Climbing Out

I know I have probably written it before, but I’ll say it again -- climbing out is hell. My preference is to do the elevation gain first (or even midway). Saving the climb for the end of a hike, run or hike-run is simply brutal for me. It is almost never fun. But in the end, the relief of it being over is so overwhelming, it makes it all worthwhile.

This particular route, a ten miler beginning and ending Laguna Wilderness with Crystal Cove Park picking up the mid part of the loop, starts off with nice and easy rolling hills. There was a few miles of this along Boomer Ridge, and then a few more along Moro Ridge. These first five miles or so were really lovely, with most of it sharing full ocean views. I saw my first rattler of the season during this portion. Then at 5.57 miles in I was finally at sea level, and the climb out began. Whew. Those last four and a half miles were a bear. My pace was a steady slow. Not slow run. Slow hike. And being that I’ve travelled up many long and steep inclines before, I grabbed onto the mantra, “This too shall pass.” And so, with one step in front of the other, over, and over and over again, I was back at my truck, feeling refreshed and not terribly beat up. And as I mentioned earlier, relieved!

April 7, 2018, 10.01 miles, 1,382’ elevation gain

Right Where I Want to Be

Being that I’m only running coastal hills when I run alone nowadays, on my one day this past weekend where I got to run, I headed off to Newport Coast to catch some trails. Not wanting to spend $13 in tolls, I drove Coast Highway through Laguna Beach and into Newport Coast, and then not wanting to pay $15 to park, I drove up Newport Coast to Ridge Park. This of course meant that I once again started my run at the top, which in turn meant for a hell of a climb out.

My route: From Laguna Wilderness -- Bommer Ridge, Emerald Canyon, Old Emerald Falls (or possibly Emerald Falls, I can’t remember which is which), then an unmarked trail to Moro Ridge in Crystal Cove Park, East Cut Away, Moro Canyon down to the crowded winter seashore. From there I took the ever so creatively named trail No-Dogs, to an even more cleverly named trail called No-Name for the final climb out. Whew. I was beat. But I was not broken.

The best part of it all . . . well, there were two best parts. First, as I ran down into Emerald Canyon, I ran beneath a red hawk as it soared high above, dipping here and there with the breeze. She was magnificent. And secondly, taking the unmarked trail was a thrill. It took me straight up the canyon side right onto Moro Ridge where I wanted to be. Actually, I was right where I wanted to be the entire time.

Emerald Canyon

Saturday I got back out for some trails in Laguna Wilderness.  Still not running, though I did run a couple of hills on this trip.  And I kept the cast splint off again, as even though I cannot straighten my arm yet, I really need to be able to swing it some.  With the cast, swinging is difficult but with it tightly wrapped I can get some movement in. 

I started off on Bommer Ridge and made it to my favorite ridge in this area, Moro Ridge with its gorgeous 180 degree ocean views.  But this time, instead of taking Moro Ridge to the end, I took an unmarked single track to my left after travelling the ridge for about a mile. 

This unmarked single track was a lovely piece of work with lots of rocks and a clear shot of Emerald Canyon, which I have not ventured to in years.   At times the trail got so steep and technical that I got down on my behind and scooted down.  I just cannot risk falling right now. 

This unmarked single track dumped out smack in the middle of Emerald Canyon, right near a bridge that I have never seen before.  Apparently, it was built about two years ago (according to a trail runner I came up on). It is a bridge to nowhere as this trail runner put it.  And indeed it is, but a gorgeous single track to nowhere.  You see, Emerald Canyon trail abruptly ends at a giant chain-link fence with an exclusive Laguna Beach neighborhood on the other side.

For the trip back, (which was a five mile uphill trek), I decided to take Old Emerald Falls, an old favorite of mine, which winds through a giant meadow and up another rocky single track to Moro Ridge.  From there, I hopped onto Missing Link, which I regretted with its constant ups and downs (I was dang tired).  But, thankfully, that little detour ended up cutting my trek short by about a half a mile.  I was ready for a nap!

Sleeping it Off

I still have not recovered from my illness.  And I take full credit for that.  I have not been eating right, nor have I been sleeping right.  Much is going on, lots good, some not good at all.  Personal life is good.  It’s the professional life that has been of concern.  (More on that later . . . if I get around to it – hopefully, I will never get around to it, but instead will bask in the greatness of family and friends and oh yes, lest I forget . . . trails).

This past weekend, I had hoped to get in some mountain trails.  I think that it’s good that I did not.  I really need to get well.  Sleep, I believe is such a good cure-all for illness (and other things too).  So, I decided to take a bit of that medicine both days this past weekend.  Saturday, slept in and hit the gym later in the afternoon.  Sunday, slept in, and drove through downtown Laguna Beach around 10AM headed for Crystal Cove / Laguna Wilderness. 

I don’t like to run coastal hills on the weekends.  Why?  Two words:  mountain bikers.  Too many of them race irresponsibly fast on the local trails.  Sorry.  It’s the truth.  All a runner has to do is trip and fall in their path, and they are dead.  Seriously.  It’s that bad. 

I was not disappointed on Sunday in Laguna Wilderness.  Bikers raced along Bommer Ridge like there was no tomorrow – and there were no apologies.  Feeling so annoyed at one point, I really wanted to take a fist full of dirt and throw it in a biker’s face.  Of course, I would never do that.  But I thought it.  Is that bad?

Thankfully, I turned off onto Moro Ridge, which was lonely, and oh so lovely, occasionally encountering a hiker or five, and hikers are always oh so polite.  Love them. 

Moro Ridge:

From Moro Ridge, I took East Cut-Away for a fast, truck-trail run into Moro Canyon.  And once in Moro Canyon, I couldn’t help but run to the seashore for some sand stepping. 

I really am a lucky lady. 

And Chimera is just around the corner.  Can’t wait!!!

Miles run:  11

Elevation gained:  1,450’

Change of Plans

I woke with a sore throat and considered not running.  Every time I run with a sore throat it seems that I get sicker and lose more time from training.  But I’ve already lost so much time.   I must get in the miles.  There really is no time to lose.  I dosed up on the vitamin C, got the boys breakfast and off to school before making my decision.  I chose to change my original grueling hill training run for a more relaxed 12 mile run. 

I didn’t take any pain relievers so that I could tell whether my throat worsened.  And I debated whether to drive up into the mountains for The Candy Store Run or to run local trails.  Wanting a change of scenery, I decided against the mountains (because there’s the extra 2 hours driving time), and chose parks I don’t often run:  Laguna Wilderness and Crystal Cove. 

These two parks are rather popular, much more than Aliso/Wood Canyons (my stomping grounds).  I think the reason for the popularity is the vast ocean views most of the trails provide.  I suppose they aren’t among my favorites because I live at the seaside.  Standing on my front porch I can see a sliver of the ocean.  If I walk a short block and a half up, I have literally a 180 degree ocean view (my town is kind of in a giant cove). 

Running No-Name Ridge into Crystal Cove:

My throat hurt when swallowing, my calves and shins tightened with each step I ran down toward the sea.  Stopping twice to stretch, I decided the tightness was probably early signs of plantar fasciitis rearing its ugly head again.  I decided to tape my arches once I reached the ranger station approximately 3.5 miles away.  Then as if instantly, at 1.5 miles, my calves and shins felt perfectly fine. 

Very soon, I ran in awe of the coastal beauty.  I was also surprised how many hikers I came upon on this weekday morning – dozens. 

A quick pose before final descent to the ranger station:

Not wanting to waste time, I decided to skip taping at the ranger station.  Instead, I ran out to the ocean for a quick glimpse of what I take advantage of every day.  The water was a gorgeous deep blue.  White water rushed up to my feet.  I jumped back to avoid wet shoes.  Then I stopped briefly to run my hand through the fine sand in search of beach glass.  (Yes, we collect beach glass in our home.)  Coming up empty handed I ran back underneath the highway and headed up to Moro Ridge.  I decided on B.F.I. (Big F****ing Incline) to take me there.  The trail is named appropriately.

Onward to the ocean:

Relieved to finally make the ridge, I soon ran right back down to near sea level because I simply have to run El Moro Canyon.  It’s not quite a brutal run, and it’s beautiful down there.  Only thing is, since I had run all the way back down, all my B.F.I. progress was lost, and I had to climb back out.  I forgot all about my throat.  It felt good to have sweat run down my face. 

I took Nice and Easy Trail for the final ascent which wasn’t easy at all, though it was nice.  I suppose it was easier than the alternative, Elevator Trail.  The trail I took lasted so long however, that I wished that I had chosen Elevator, which gets you to the ridge REALLY quickly.

I’m delighted I changed my plans today instead of resting up.  Yes, today’s run was still a tad grueling.  But it was WELL worth it.  I’ve got both arches taped up tonight.  And best thing is, I don’t have a sore throat right now.  Here’s to hoping I can stay well! 

Take Two

Today’s run ended my “rest while running” time.  I thought it apropos to end my “rest” by attempting the run that seemed to set the downward spiral in motion during my training last September. 

I set out running Bommer Ridge in dense fog this morning headed for Old Emerald.  I took a wrong turn last time, which resulted in pure HECK.  This morning I accidently took Bommer ridge down to Willow Trail, which I do every single time.  That was no big deal.  I just had a short uphill run to get back on track.

 

I came upon one other runner on this lovely, yet eerie morning.  He turned around and joyfully hollered a greeting.  Bundled up from head to toe, I couldn’t tell right off if I knew the man.  I mean, he kind of looked familiar.  “Do I know you?” I asked.  (I say that more than ever now that I’m a trail runner).  Turns out we didn’t know each other.  My friends and family who don’t run trails think that this sport is small.  And it is.  BUT to me, it’s a huge sport.  I constantly come upon people at races and on the trails that I’ve never seen before. (And I stay in my own state!)

Anyway, a thick gray coyote looked on at me through the mist as I ran onward searching for Old Emerald Trail.  I felt certain I missed it last time because it was not marked.

I focused off to my right for an unmarked single-track.  Eventually, I found a distinct single-track.  Unmarked.  It didn’t look familiar.  But keep in mind, when I run Old Emerald, I run up it.  I ran down Old Emerald just once. 

So, I ran that single-track down the hillside and told myself firmly, “If you get into trouble, TURN BACK.”   I noticed bike tracks, no footprints.   Nothing looked familiar.  With the fog so thick, I could not make out my surroundings very well.  Then finally, I noticed a ledge down below that could probably give me a good view.

From the ledge, I could see the meadow I was aiming for, way, way off in the distance.  Problem was, there was a ridge between me and the meadow.  I was on the wrong trail.  It’s pretty much a straight shot to the meadow from Old Emerald.  I would definitely remember having run over another ridge.

So, I ran back up that single-track, a little proud of myself for not taking the trail anyway, just to see what would happen. 

Back on Bommer Ridge, I came upon another single-track.  I ran a short distance of it, to the edge, before its descent.  I could still see that ridge.  Wrong trail.  And so, I continued onward, confident that I would find Old Emerald because here and there I could see an outline of the ridge that separated the canyon from my meadow.  Sure enough, soon after the other ridgeline sloped down to nothing, I came upon this trail:

Unmarked?  It may seem so.  I felt vindicated.  That is until I turned around and saw the trail marker, clear as day on the left edge of Bommer Ridge.  I ran down Old Emerald with great focus and renewed energy.  At the bottom, I ran probably twenty-five feet before I came to Old Emerald Falls Trail.

Entering Old Emerald Falls:

The meadow!

The climb out of Old Emerald Falls was a chore.  It was single track, and in places technical, which took my mind off the difficulty.  From there I caught Moro Ridge and ran it all the way to the ocean (well, I had to take a couple other trails).  I saw these two, seemingly tame deer as I made my way down B.F.I. Trail:

Running beneath Hwy One for a view of the grand Pacific:

From there it was all uphill, a lovely, cool uphill.  The last run of my “restful running” couldn’t have turned out better.