I Hate Horsethief

I may not look like it in this picture – but I HATE West Horsethief.  I really do.  That trail is a vampire.  It sucks the blood right out of me and leaves me there in the dirt to die.  So, ask me this:  Why did I decide to take on Horsethief in the middle of the afternoon during the summertime?  I have a good explanation for that.  Well, I don’t know how good.  To make it quick, I needed to pick up our youngest son in Wildomar on Sunday.  Just so happens that The Saddleback Mountains separates me from that destination.  Normally, I would have driven around the mountains.  On Sunday, I thought, “Heck – I’ll take a short cut.  I’ll drive to the top of the mountain.  AND, while I’m at the top of the mountain, I’ll run back down into the canyon . . .  then run back up to the ridge – via Horsethief.” 

What the heck!!!

What. Was. I. Thinking?

I knew right away that I was probably in trouble.  I felt miserable at 1:30 PM climbing up The Main Divide in 100+ F degree weather.  And I felt pretty miserable running down Trabuco (because the terrain was so rocky I couldn’t get a foothold!!!).  But it certainly was GORGEOUS.  Trabuco is awesomely beautiful.  Enough to forget about the potential hell that awaited. 

My Beautiful Trabuco:

My real troubles began as soon as I set foot upon Horsethief.  I yearned for shade.  SHADE.  SHADE.  SHADE.  I felt that I could not bear the trek another step.  But I had to.  Had to.  I was in a canyon with no way out, but UP.  I pretty much hated every second of it.  But I plugged forward, else fall down in the dirt and cry.  Hell, I tell you!  Hell.  When I finally reached a bit of shade, there were no branches strong enough to lean against and hold me up.  I tried to hunch over and grab my knees.  But my hands just flew off my knees from the sweat.  Finally, I just decided that in order to cool off, to stop my insides from boiling over on this ridiculous incline, I needed to stop and  SIT in the shade.  And this is what I did.  I sat until I could feel my body temperature decline.

And then, I finally made it.  I reached The Main Divide.  I wasn’t giddy, and I wasn’t elated.  Instead, I bushwhacked my way  to the water stash.  I was so grateful to find the stash was still there.  Thing was, the tarp was thrown off and the tens of gallons were exposed to the hot heat.  After washing my face in HOT water, I poured a jug over my head.  And then I filled my pack with this hot water.  I didn’t mind taking the time to put the tarp back over the water.  I was in no hurry to continue on.  Eventually, I took off on The Main Divide in sopping wet clothes, but thankfully with a body temperature declining. 

As the gnats swarmed my face, I caught a clear glimpse of Lake Elisnore.  Not far from the lake, our youngest son played, joyfully I’m sure, with his friend at his nearby home in Wildomar.  I couldn’t wait to get there.  But move, I could hardly manage.  I ran the flats and I ran the downhills.  I didn’t run quickly though.  And I didn’t even much look at my garmin for pace.  Misery.  This is what I was training for.  How many more steps?  Don’t think about that.  Just one foot in front of the other, and then I will be done . . .

That took FOREVER.  But I made it.  Indeed I did.  

When I drove home that evening, I drove around the mountain instead of up and over.  I was done with mountains for the day! 

Harding Truck Trail

Yay!  The boys are finally off school for the summer.  And it took long enough!  Really.  This had to be the longest school year ever.  EVER.  I celebrated on Thursday by tip-toeing out of the house while everyone still slept and drove to Modjeska Canyon for a run up Harding Truck Trail.  I didn’t want to do it.  It was the last thing I wanted to do.  Seriously.  But I knew that all I had to do was get my feet going up that monster climb, and if I just put one foot in front of the other that I’d eventually reach the top of that 9.32 miles.  And in the end I’d be happy.  Happy and dead-dog-tired. 

I arrived to the top of Harding Truck Trail (Four Corners) five minutes sooner than I did when I last ran this trail.  I’ll take it.  Five minutes isn’t much, but at least my time was not slower.  I really made up my time on the down hill portion when I forced a strong 9 mile finish, completing the entire 19.64 miles thirty minutes quicker than usual.    This was tough.  I know it’s all downhill.  But it’s rocky and hot and my water was running low – this on top of having just ran over nine uphill miles. 

The Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary was open when I arrived at the bottom.  I rushed inside to purchase a cold water and Diet Coke.  So wiped out was I that I possessed no strength to “stand” in line.  And so I sat on the floor, sweaty and hot, my eyes stinging from salt, as I waited to pay.  

Wow.  These are the days!

Mentally Sensitive

I got out for some trail miles this morning under wonderfully dark and gloomy skies.  The weather was muggy, but a little cool as well.  I struggled once again up Mentally Sensitive – it’s not getting any easier (not yet anyway).   The best thing was:  I made it to the top!

Total miles run:  10.66 (17.2 km).  My guess was 10.8 miles.  My guesses seem to be getting further and further away.  It must be all that Mentally Sensitive stuff is making my brain mush.

The deceitful Mentally Sensitive Trail:

And then the Going Gets Tough:

Time to Run

For the first time in a long time, I got my first run in on the first day of the week. I managed this because, though my boys are still in school, my week break between spring and summer sessions is this week.  Yay!  Aside from a six hour meeting on Friday, and getting the boys off to school for their last days, I have lots of time for chores and more time to run .

Monday was slightly an experiment in running for me.  I’ve cut back my calorie intake significantly because I am really starting to fret upcoming events in September and October.  For one thing, it would be nice to fit back into my preferred running clothes.  And for another thing, I will perform much better carrying around less weight come fall.   The experiment was how I would weather moderately difficult trails. 

The verdict – I believe at the moment my calorie intake is probably too low to take on tough terrain.  Though I only ran ten miles, I had some good climbing.  With that climbing I experienced a great deal of muscle fatigue.  And I also felt light-headed. 

Aside from my experiment of sort – even a bad day out on the trails is a good day.  I spooked three deer while running a heavily wooded single track.  And they spooked the heck out of me. For some reason, my internal reasoning was delayed, and it took me several seconds to register what kind of animal was running across my path.  Later, in the canyon, I ran up on what I thought was one deer.  Lo and behold, I got to catch a glimpse of another and two baby deer.  One of the babies had white spots all over his back, just like Bambi.  I also crossed many snake paths, but did not see one of them.  But I did get to witness a small bird attacking a larger bird in flight.  The larger bird had something in its beak that the little one tried ferociously to get at, to no avail.  But the larger bird did drop some of his bounty and I could see that it probably was some kind of nesting material, shreds of things like paper and straw. 

Notice the deer through the trees:

A stop in the shade going up Meadows Trail:

Miles run:  10.03

I’m looking forward to amping up my runs. 

Stay tuned.

Almost Over

I feel like I’ve been running an ultra, the finish line is in sight, AND I JUST CANNOT TAKE ANOTHER STEP. I don’t feel this way from running though – I’m talking about the end of the school year, and I don’t feel like I have it in me to cross the finish line. The boys are ALMOST, ALMOST finished. My grade-schooler is as good as finished. But my middle-schooler and high-schooler have their noses to the grind, pumping out projects and studying for finals. My night job (adult education) is in its final week. And I’ve been taking more substitute teaching assignments than usual because it’s all coming to an end. But I AM SOOOOO TIRED. Just. A. Little. Bit. Longer. Take one more step. And then another. And then another.  This is what I tell myself when I’m running.  Hopefully it will work for this.

I have time to make quick stops at the gym. Very little time for the trails. I do have two trail runs to report this week. First, on Sunday, I took a practice run on twenty miles of the 50k race I’m running in four weeks. Though not a technical course, it’s a tough course. A LOT OF UPHILL (For that matter, a lot of downhill too, but the uphill is so relentless, that by the time it’s downhill time, I’m pooped).

On Sunday, I packed a great deal of water, as I’ve gotten myself in trouble on these very trails before. In all I carried 110 fluid ounces. Seventy of those were in my pack bladder, the remaining I carried mostly on my back. Thank goodness I don’t have to carry that extra water weight during the race. On Sunday, my back ached so much by the time I reached my turnaround point, I broke down and took two ibuprofen. I also cut open beneath the mouth of my plastic water bottles so that I could pour the still frozen water chunks into my bladder and carry the fluids in a centralized location. This made a huge difference comfort-wise on the downhill portion. On the bad side, it took me 6 hours to travel twenty miles. Granted, on race day, I will probably move faster. But as usual, I will need to move A LOT faster. On the good side, I came in on those twenty miles feeling strong. Back at home, I didn’t even take a nap.  Oh!  And I ran up on two snakes on Harding Truck Trail during this run – a ribbon snake (garter snake?) and a gopher snake.

Report 2, today (Thursday) I hit the trails for a 12.50 mile run that I had no business running.  I have absolutely no time for this!  I didn’t have a sub job though, so damn the laundry and damn the dishes.  They can wait until after I cross the finish line!  (Tell that to the boys who had to scrounge around for underwear this morning – because today I also had a small report to write for a six hour meeting I’m attending tomorrow, attendance to record and print for June, a timecard to complete, Vacation Bible School registration to complete, a son to coach in Spanish, and a three hour testing lab to run at the Adult School, etc., etc., etc.,).  And so I ran anyway!

A helicopter hovered close to the ground at the get-go in Aliso Canyon.  It had border patrol colors (green and white), so my guess was they were looking for someone.  Either that, or they were just running maneuvers.  The noise got a little annoying at times though – and it did seem they were looking for something or someone, as the helicopter flew so close I could see the passenger leaning out and looking toward the ground.  And as I gleefully ran along the dusty trail, I got to thinking about how stupid this was if the helicopter was Border Control, that the U.S. would leave the borders so easily crossable and then hunt people who cross illegally inside the borders as if they were animals or hardened criminals.  I mean, come on!  If it’s that important that you spend so much manpower and money to hunt people down, why not make it more difficult to cross?  Ah . . .  off subject, I guess.  Immigration is a huge and controversial subject here in California.  Regardless of my views on the matter, I hate this hunting down of people.  Hate. It.  And I had PLENTY of time to think about it as this helicopter swept down low into the valley for HOURS today.  Seriously, hours.  (Do note that it’s only my speculation over what they were doing – but we all know here that green and white is Border Control.  Just sayen).

SO!  I “ran” up Mentally Sensitive as the helicopter continued to hover about.  And I found time to smile despite that trail’s retched incline. 

And then I smiled tenfold as I ran along Top of the World and saw this baby goat.  I so wanted to hop the electrified fence and take him for my own.  But alas, I ran on because time was running short, and I still had so much to do.

And then, silly, crazy me, I decided to lengthen my loop (originally planned on 10.75 miles) for a 12.50 mile loop.  Why?  All because I wanted to run down RockIt which is a huge challenge, even on the downhill.  It’s steep in some parts, and so unevenly rocky, that I find it quite difficult to gain any speed.  Still I try.  And try I did.  And I didn’t even fall on RockIt.  I fell on Coyote Run Trail.  Flat on my butt.  Serves me right.    I really had no business putting in a 12+ mile trail run today anyway. 

More Stats

Got out late this morning, but ever so grateful because I’ve been working more than usual, leaving little time for morning runs. 

The stats: 

Miles run: 10.03 (16.14 km)

Elevation gained:  1,253 ft (382 m)

The pics:

Entering Meadows:

My “Everything’s-Everything’s-Gonna-Be-Alright-Bridge (because if I make it to here, chances are very good that I’m surviving the run ):

Top of the World:

Robber’s Cave:

The Devil Wears Cholla Cactus

Okay, I’m wondering if the English translation for Cholla is SATAN.  I’ve come across many things on the trail, and I’ve learned to stay away from many of those things – like say for example, Stinging Nettle. You would have thought by now, I would have learned about Cholla Cactus, AKA Jumping Cholla.  I have after all, run Cholla Trail on countless occasions.  But I have only admired this treacherous plant from afar.  That is, until Tuesday morning. 

There I was, minding my own business, running along Aliso Creek Trail in Aliso Canyon and I passed by a Cholla in bloom.  It has such a lovely (deceitful) flower.  I stopped and went back to snap a photo.  I took one from afar, then I pushed in close, stepping beneath the lower branches for a close-up.   

I stepped away oblivious to what had transpired beneath the bush.  But I realized right away with the first step that I took.  Ouch!  It felt like needles were poking the bottom of my foot.  I glanced down to see that I had stepped on a fallen Cholla branch.  And I could not kick it off.  After some attempts using my other foot, I managed to break the branch away.  What remained were dozens of Cholla thorns penetrating the soles of my shoes – poking ALL THE WAY THROUGH the insoles.  I could not take another step without prickly pain.  AND my attempts at releasing the thorns were futile.  They poked quick and deep into my fingertips, drawing immediate blood.  I took a rock and tried to shave off the Cholla thorns.  But that only broke them at the surface, still leaving them deep in my shoe.  Finally, I found a thick branch that I used to pry the suckers out of my shoes. 

STILL!  One little thorn dug into my forefoot after I put my shoe back on and tried to run.  After unlacing them two or three more times and trying to dislodge the unseen thorn with my bloody fingers, I sat at the side of the trail nearly beaten.  Forty-five minutes already wasted dealing with these demons, I whimpered a bit before pulling myself back in the game.  “It’s just an obstacle,” I told myself.  “Figure out a way!” 

When I walked I could not feel the thorn.  When I ran, it jabbed hard into my forefoot.  Obviously, it was buried beneath the insole padding.    So instead of finding the little sucker, I decided to crush the little it where it hid.  With a rock and some spirited anger, I smashed down into my insole, then laced up my shoes once more.  Success.  Obstacle defeated.  I was off again, for a shorter run then planned, with a loop totaling 8.39 miles (I guessed 8.4!!)

I am certain to never stop anywhere near a Cholla cactus again. Never, ever, ever!