  I know this much about myself.

It was a BEAR climbing Mentally Sensitive.  But, oh what a sight of the Saddleback Mountains!

Still smiling, even after having to stop to deep stretch an aching plantar fascia:

My Time in Eden

Sunday:

Holy Jim / West Horsethief Loop:  14 miles (22.5k):