Retro Run

Hubby dropped me off in the coastal hills today.  I asked him before departing, should I run through the canyon and up Cholla?  Or should I go up Meadows?  He knows both of those trails, Cholla quite well. 

“Through the canyon,” he said.

“What????” I exclaimed.  (I wanted to climb and climb hard!!)

“You already know how to run hills.  You need to work on speed.”  True.  True.  He definitely knows what he speaks of.  But I love running hills.  I hate working on speed.  And I’m just not ready to get back to working on speed.  I promise myself that I will – just not yet. 

Today was a “retro-run.”  No, I wasn’t wearing Dolphins shorts, nor was I wearing Nike’s (that was the first running shoe I recall – though it was actually probably Adidas).  Today was a “retro-run” because I wore my husband’s ipod again.  And since I (we) grew up in the seventies (though he is OLDER than I ), I got to listen to lots of “old” music like I did on yesterday’s run.  And boy, did I enjoy myself.  I found myself actually acting goofy running up Meadows (and that’s quite a climb) as I ran “march-like” to the tunes of Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick.

“The Poet and the painter casting shadows on the water -- as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.

The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other -- as the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed.

The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling -- but the master of the house is far away.”

Entering the House of Meadows (Oh No!!)

It all seems so innocent enough – lovely orange flowers growing along the trail’s edge. 

Last chance to look back as I cross bridge on Meadows Trail.  I pause to look over onto the dry creek bed (Yes, those are my feet : ) And that silvery thing on my laces is my identification.

Though much of the coastal grass in the meadows is brown, still, lovely spring flowers dot the climb up.

I didn’t see any runners on Meadows.  The trail was also void of hikers.  A mountain biker politely passed me on his way down.  I nearly jumped out of my shoes because I was so much in another world that I didn’t see him (good thing he wasn’t a rattlesnake!).  I apologized profusely for not noticing him ahead of time.  But he said, “no worries,” he had seen me from a ways up the hill.  (I need to run smarter than that – and usually I do, mostly anyway :)

At the top of Meadows Trail, I didn’t even pause to snap a photo.  I kept on running.  Running up the next incline (it was oh so tough), I met a hiker that said, “I’m impressed!” 

I love people with positive words.  I mean, I was struggling pretty well, and she said, “I’M IMPRESSED!”  Little phrases like that make a world of difference.  And I learn from little phrases like that, and try to pass them on.  I don’t always remember to pass them on, but hikers like this lady, without even knowing it, do a world of good helping me to remember.

At Top of the World I reward myself with coconut water

I finished my coconut water running up and down West Ridge Trail.  I felt high, giddy.  That’s what running up Meadows to Top of the World does to me.  (That’s what running to Top of the World does to me period, no matter the route). 

From there, I took Rock It Trail down.  After Sunday’s run down Horse Thief, I figured some technical downhill practice was a good idea. 

Rock It Trail -- trails like this gave me the bad habit of looking down.

At the end of Rock It, I took a right onto Coyote Trail run.  I knew I was going to be about ten minutes late meeting my husband.  I picked up my pace some, relishing the shady areas and quiet creek below. 

Out of the shade I suddenly heard the loudest unmistakable rattling.  You wouldn’t believe how loudly I could hear this rattler, even with headphones on (really, no need to take off headphones to hear a rattlesnake – though I don’t play the music super loud).  I knew the snake was extremely close, and that it was to my left.  There is no way I could mistake that rattling sound.  It doesn’t sound like a single other thing, except a rattlesnake!  I used to think cicadas were rattlers.  Their little creaking doesn’t even compare to a rattlesnake’s rattle. 

Upon hearing this, I didn’t really think.   Letting instinct take over, I simply ran as quickly as possible, to my right, AWAY FROM THE NOISE.  That of course lead me off trail into the dry grass.  I thought, “Oh great, I just ran into tick land and there’s probably another another rattler a few feet away!”  Mind you, this all occurred in about a half of a second.

Well, I flung off the earphones and the sunglasses and searched for the rattler.  Aha!  There she was, across the trail, rattling like mad, coiled up, prepped to strike. 

Well, they can only strike half their body length, so I crept on in and did a photo-op.  She looked REALLY pissed off.  So, I decided to stop the pictures and took off running (but be sure to scroll down for picture).  A couple minutes later, a mountain biker came up from behind.  We excitedly relayed our encounter with the rattler.  He was a little freaked out how close to the trail it was coiled up ready to strike.  “I like to give them their space,” he said.

So do I.

And then a few minutes later, I came across a hiker.  He was wearing full length sweats with a zipper sweat-shirt to match, chatting on the cell phone (I can rarely get service in the canyon).  I said, “There’s a rattlesnake off the trail a bit back.”   He seemed annoyed with me and said, “I’ve seen them before!”

Hmph.  Just trying to be helpful.  Well, actually he would have heard her.  I just wanted to talk, I guess. : )  Seeing a rattler close up and personal excites me a little. 

I ran strong all the way in.  Thirteen minutes late I was, according to my husband.  He was not amused.  But then again, he hadn’t made the trip to our son’s school from that park EVER.  And I knew we had plenty of time.  I told him “No worry,” and for some odd reason, he didn’t believe me.  And I swear, he drove slowly on purpose (really, though, he’s a swell guy : ).  Still, we made it in plenty of time to pick up our cheerful kindergartner and his friend.  All was well.   I don’t know about the snake though. 

Miles run today:  11

ps.  I bought a new ipod shuffle today.  Thankfully, they are not that expensive.

Time To Run Again

I rested Sunday.   Monday I visited the gym and cycled for 17+ miles, did some core work.  Wanting to gradually get back into it, I rested again Tuesday, then back to the gym I went on Wednesday for about 6 miles on the elliptical, weight training and more core work. 

Today, came the day to run again.  Due to time constraints I ran this 9.5 mile loop at Aliso Wood Canyons, the one I’ve been timing lately:

I felt fatigued early on and thought maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.  The weather was quite hot and the wind blew at my face.  Thankfully, the wind was cool.  But it was still the kind that chaps your skin.  I hit Meadows Trail a couple minutes late.  But then as I began running that climb, I felt amazed at my strength.  Still, that sun blared down and the wind continued to blow at my face.  Nearing the top, I glanced at the garmin to see that I still ran a couple minutes behind.

I kicked it up some heading toward the trail marker at the top.  Grass grew waist high in the meadows at my side.  And then, as my feet pounded harder toward that trail marker, I glanced down.  There was something stretched across the trail, something as long as my arm span. 

I didn’t really think the following, I more like felt it in my mind in the SPLIT SECOND that it occurred.  Is that a snake?  Why, yes it is?  A rattler?  Becoming disoriented, I couldn’t quite figure which was his tail end as I searched for rattles, when suddenly my mind felt, remember, not thought, “Why the hell are you looking for rattles?”

At that instant, the same instant that the snake coiled up, I ran backward as fast as I could.  Faster than I would have imagined I had the energy to run (and backward to boot!)  I didn’t not stop until I was probably five times his striking distance.  That snake had whipped itself into a coil so amazingly fast, I’m very fortunate that I backed off not a second later. 

He stayed like that in the middle of the trail, his head high, poised to strike.  His rattle was unbelievably loud.  I took a couple steps closer (still safely far away) to snap a picture.  Then I phoned my husband, because I just had to tell someone about this amazing sight.  He could hear the snake’s rattles over the phone!

Well, that dang snake stayed there for quite some time.  There was no way to run past it, except to run through the grass.  And last thing I wanted was a tick latching on.  And so I waited.  And I waited, until I eventually called off my “timed” run.  Several minutes later, my rattling friend uncoiled and slithered off into the grass.  I ran past when I could still see his tail.  I wanted to be absolutely sure I could still see his tail when I finally made my trip to the ridge.  I wanted to be sure he didn’t turn around coil up, and wait there for me.

The Snake I Almost Stepped On About To Slither Off Into The Meadow

Well, let me tell you!  That little event sure awakened me.  Though this was no longer a timed run (it shouldn’t have been anyway, I should have planned a nice and easy recovery run), I couldn’t have felt more alive and excited after the ordeal.  I ran along the ridge feeling elated.  I ran all the way back in, joyfully, full of the running spirit that I sometimes lose, and reassured that rattler season is here, and that I should never stop looking.

Miles logged today:  9.5

Moments After Running Past The Snake

Come Hell or High Water

First, sickness kept me from the trail.  Then rain.  I was going to run today “come hell or high water.”  Hmmmm.  Not exactly sure what that means.  For me, it meant, I’m running NO MATTER WHAT.  I need to get away, unwind from loads of stress.

And so I woke with back spasms!  **#%%##!!!!!

They were so bad, horrific is more the word.  I cried from the pain.  They attacked about every 15 minutes, literally throwing me to the ground.

Hmmmph!  I am so sick of troubles with running – injuries, heat exhaustion.  It’s time to end.

I started with the ibuprofen at 7:00 AM.  By the last school drop after 9:00, I had taken a total of five, and felt spasms no longer.

Like I said, I was running no matter what.  Still, I lied to myself as I drove to Canyon Vistas Park.  I thought that I’d just check it out, if there was no pain whatsoever, I’d run, little pain, I’d take a long, long walk, lots of pain, I’d just lay down in the park for a few hours and enjoy the the cool breeze.  But really, deep down, I knew that I was running.

I took off through Canyon Vistas Park walking, because I didn’t want to pound the pavement.  As soon as I hit dirt I began my run.  Slow, very slow to start, I ran down Wood Canyon, through shady groves, fearful of returning pain.  I tried to wipe those thoughts from my mind and think of nothing.  Instead, thousands of thoughts dashed in and out of my brain.  Relax, don’t resist, I told myself and ran all of Wood Canyon Trail completely pain free!

The Glory of a Cool Breeze and SHADE on Wood Cyn Trail

Feeling good, I decided (actually I had decided yesterday) to run up Meadows Trail.  Virtually empty, I began the climb with a mountain biker who whizzed off ahead.  Far in the distance I could see two hikers with walking sticks about half way up Meadows.  I wondered to myself whether I could catch them.  Then I just put my mind on nothing and began running that steep, mile-long switchback up to the ridge. 

Eventually, I noticed the hikers pretty dang close.  I thought to myself (again), well I hope I don’t pass them because then I’ll have to talk.  After this morning’s attack on my back, I wasn’t in much of a talking mood.

Looking Back on Aliso Canyon as I make the climb up Meadows Trail

About three-quarters up Meadows’ climb (probably more) I came upon the two hikers.  One of the men said, “You’re not gonna shame us and run past us.” 

I smiled and laughed.

The other man said, “You better not be able to talk.” 

He really said that.  I had to laugh, having thought that I didn’t want to pass them earlier because I didn’t want to talk.  And so I began talking, like I was going to go into a long drawn out conversation.  Then I laughed and said, “just kiddin’, I can hardly breath.”

I was exaggerating.  I could breath, and pretty well.  I was just breathing pretty dang hard.  I met the men (Phil and Eugene) on the ridge too.  They wanted to go down another way, so I mapped out about 4.5 miles for them, taking Mathis back down to Wood Canyon.  I don’t know if they decided on that route, because I had to rush off to make it in time to pick up my youngest son.  I still felt good and pain free, just a little tired. 

Rock Sculpture @ top of Meadows Trail

Me (@ Top of the World / Meadows side)

Goats at Top of the World

After running through the residential neighborhood, I ran West Ridge much faster than I usually do.  Time was extremely low – even my fastest pace probably wouldn’t make it in time.  I pounded Cholla Trail then ran back up to my car.  I was late.  No time to stretch, I jumped into the car and raced off to the school.  I hit every single red light and was late arriving to pick up our son.  Fortunately, this was the one day his class was let out late.  My little one was none the wiser.  My oldest however, who stayed home sick today,  was aghast that I ran nearly ten miles after all that pain this morning.

I thought that I was “home free” from the spasms.  And I was so glad to have finally hit the trail.  THEN, after picking up middle boy, the pain attacked again.  Needless to say, I’m researching back spasms tonight.

Miles run today:  9.68

Today’s Elevation Profile

Mathis Who?

Minimal time and the sun blaring, I opted for a shorter loop at Aliso/Wood Canyons today.  “Shorter” meaning, shorter than the big outer loop.  I thought, heck, if I cut off Wood Canyon Trail after only about a mile and run up to West Ridge via Mathis, I’ll make this trip 2 1/2 miles shorter than the “big loop.”   I thought my idea so grand, that I made another decision.  Why not cut Wood Canyon Trail even shorter and take a detour trip along Dripping Cave Trail?  It will add a lot more difficulty, but will shorten the loop a tad too.

Brilliant. : )

Sightings Board at the Ranger Station (notice sightings are getting crowded by “lost” stuff)

Dripping Cave Trail

Arriving to Dripping Cave AKA. Robber’s Cave

Taking a step back so you can see the cave (infamous because robbers hid out here during the “Old West”. ) Their markings (holes in the walls where they hung their things) are still evident.

 

After Robber’s Cave the climb begins on Dripping Cave Trail 

And then finally it's down, down, down with a few tricky steps toward Mathis Trail.

Running through brush canopy to end Dripping Cave & come out on Mathis Trail

Mathis who? 

Mathis is no friend of mine.  Mathis tugs and weighs down your legs, he gives you no shade, disturbs your breathing.  Mathis hurls mountain bikers at you.  Mathis pours salt all over your face to drip down into your eyes.  Mathis drenches you, but does NOT cool you off.  No . . . no, Mathis was no friend of mine today.  He gave me a hell of a time.  But I did not quit, and ran the whole way (at a tortoise’s pace :) 

On the good side, as difficult as running Mathis was, it made reaching West Ridge and ultimately Top of the World, even that more triumphant.

I ran across Top of the World to enter the park again for a run down Meadows Trail.  And there in front of me, a shepherd attempted to get hundreds of goats into a newly fenced-off area.  His job was tougher than my “fun.”  He’d get them all going in one direction, toward the fenced area.  Then suddenly, one or two goats at the back of the pack would turn around and run.  And then it was all over.  All the goats, like dominoes, turned and ran in the opposite direction as well.  The shepherd, wearing long pants, ran quickly from the front of the pack, to the back, to herd them all again in the right direction.  He was yelling something that I couldn’t make out and headed them back toward the pen.  Then he’d run off to the front of the pack, when suddenly, one or two goats would turn around and run in the opposite direction.  And yes, again, all the other adorable kids followed suit.  I stood watching, amazed, as this happened again and again.  Poor shepherd.  How or when would this difficult feat end? 

Finally I couldn’t wait any longer to find out.  I took off running down Meadows, rushed again, to make it in time to stretch, get gas and pick up our kindergartner. 

I made it.

Goat Crossing at Top of the World

 

Posing at Top of the World, about to descend on Meadows over Laguna Beach and a socked in Pacific Ocean, as goats make their master run about in this heat (to my right)

View from top of Meadows Trail looking toward Aliso Viejo and Santa Ana Mountains

 Elevation Profile  (Miles run:  9.34)

Someone Finally Said It

I am reluctant to tell people that I run, because I imagine they look me over and think "you're no runner!"  As if I should care -- I run for many reasons, none of which, so that I can "look" like a runner.

Runners know that runners come in all shapes and sizes.  A lot of non-runners don't seem to think that.  Case in point:  Crazy week, in so many ways, different work schedule, among other personal stresses.  There I was, working a site I've never been to.  I was eating my packed  lunch consisting of an apple, an orange, and a turkey sandwich on whole wheat.  I got to talking to another teacher, and commented how my current schedule was messing up things -- I can't run when I want to.

"Running?"  She looked puzzled.

"Ya, that's my hobby; I like to run long distances -- especially on trails," I said.

"Hmmmm?"  She gave me the once over.  "But you don't . . . [Yes, she actually said this] YOU DON'T LOOK SKINNY."

She wasn't exactly "skinny" either, nor was she slender.  Actually, chunky or plump comes to mind.  Not that I care one bit about her body shape -- I just couldn't believe that someone finally said it. 

"Well, I EAT," I said. 

Heck, she just said something a little stupid.   I thought it was funny nonetheless that someone finally said it.  (And it made me a little self-conscious too, promising to cut the "junk" from my diet.)

Back to running. I'm headed up Bulldog soon for the 3rd time, and as usual this year -- I'm not quite ready. Hills, hills, hills -- that's what I'm concentrating on. So, I hit Cholla Trail running, feeling no anxiety whatsoever as I approached it. And this woman (that is, me -- 45 five years old, with 3 children) who is NOWHERE NEAR skinny, ran up and down Westridge Trail to Top of the World.

Running Wood Cyn Trail toward Cholla -- there was only one single cloud in the sky.

Originally, I planned to make this an out-and-back, about six miles.  But I was having too much, sweaty fun.  And so I ran across the Top of the World, entering Aliso/Woods Canyon Park again about a mile later.  The wind blew rather strong, not terribly, but enough to notice the resistance.  I kept a lookout for Rattlers, saw none.  I felt a little devilish when I warned some out-of-towners I met at Top of the World, "Watch out for Rattle Snakes, they start coming out about spring."   The woman jumped away from the brush and hurried down into the landscaped park at Top of the World. 

The view from the top was unbeatable today.  The ocean was dark blue, speckled with whitecaps -- a sign of the winds' strength.  Pictures can't do the view justice.

I ran down Meadows for a nice size loop for today's run.  I took some video running down Meadows (clips below), but found 1) I haven't figured out how to keep the camera from rocking and 2) Decided I'd rather not fall and didn't film the best parts of the steep, switch-back portion.

In all this run totalled about 9.6 miles.  Time to increase the uphills.

Top of  the World @ Westridge

Running back into Aliso/Woods Cyn Park, approaching Meadows Trail

Heading back down to the Canyon, via Meadows Trail -- Where did those clouds come from?

Meadows Trail caught on video (beware of bumpy ride : )

Up Mathis

I headed to the Top of the World solo this morning. After a struggle warm-up, I arrived to the base of the Mathis climb with dread. I thought, "I . . ., I ca, ca, ca . . . I . . ." But I wouldn't allow myself to think it. "Don't think about it," I hollered inside my brain, "just do it." (Hey isn't that a Nike commercial???)

How shall I describe my run up Mathis this morning? Hmmm. It was steep, slow to end, uneven and rocky, so, so difficult. Let me think . . . Hellish comes to mind. (Is that a word?)

Don't think about it, just do it.

The skies were blue, clouds white and wispy, the breeze cool. A blue heron wandered about on Aliso Creek Trail. Picture perfect for a morning run. My body though just wasn't into the difficulty. Fortunately, my mind was. And so I did run up Mathis, and then up Westridge. Finally reaching the Top of the World, I ran into the park, when my boss phoned. That cracks me up still, to get a call on the run, and to answer it! Well, I sat right down in the middle of the sidewalk for a few minutes talking, then rose (like rising from the dead) and ran across the Top of the World neighborhoods to enter the park again for a Meadows run.

Running down Meadows trail was a blast. I ran all the way back to the ranger station, my IT band acting up : ( When it was all over though, I was GLAD, wishing I could do it again soon. Back at home, it was ice on the hip and then a hot shower.

Here's my theory on what's happened here with this injury: 1) extra weight (pounds on the body), and 2) compensating for my toe problem. I tried to change my uphill gait, by implementing a mid-foot strike, even on the steepest parts (to avoid toe running) -- well, I'm pretty sure I started bending at the waist more when I got off my toes -- and tadaa, injury. (When I told my doctor about trying to run hills with a mid-foot strike, he said, "Our bodies aren't meant to do that." I should have listened.)

Needless to say, about a week ago I scratched the "off my toes on steep hills" plan, but the injury hasn't completely healed. Will I ever get it right? I'm 44 years old, a fairly new runner, I don't know what the heck I'm doing!! I never thought that I had to know what I was doing. That's one of the reasons I started running (because it was free and it didn't take much knowledge -- funny, eh? I'm laughin'. Seriously, I am.)

I love it still. And I smiled this morning driving home when I felt the layer of salt crusted across my face -- now that's a tough workout : )

Miles logged this morning: 9.08