A Hearty Welcome Back from Holy Jim

I’ve really been wanting to get back to the Santa Ana Mountains for some mountain trail running, specifically up Holy Jim Trail.  I was fortunate to have a taker for the run, Jeremy. 

We arrived to the base of the mountains, Trabuco Creek flowing loudly beneath cloudy skies.  I kept the two layers of long sleeves on (plus a short sleeve that I thought for sure I’d be running in soon) and we headed up Holy Jim.  I rarely run in long sleeves than say, more than a half hour. 

I was surprised how much easier it was to make that gigantic switch-back of a climb, running much of it, compared to the last and only time I “ran” it before (the Saddleback Marathon). 

We crossed back and forth across the stream when rain began to fall.  Fortunately, we had plenty of tree cover at first.  When the switch-back began, the clouds were so thick there was no viewing the canyons below. 

Several other crazy people made their way up Holy Jim – at least two mountain bikers (it’s kind of a blur now) and countless hikers.  I could have counted them, but didn’t, let’s just say there were lots.  Some were smiling, especially the kids, but others had looks on their faces like they wondered what the heck they had gotten themselves into.

And the rain fell a little harder.  And the wind blew a little colder.  We were completely drenched by the time we reached the top of Holy Jim.  What a surprise to find out that trail measures nearly five miles!  Great training trail.  I seriously thought it was a little over a mile, maybe two miles and the reason it kicked my butt last time was because I was so dang tired by the time I reached it (at about mile 10).

On the Main Divide, I finally took out some gloves and a beanie to wear beneath my cap.  That’s when I found out my camera didn’t work, as everything in my pockets were drenched, including the camera.  I didn’t even want to think about my ipod.  Fortunately my phone still worked.  Water poured from Jeremy’s glove when he clenched his fist.

Oh the fun of running an exposed mountain range in the cold rain and wind!   When the Main Divide snaked to the other side, facing Lake Elsinore, it warmed up some as we were protected by the wind.    Still, I really couldn’t feel my legs.  We just kept on moving, hoping that at each turn West Horse Thief would suddenly appear.  Visibility was pretty low.  I mean we could see where we ran, but we could not see off into the distance.  Then glory, glory, West Horse Thief seemed to appear out of  nowhere. 

The run down was glorious, though it was wet and it was cold, and it was rocky.  Toward the bottom of the mountain dozens of orangish-brown salamanders made their way across the muddy trail, away from the stream.  I could have sworn that I saw one salamander with a worm in its mouth.  I desperately wished that my camera worked, and thoughts ran through my mind how I could collect one or two of these creatures and bring them home to the boys.  But I had no container, no way to keep them moist for the drive home (and believe me I was dreaming about turning that heater on full-blast in my truck).

With about a mile and a half remaining, I got whipped by Stinging Nettle.  I thought the reason it stung so badly was because my skin was wet.  Soon the little bumps appeared, and the stinging didn’t disappear like the last time the plant attacked down in San Juan Capistrano.  It felt like a thousand microscopic needles pricking my leg over and over again.  But the pain was very bearable, as my main mission, to finish this run, was still at hand.

Finally seemingly out of nowhere, 14 miles after we started, we ran up on to the parking lot. 

Great run, but a very difficult run, mostly because of the weather.  As promised I drove with the heater running full-blast, all the way home.  I might also add a funny side note:  the skies were blue as I drove home, not a single drop came down upon the windshield.  It took me a long time to finally warm up also at home.  8:30 PM, my leg still stings from the Nettle. 

It was all worth it though.  Holy Jim, I’ll be back!

Finally toward end of run, camera begins to work somewhat (all the pictures turned out mostly blurry)

Elevation Profile:  Holy Jim to Main Divide, West Horse Thief to Trabuco Trail.

What to do about Horse Thief Trail–just keep going up it. Face your nemesis, and sooner or later you’ll conquer.

Early to bed, early to rise.  That’s the way I like it.  This morning I drove up Ortega Highway to Blue Jay Campground to meet fellow runner Jeremy.  I would never run the trails up there alone, so I was so happy that Jeremy agreed to accompany me.  I posted the run on the OCTR, but this morning, no other takers.  All you need is two to make a group right?

Right?  The main thing I learned as a young girl in Girl Scouts is the buddy system – always take someone with you.  I don’t always do that in my local hills.  But in the mountains the buddy system in my mind is crucial.  Cougars roam up there!  (The other precious gem I learned in Girl Scouts was, “Make new friends, but keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold.”)

The weather was overcast.  Delight, delight.  And to my surprise the campground was pretty  crowded.  (Spring break in our parts right now.)  Jeremy showed the way for a quicker route to San Juan Trail that I completely forgot about.  I would have taken us around the long way on PAVEMENT.  Right away on that first trail though, a rocky single track, I actually fell!  The fall really took me by surprise – I was down before I knew I was falling.  I usually don’t fall first thing.  Falls normally happen when I’m super tired or giddy.  Perhaps I was giddy.

I have to go back and research to know for sure.  But I think that’s fall #11.  But it might be more, since I’ve fallen a few times lately after a long sabbatical of no falls.  I don’t recall seeing any other runners on this lovely run.  We saw some hikers (one guy who seemed to eye us suspiciously, like he thought we were a couple of nuts running in the mountains.)  Some dirt bikers plowed up the trails, and we also met a couple of mountain bikers at Trabuco Creek.  Overall, the trails were pretty empty, especially Horse Thief Trail and the Main Divide afterwards. 

The Run elevation profile below:  3,014 feet elevation gain (Horse Thief runs from a little after the 5 mile mark to about 7 miles).

Running, well . . . actually posing on San Juan Creek Trail. 

Running down Trabuco Trail

By the time we reached Trabuco Creek, Jeremy pointed out my knee.  Yikes!  It didn’t look like this after the fall!

Time for a group picture and a hesitant moment before the big climb up Horse Theif.  Notice I’ve taken off my long sleeved shirt.  The climb is really the most difficult I’ve encountered.  Tougher than Bulldog in Malibu Creek Park (though Horse Thief thankfully, is shorter). 

Going Up Horse Thief

At the top at last, running the Main Divide

Pretty yellow flowers alongside the trail – it’s springtime!

Jeremy poses with Lake Elsinore far below

I think, I’m not positive, that Horse Thief was a little easier this time.  One advantage going up today was that the temperatures have lowered and the sun hid behind the clouds.  If only I could get out there once a week to train, I think I’d greatly improve.  Thanks to one brave runner, Jeremy, I was able to get out there and run this morning.  (That’s not to say there’s not lots of brave runners out there, it just takes a lot to get up here, waking early, and a driving a long windy drive up a mountain with other drivers riding your tail to get over the mountain, etc.) 

Quite a run!  Very enjoyable, not to mention tiring.  I call that a plus/plus.  Miles logged:  12

ps.  some of these pictures are courtesy Jeremy, I didn’t mark the exact ones, because I’m so dang tired, happily tired.

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

: )

Big Baz WTRS 21k

Rain poured down upon us all night, waking me every couple of hours.  I said out loud, “Boy am I in trouble.”

2:55 AM, I lay in bed, wide awake.  Finally, I made it out to the couch where I slept until 5:45.  Thankfully, the rain had ceased.  First thing I did (after brewing coffee) was check weather.com.  The website reported rain all day, except for partly cloudy skies between 8:00 AM and noon.  Exactly what I needed.

I will try to make a long story short (because I did after all, make a video).  The weather was cold in Blue Jay Campground.  Runners bundled up in winter running gear.  I couldn’t decide:  wear or pack?  After much debate, I finally decided to pack warmth in my hydration pack, because I figured I would rather put on than take off during the race.

I saw quite a few running friends, and some running friends were absent.  I was especially happy to see Lori, whom I haven’t seen in so long (unfortunately, the photo I snapped of us, didn’t turn out, but she’s the girl wearing back in front of me in a portion of the video).

Oh yes, I wrote that I’d make this short.  Well, in short, Horse Thief Trail was hell.  PURE HELL.  I kept up pretty well with “my” group up until nearly the top of that trail.  My energy temporarily drained, that’s when I lost them.  I was utterly wiped out at the top of Horse Thief that I had to stop at the aid station there.  The guys at the station asked how I liked Horse Thief.  I told them, I didn’t much like it at all (though the views were gorgeous.)  The ranger said I had just missed the snow flurries (bummer) as I stood there gulping down their cold, cold water.  I got brain freeze drinking their supply before taking off again. 

I can’t tell you the relief I felt passing the last aid station with only 2.5 miles remaining.  I was quite cold, but didn’t want to stop to take out a warm shirt.  I thought to myself, just easy-going from here (mistake – never think that!)  And then out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her!  There was a woman gaining on me.  And behind her, another woman.  Where did they come from?  I hadn’t seen anyone for a long time.

“SH**!” I said.  And I had enough energy to kick it in, keeping my pace at around a 9 minute mile for the remainder of the way.  My motivation:  I had already accepted my place in the race.  (Races with about 100 runners, basically all trail races, I have a pretty good idea how many runners are behind me).  Anyway, if these two women passed me, or even one of them, well – heck, I suppose I don’t have to explain.  I was a little disappointed for lollygagging it back when I was all by myself.  

Well, I made sure the two women didn’t pass me by focusing hard on the trail (didn’t want to fall) and focusing on the garmin.  And I crossed the finish line smiling.

Conserving Energy Going Up San Juan Trail

Going Up Horse Thief Trail

Aid at Top of Horse Thief

Lake Elsinore View from Main Divide

Baz’s Raffle

Elevation Profile:  + 3051 ft. & Video Below

Cleveland National Forest

Upon reaching home, it pretty much rained the remainder of the day.

p.s.  I kept up with my target a good long while, almost to the top of Horse Thief, then he took off like a thief in the night!