Should Have Turned Back!

I went out for 16 trail miles late this morning.  I was READY.  I had my fluids, my calories.  Hubby was going to pick up the boys from school.  Opting for something semi-different today, I decided on El Moro (the coastal hills in Newport Beach).  Unfamiliar with the trail mileage there, I had only a general plan in mind. 

I ran along a lonely, sunny Bommer Ridge, hopeful for a nice fulfilling run.  I admired the Top of the World across Laguna Canyon.  I looked at Santiago Peak wistfully.  Then I decided to tune-in and look into El Moro Canyon.  That’s when I realized I had missed my trail.  So I turned around and took the first unmarked trail down into Emerald Canyon.  I thought Old Emerald was unmarked, though I wasn’t sure.  But this sure seemed like Old Emerald . . . AT FIRST. 

The trail grew tighter and steeper. And I began to think I had taken the wrong trail.  I broke my own rule concerning situations like this.   I should have turned back.  Oh how I should have turned back. 

Running down what I thought was Old Emerald Trail:

It grew so steep, I slipped and fell.  I had to scoot down over large boulders.  The brush grew thicker  and I found myself sliding, face forward.  And when I landed on my behind, sticks and small branches slipped beneath my shorts and underwear and stabbed my bear butt.  Ouch.

And then I found myself boxed in.  I really, really should have hiked back up to the ridge.  But I was so worn out, I just couldn’t do it.  Big mistake. I followed all forks to discover the brush impenetrable.  Eventually, I spied a trail through the thickness, a trail that I recognized as Emerald Falls (Or maybe it’s called Emerald Canyon).  Either way, it’s a portion of the trail that has been closed for a couple years, so destroyed it was by massive rains.  If only I could get to this trail I could get back on track.  But a large ravine with ten foot walls separated me from this trail, not to mention, massive brush growth. 

I

I managed my way into the ravine, falling of course.  I popped up right away and scoured the area, left and right for a way up to the other side.  There was absolutely NO WAY up.  But I did notice a tree in the distance growing next to the edge.  Holding my handheld with my teeth, I grabbed a branch with both arms, pulled myself up  and climbed the trunk with my legs.  I sat in v-section for a bit to gather my wits.  Then I scooted from the tree to the bank’s edge.  Really.  No lie. 

Popping up after my slide-fall-run into the ravine:

My tree:

Yup, sitting in the tree (got to document it all! : )

Now on the the other side, I’ll tell you – I STILL SHOULD HAVE TURNED BACK.  I was stuck in the midst of a tight thicket.  A thin, thorny vine wrapped me like a cocoon.  “Push through it,” I told myself.  “Push.”  Everything time I tried to break through, the vines tightened and tore at my skin and clothing.  I thought about reaching into the back of my pack to see if I packed my knife.  But I was growing so weary, I didn’t think I could reach back.  I used my hat to push down some of the brush on my right side.  Then struggling, I lifted my right leg high and stomped down on the brush.  I did the same with my left side, and continued on this way until I finally made it to the trail.  I was beat. 

The trails won today.  I don’t usually consider myself playing against the trails.  I play with the trails.  But there are those days like today . . . when I should have turned back!

“Get me the heck home,” was all I could think.  My legs were bloody and scratched.  Welts covered my arms and legs as well.  I wanted so badly to madly sob.  But I really just didn’t have the energy.  The only thing I had the energy to do was run.  I kicked up my feet and ran back up to the ridge and all the way back to my truck, for a total of 8 miles today. 

I’ve been “out of sorts” all day.  Why, why, why, do I break my own rules?  I thought I learned in Texas when I got lost, that I need to turn back and go the same way I came AS SOON AS I REALIZE I’M OFF-TRACK.

It’s not just trail running . . . IT’S AN ADVENTURE!

Finally making it to the trail:

A last glimpse at Santiago Peak:

Just about a mile left:

Too Much Data

Have you ever been talking on the cell phone, while at the same time looking for your cell phone?  I have. 

My sister told me that she once used the landline to call her cell because she couldn’t find it.  Then she ran and answered the cell, “Hello?  Hello?”

I was once telling my friend how I left my keys in the car ignition when I went grocery shopping.  The entire produce section was looking for my keys, because I WAS SURE that I had them in my hands while looking at apples.  My friend told me – that’s nothing!  Then he confessed that when he went golfing he had to go back to his car because he thought he left his keys in them.  Not only did he find his keys in the ignition.  But he car was still running!!!

Are we getting old?  Everyone gets old (and really we’re not THAT old).  Even if we were, I don’t think that’s the culprit here.  I think there’s just too much to think about.  Too much data. 

At least for my brain.

No, this blog is not going where you think it is.  I’m not going to talk about all the high tech shoes and running equipment, and how we have to keep track of our pace, elevation, etc. . .   I’m simply going to say that I took a nice thirteen mile run this morning.  My last run before the storm that’s supposed to come in tomorrow. 

Anyway, I dumped lots and lots of data running trails today.  It was beautiful. 

As I ran down “No-Name,” I felt extremely thirsty.  Lately, I’ve been running with handhelds, and with nothing in my hands this morning, I kind of felt to myself (I didn’t really think words, because I was in NO THINKING MODE this morning), “I can’t wait to get to the ranger station.”  (There’s a drinking fountain there.)  This is how it is in NO THINKING MODE.  I mean, didn’t it dawn on me that it was pretty odd that I didn’t carry water on a ten plus mile run?  Then some voice penetrated through the wall and said, “Ah . . . Lauren, you have 64 fluid ounces on your back.”  I laughed and laughed as I drank up.

And then I ran in the moment for the next thirteen miles.

And now for the pictures of a tranquil trail run in El Moro:

The route:

Running down No-Name Trail toward the Pacific Ocean:

Crossing bridge to run up El Moro Canyon:

El Moro Canyon:

Old Emerald Falls Trail:

About to ascend Old Emerald Trail:

A nice hearty climb on Old Emerald:

Approaching top of Old Emerald:

Running back to reality on Bommer Ridge:

Miles run:  13.61 (21.90 km)

My Own Private Marathon

Had we not lived with only one car for so long, I might never have thought of riding a bus to a trailhead.  Even if I had thought of it, I probably wouldn’t have done it.  I should point out, that we finally have two cars again.  And I should also point out that I love riding the bus, pretty much anywhere.

This weekend I had planned on an 50k, but it wasn’t “in the cards.”  To be truthful, I was feeling a bit jealous reading and hearing about different runners’ marathons and ultras.  And so today, I decided to run my own marathon, one with lots of elevation.  Waking at 5:00 AM, I drank my coffee, dressed, grabbed my pack and ran to the bus stop.  I like to arrive early.  Turns out I was only about two minutes early, so I worried that I missed it, until the bus finally appeared about five minutes late.

Waiting for the bus.  Perhaps I should have run a brush through my hair?  Nah.  I was on my way to a marathon.

The bus was busy this morning.  Many of the riders wore uniforms – hotel and restaurant uniforms, drug store uniforms.  Two riders got on (separately) carrying skateboards.  One rider boarded in my town who I thought I recognized as a Crystal Cove worker one of the first times I rode the bus to this trailhead.   Turns out, Steve and I got off at the same exit again this morning and walked up to the ranger station together.  (Hi Steve, if you’re reading this blog).

I began running in the dark, surprised how many runners and hikers  I came upon early on.  I ran up “No Dogs” and “No Name,” two trails I had to mostly hike about 2 years ago.  This morning I ran them in their entirety as the sun appeared on the horizon. 

The mighty sun shined brightly when I reached Bommer Ridge.  I ran without headphones so that I could eavesdrop on other runners.  One guy passed me running up hill, then two others.  When we all reached the top, the leader said to me, “Did you see how much I beat those guys?”

“Yes,” I said.  “But you all beat me.”  I ran on past them as they rested at the top of the hill.  I heard them running behind me on the flats when I overheard one of them say, “Man, this really SUCKS!”  That made me giggle inside as I turned off onto Fenceline Trail, a lovely warm and sunny single track.

Then I began my descent back down into the canyon and the sun disappeared.

Running back into the mist:

I ran over deer tracks.  And I was alarmed by the tufts of bunny hair scattered about the trail.  Lovely spider webs dangled from the brush like delicate jewels.  Stink bugs scampered across the trail.  I ran East Cut-Away for the first time.  It seemed to be a never-ending climb.  With the mist and clouds I wasn’t quite sure when I was going to finally hit El Moro Ridge, which I would run almost to the top.  Just before reaching the top I ran two of my favorite trails, one of them a delicate, misty single track called “Emerald Falls,” and the other, “Old Emerald Falls,” a treacherous rocky uphill that I took  to hit Bommer Ridge again.  I felt strong, even running up “Old Emerald Falls,” where I gladly hopped to the side to let mountain bikers fly by.  I noticed one of them with blood running down his knees.

Emerald Falls Trail

I wasn’t exactly running fast, this was a marathon after all.  But I still felt physically strong as I ran Bommer, Willow and finally Laurel Canyon out of the park.  “Stair Steps” into Aliso Wood Canyon Parks took my remaining mental strength.  Though my legs still moved onward, I was fatigued.  Not drop-dead kind of fatigued but the “this needs to end soon,” kind of fatigued.   

Glee filled my heart when I finally reached West Ridge.  I ran it to Top of the World and stopped there to refill on water, etc.  I had to move onward quickly.  Time was fleeting, and I couldn’t help but think – if I keep this pace for Saddleback I’m in trouble.   

Laurel Canyon (a gorgeous run!)

Ending Laurel Canyon, about to cross Laguna Canyon Highway and make ascent into Aliso/Wood Canyons Park

Stair Steps Trail

I still had physical strength upon reaching Meadows Trail.  But I consumed no additional calories.  With my headphones on, I ran onward, “Just make it out of the park,” I said to myself.  “Out of the park!!”

Top of Meadows Trail

I ran the streets after exiting Aliso/Wood Canyons Wilderness, UTTERLY fatigued.  I forgot how locate Aliso Summit Trail, asked a stranger for directions.  Upon finally finding the trail, I cut through the brush to catch it, so anxious I was to finish this marathon.  I continued running, wanting, wanting, wanting for this trail to end and my race to finish. 

Aliso Summit Trail ended with a total of 26.38 miles (42.45 km) on my garmin.  I took time to stretch waiting for my family.  I was chaffed raw.  Otherwise, I felt fine.  No cramping.  But I really felt that I sucked, excuse my language, as a runner.  Why did I run out of energy with so much training?  I can answer that now with several hours to rehash the experience. After about 17 miles, I didn’t take in additional calories.  Why?  Because I didn’t feel like eating.  I must learn from this, continue with the calories!!

The good news is, this is the first marathon I ever WON!!!

View of Meadows Trail and Top of the World from Aliso Summit Trail

First placer, placing first in my age group and first overall – Just play along 

Elevation Profile:

I am done

First off, I am not done with physical therapy as hoped.  The hip still aches (though my back is good).  Every time I run or pretty much do any activity, my pelvis rotates forward.  But now I know how to align it by myself.  Secondly, I’ve mentioned already my infected toe.  But I have neglected to write how I came upon that misfortune. 

The exciting history of the toe (left foot, next to pinkie):  It started with a callus, a perfectly normal occurrence with me.  But then I accidentally kicked the sharp corner of an enormously heavy lawyer’s case in my bedroom.  Okay.  That hurt.  BUT THEN, while cleaning out my boys’ closet I swiped that same toe across one of the bows my husband made (as in bow and arrow kind of bow) which put a nice slice in that same toe!

I ignored it.  Because I’m good at that.  I slapped on a Band-Aid, continued to run and limp around afterwards.  Then one day about a week ago, my husband demanded a look and dealt with it – my toe was infected and full of puss.  While I wiggled and hollered, he sliced the bubble of puss open and drained it.  Afterward, I soaked it several times a day in hydrogen peroxide, slapped anti-biotic ointment and a Band-Aid on, and continued to run.

To make a long story a tad shorter, my doctor says it’s called Paronychia.  He prescribed antibiotics and suggested that I not run this morning. 

5:00 AM I was up dressing for a trail run.  I bandaged the toe and was driving to El Moro – Ridge Park for an Emerald Bay run by 5:30 AM.  The fog covered the roads so thick it was distracting.  (I very much dislike driving in thick fog).  The weather was down right cold and gray at the park.  But that was lovely for a run.

We had five in our group today:  Myself, Sheila, Tom, Kelly and newcomer, Boris.  After taking the ridge for a bit, we headed down Emerald Falls Trail for an out-and-back down Emerald Canyon.  There was some bushwhacking, and gorgeous, yet eerily quiet trails.  The beauty immense, I was in a bit of trouble with the aching hip and toe.  By the time we were finished, I made the promise to myself (and out loud to my friends),  I am taking the whole week off from running.  Yes!  That’s what I said.  I’m not going to run until Bulldog.  Sounds crazy to me.  But I’ve got to do it.  So I decided, swimming only.  The P.T. says it will be great for the hip, and it also will do good not to have a shoe rubbing against my toe. 

Running Down Emerald Cyn

Taking in the Scenery

Heading Back on Emerald Falls Trail (One of the few flats back)

A beauty of a web – in person it resembled a piece of crystal art

Back at home again, I was overly cold.  I did my little march to find what I expected.  My right pelvis had rotated forward (down) at least an inch.  I got it aligned, soaked the toe.  A few hours later, still cold, but hip and toe much better, I crawled beneath a blanket and fell asleep for at least an hour.

So, there you have it.  I am done with running to train for Bulldog.  Adding 2 or three more tapered runs isn’t going to do me any good.  I need to get well, or I’m gonna fall flat on my face come next Saturday.

If any of you see me out on the trails – scold me!  You won’t be seeing though.  Like I said, I’m done.

Miles logged 9.75