Big Baz San Juan 50k–Finisher : )

I could certainly write a book about this race.  But I’ll try to keep it brief (ha!)  First off, I’m so dang happy that I finished.  This is one tough, tough, course.

My main goals were to stay uninjured and to finish.  I kept my pace a little slower than the past Big Baz races.  And I followed my husband’s advice which was “don’t think” because that’s when I lose the mental battle.  And I followed runner Chris Diaz’s advice:  think of this race as two different races – run the first one (the hilly out and back down to the highway 19.5 miles) and don’t even think about the second race until I’m there!

Baz’s Race Instructions

That first ten miles were wonderful – cool and shady.  I crossed several streams rock hopping to keep my feet dry.  Then finally toward the bottom, I had to walk through nearly knee deep COLD water, which meant that I had to walk through it again on the way back – which in turn also meant that I didn’t care anymore about wet feet and stomped through most streams if I had to spend too much time finding a route.

The frontrunner passed me on my mile 7.   The second place passed me at 7.3 miles.  They were SIX miles ahead of me.  A little later, Michelle Barton (an amazing runner, IN MY AGE CATEGORY) passed me on this out-and-back portion at mile 7.83.  She yelled out to me, “You’re a rockstar.”  All those front runners were amazingly supportive.  One of the things I love about trail runners – they are not snobs.

I took plenty of pictures in those first ten miles.  I was trying to remain cool, that is calm – I didn’t want to lose my head.  No negativity.  No I can’t’s

Amazing Beauty During the First Ten Miles (which happens to be the 2nd ten miles also)

Sadly one runner broke his wrist on that first ten miles.  And as far as I know, 4 runners dropped out on that segment.   I reached that first full aid station at ten miles (there was a “water only” at mile 5) feeling very strong.  About 8 other runners mingled about.  Almost every one was bloody or cut up in some way.  I felt lucky for catching myself on a few trips.

A few of us were gently scolded for not drinking enough water.  When one of the aid workers pulled out my reservoir, she said, “You’ve hardly drinken enough water!!”  Most of us said we didn’t need a refill, but Steve Harvey (from Old Goat Trail Races) said that none of us were taking off without full bladders.  And so I topped off, put some potato chips in my pocket, grabbed an orange slice and a quarter peanut-butter & jelly sandwich and took off. All my layers by now were off and packed in my bag.

Rick, Me And Lori at Ten Mile Mark

Miles ten through twenty were tough, mostly a climb out of the long ten mile mainly downhill I had just run.  I ran completely by myself.  I didn’t hear or see any of the runners that I left back at the aid station.  Trail races are like that.  A runner can actually be 30 seconds behind you, and you never see them. 

Eventually I saw a man up ahead.  The sun was scorching by now.  He was making his way, but seemed to be struggling some.  He was in sight several times for a while.  Though I wasn’t trying to pass him, because I wasn’t racing anyone (I only wanted to finish), I did gain on him.  And then . . . AND THEN I tripped on a rock as I ran.  I caught myself from falling, but my momentum ran me straight off the trail down a steep incline (almost a cliff!).  In a split second I knew that I had to change my direction or I was going to tumble (not in a fun way) down the mountain.  I am still amazed how many things go through my mind in a single moment.  Somehow, while falling down that mountain, I changed my direction and slammed myself into the face of the slope.  My right knee hit first, then my body cramped up.  With my body cramping, I began slowly sliding down the mountainside, through thickets with tiny thorns scraping along my arms. 

I was in utter disbelief and yelled out “Oh my God.  Oh my God.”  I don’t know why I said that.  Remember this all happed in a matter of probably 1 or 2 seconds.  Well, my yelling alerted the runner ahead of me.  He ran down and lifted me up and back onto the trail.  Bill was his name.  Definitely my hero of this race.  I had tiny hair like thorns covering my arms.  But I was okay.  Bill on the other hand had terrible bloody scrapes on his right arm and leg from his own accident some time earlier.  I thanked him profusely and told everyone I met about Bill and what he did for me, even in his pain.  

I continued on to the “water only” aid at mile 15, poured ice cold water over my arms.  I also gulped up some, but didn’t refill.  I didn’t refill, because my pack still felt pretty heavy.  I figured I had enough water to make it to mile 20. 

For the next 5 miles, I stopped twice to “ice” my torn up knee in the ice-cold streams.  I didn’t see Bill anymore.  But I did see another runner.  He passed me by out of no where.  I wish I would have got his name (I would be seeing him a lot the remainder of the race).  He was extremely friendly and helpful, offering Tylenol, calories, water.  I told him that I was good, then not 30 minutes later, I was OUT OF WATER.  The extra weight from my shirt, gloves and hat had fooled me into thinking that I had more water than I thought.  Mind you, this was the hottest day in months!.  I had 3 miles remaining to the next aid, and I needed water badly.  I tried to bring my energy level down some.  Last thing I wanted was heat exhaustion.  Those last 3 miles moved by extremely slow, as I practically stared at the garmim to see “how many miles before I get water.”

Before the next station, I passed my car and I took the time to throw all my layers in.  And guess what I saw???  A half a bottle of water!!!  Heaven.  I grabbed it, and guzzling it down made it on into the 19.5 mile aid station.  I met up with several other runners.  I later found that all those runners dropped.  Michelle Barton was snapping photos.  She was already finished with the race! 

I filled my pack with water and my water bottle as well, and took off for the “next race”.  The long climb up San Juan Trail was pretty difficult, especially with 8 or so other runners running down it to finish up the race.  I had another twelve miles or so to run!  Every single one of those runners were supportive with thumbs up or “way to go.” 

Trabuco Trail was extremely rocky for many miles.  I focused hard on not falling.  There were 2 other runners that I would continue to see for the last ten miles – a younger woman (Felicia) and that extremely supportive guy that I didn’t get his name!!

I fell off the log as I walked it to cross Trabuco stream, but wasn’t hurt.  And even though Horsethief was a matter of feet away, I refused to think about it.  As expected, Horsethief was pure hell.  It was hot and I took it slowly.  But I knew what lay ahead, and that helped.  Just put one foot in front of the other, I told myself.  When I caught up with Felicia, I felt badly for her, being that this was her first time of the trail.  She was where I was 2 weeks ago.  When she asked how much longer I felt sad telling her.  I looked at my watch and said, “about twenty-five minutes.”  She didn’t have a hat (just a visor) and couldn’t cool down.  Having suffered from heat exhaustion myself, I told her that she HAD to cool down.  She didn’t have anything to cover her head.  I suggested she pour some water on her head and find some shade and stay there until she cooled down.  Turned out there was a piece of shade right there.  She took my advice and I took off getting her name so I could tell the next aid to expect her.  She told me to tell them that she’s alright and that she wants to finish (And she did finish!).

A Rocky Trabuco Trail

Breathtaking Views Behind Me Going Up Horsethief

Anyway, when I reached the Main Divide, I met up with the helpful guy.  I refilled on water and we both took off with a mere six miles to go.  We pretty much ran in together, together meaning – I was in front, he was in front, back and forth, until he finally whizzed by me, gaining quite a bit of distance crossing the finish line probably a good 15 minutes before me (not sure, just guessing). 

I crossed the finish line exhilarated!  I was almost in disbelief – I had finished a 50k trail race!!  Awesome.  This is definitely a before/after point in my life. 

88 runners registered for the San Juan 50k.  86 started, 69 finished. 

Thanks to all – those on the trails and those on the blogs.  Couldn’t have done this without you and . . .

Can’t do this without a video

: )

She’s a Two-Timer

That’s right.  I am!  Even though I broke up with the pavement some time ago.  I have been seen running around around with pavement a few times since.  One of them today.  But I have an excuse.  I had little time to run, and with the way my schedule’s working this week, I needed to run today.   To tell you the truth.  I was looking forward to meeting with my old friend pavement.  It’s kind of nice to run straight out the front door.

Firstly, I had to find some road shoes.  The first pair I pulled from the beneath the bed, though the same brand, were both for the left foot (apropos, I thought).  Searching more, I found a right and left shoe (of the same brand again underneath the head of my bed.  (I’d say it’s time to go through the shoes again )

Though I ran pavement today, I took to the inclines, which meant some fast long declines as well.  And I saw some new things, it’s been so long since I’ve run the streets of my seaside town.

I ran over a new walkway above The Strands (a local beach) with these fish mosaics (dozens of them).

And I found new beach access down to The Strands (this once secluded beach now has three delightful access points, all beautifully landscaped.  But what goes down, must come up – I know the saying goes the other way, but with running, I’m always thinking as I run down, yikes, I gotta run back up!)

A View of the The Strands

After running up another set of stairs, I thought I’d investigate the road further, see if I found something else new.  And like a dog, I sniffed out a trail.  Well, kinda a trail.  Yes, it was a trail, more of the headlands trail system that the city has put in.  Notice the fence below that lines the entire trail system to keep runners and hikers in check.  The sight is way to gorgeous to complain.  I just think a more rustic looking fence might have fit better.

This trail meanders around the headlands overlooking the Pacific and comes out at a brand new building, some sort of headlands information building, where I promptly tripped on the pavement where it met the dirt.  I tripped hard too.  I thought surely I was going down.  My body was practically parallel with the earth.

No Worries.  I was able to add one fall to my fall count today nonetheless (LOL).  I came out overlooking the harbor and ran a path and bridge that travels along the cliff.  And while running UPSTAIRS.  Yup.  Upstairs.  I fell.  It was a soft fall.  No harm.  That’s ten to date though (3 for pavement, 7 for trails?).

I’m sure to visit pavement again.  Can you believe how lucky I am?  When probably a third of the country is covered in snow, I stand above in shorts (sweating) overlooking blues skies and the great Pacific.

Miles logged this morning: 6.53 + this afternoon, 1 mile with my son = 7.53

Dana Point Marina below

Running with a Straight Pelvis : )

Physical therapy update:  First, I don’t think I ever really posted details of the car accident and how I got injured.  Father’s Day, I was at a dead stop, and heard the accident happening behind me.  I wasn’t sure if we had been hit, because everything happened slow motion and I was confused by the crash sounds.  Anyway, I twisted around to my right to check on my boys in the back seat.  At that moment we got slammed.  It was that twist that did me in.  My whole right side was sore pretty much immediately.  It seems that the impact realigned my pelvis, where one side was higher than the other.  Neck, shoulder and side pain went away in a matter of days.  But that lower back, pelvis/hip pain did not.  So, back to the update on the physical therapy.  When I went in yesterday, my PT said that my pelvis was perfectly straight.  How it is that all those stretches, massages and exercises made it straight again, I do not know.  So – good news!! (My boys by the way thankfully – no injuries!)

This morning I went for a single loop, clockwise at Aliso Wood Canyons park.  That meant running UP Meadows Trail.  Tom met me at the ranger station and we ran up Meadows together.  It was tough!  My hip felt it before we even made the climb (I think it probably wasn’t the best idea to run up Meadows the day after physical therapy).

The sun really shined down on us as made that seemingly never-ending switch-back climb.  Arriving at the top we could not even see the Pacific due to thick fog.  A rainbow-like arch  hovered about the fog and above that, blue skies.

Tom ran back down Meadows Trail for a six mile out and back.  I continued onward for a little less than twelve miles.  After a short downhill then uphill asphalt run, I hopped onto the trail that runs behind the houses at Top of the World.  The trail makes a “V” – first a steep down, then a steep up.  Two cyclists made their way down the other end of the “V” as I ran up it.  Then suddenly, one of the cyclists ate it.  His bike crashed to the rock trail, making such a noise, I thought his bike would be shattered to pieces for sure (but it did not appear so).  Even though it wasn’t my accident, it seemed to happen in slow motion, just about fifteen feet away.  The poor guy flew to the ground, I gasped, relieved that his face didn’t smash into the rock.  He jumped up quickly. 

“Oh my gosh!!!”  I said.  “Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at me.  Instead, I could tell he was pissed.  I knew that look – it’s how I have felt when I’ve fallen on the trail – like, damn it, I can’t believe I did that!

His friend behind him said, “Seriously, are you ok?”  No answer.  I continued running on past the two and didn’t say a word further. 

I got into my groove as I ran through the neighborhoods, arriving at Westridge a short time later.  I felt happy, relieved to have Meadows over with.  It was all basically down hill from here (except for minor climbs on Westridge).

About to descend upon Westridge

 

 Westridge, just after passing Mathis

Miles logged this morning: 11.65  Despite my hip, it seemed like a cinch compared to Saturday’s 21 mile run. 

Random Thoughts Re: Falling on the Run

Trail falls, or any fall for that matter, well, they're not fun!  I laugh that I even have experience enough to talk about the subject.  As a child, falls weren't so bad.  I got these "cool" scabs on my knees that I picked off piece by piece.  As a child, the distance to the ground wasn't that far (even from a tree branch it didn't seem that far).  And for some reason, impact didn't jolt me so much (that's probably because less weight impacts the ground at a lesser force -- who knows, I'm no physicist : )

These are my thoughts on falls (I haven't gone back and checked, but I believe at last count, my falls while running totalled nine . . . NINE).  

1)  Falling on cement is way, way, way worse than falling on the trail. 

2)  You must roll with your fall. What I mean by a roll is to somehow at impact, roll to the left or right onto your side.  It just happens with me, there's not enough time to plan it.  If I hit the ground directly with no roll, then I'm injuried FOR SURE.
 

3)  A fall  on the downhill is much worse than on the uphill.  And it's harder to get in that roll on a flat surface -- but doable.

4)  Falls happen when I'm most giddy, like when I can see the end of a long, difficult run.  I remember one case (Bulldog 25K), when I caught site of the youth detention center in the distance. I knew then that I was homeward bound.  I got so giddy, that I took one of my worst spills to date.  (I actually scared the runners around me who swarmed above in a frantic way to help -- I felt badly for putting them through that : )

5)  The first thing that goes through my mind when I'm falling is:  "OMG.  I can't believe that I'm falling!!!"  It's quite frankly amazing how much more goes though my mind in the short period of time it takes to hit the ground -- I think things like, "Who's gonna call the paramedics?"  "I should have seen it coming."  "Not Again!"  And, "What am I gonna tell my husband???

So there you have it, some random thoughts on falling.