High Energy!

Saturday (2/24) was ten days since switching to a ketogenic diet. My energy is still sky high, and mental focus so much improved that it really is kind of freakish. In addition, my appetite is oddly suppressed, like no other appetite suppressant that I’ve tried. Just think, if someone would have concocted a pill to do all this -- get rid of the brain fog, give tons of energy, and act as the best ever appetite suppressant to boot, I would have taken that pill. I would have taken that pill because I have been raised in a culture where we are always looking for that magic solution, one that works without even trying. I have never found such a pill. Instead, I stumbled upon something called a ketogenic diet.

Who knows if these are all temporary side effects. I’m hoping not of course. For now, I enjoy experimenting with the high fat/low carb diet effects. Since now when I wake in the morning, I am awake, I have more time in the day. Seriously, I experience no grogginess upon waking. I also no longer nap. I have been a napping girl for years. YEARS. I stopped napping the day I switched my diet.

So, on Saturday (2/24), I decided to run-hike a loop in Crystal Cove/Laguna Wilderness that has been a struggle for me over the past few years. I chose this loop because 1) It’s relatively close by and I had limited time due to the fact that I needed to get my two youngest boys to their music lessons, and 2) I wanted to see if my newfound energy would affect the misery level of this run. The route: From Ridge Park in Newport Beach: No-Name Ridge to No Dogs to the Pacific Ocean (all pretty much down hill). For the climb out: El Moro Canyon to Slow & Easy to Boomer Ridge back to truck.

I got out of the house fairly early (about 7:10 am). The temperature read 38F in Dana Point. It had warmed up a bit by the time I arrived to Ridge Park in Newport Coast. The streets were already lined with cars dumping out cyclists, runners and hikers onto the trails. The mood was definitely festive! I hit the dirt on an empty stomach being that I am also intermittent fasting, which basically means that I fast for 16 hours before eating (this by the way is simple because much of the 16 hours is done while I’m sleeping!). Anyway, I have never put in a grueling run or hike without some sort of fuel. I packed calories (almonds) just in case my body began breaking down.

The results: I ran down to the Pacific Ocean with very good energy. I didn’t miss the gloves that I accidentally left at home, as I warmed up pretty quickly. The ocean was beautiful with a crisp horizon line. I lingered there with the sand beneath my shoes for a bit, not looking forward to the climb out. I will not deny that the climb out was tough. But the thing that I noticed was that after the really hellish parts, I rebounded very quickly. Pretty much as soon as I hit flat ground. I never once needed to sit at the side of the trail to rest (that’s how bad it had gotten for me!).  And I never felt the need for fuel. But I did drink up, more so than I usually do.

 

The trip was 9.75 miles long with 1,284’ of elevation gain. I had more energy than I’ve had in years. I rebounded quickly. I did not need fuel. And I did not nap all day. I promised myself at least a month of ketogenic dieting. Today as I write this, I am on day 14, and as it stands now, the benefits of ketogenic eating are too great to go back. (5 pounds down also)

Link to my shaky video diary of the run: My More Energy Run

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.

Breaking Forty

Well, I did it.  This week I finally broke forty miles.  There was a time when that was common place.  Not anymore.  Imagine, I even contemplated throwing in the towel again – reminding myself that I don’t have to run.   At any time, I can chose to NOT run.  I find it healthy to remember this.  Well, it took me four runs to get in 44.4 miles, and I am glad for it (not to mention a tiny bit optimistic).

Monday (April 13), I drove up the coast through Laguna Beach then up Newport Coast for a run out of Ridge Park.  I took the long way because I didn’t want to pay the $6.50 toll.  I ran 11.78 miles (18.96 km) in total, taking off from Bommer Ridge, then El Moro Ridge where I stopped off at a World War II bunker and headed down B.F.I. (Big Friggin’ Incline).

I couldn’t resist running beneath the highway (Pacific Coast Highway) for a close-up look at the ocean.  After some relaxing time listening to the waves roll in and out, I headed up through the campground to check it out for a possible family outing.  Nice campgrounds, but no campfires allowed.  No campfires!  Can you imagine camping without a fire? 

After the campgrounds, I made the difficult three mile uphill trek back to the car.  So worn out was I that I didn’t care about a stinkin’ $6.50 toll and drove the toll road back home. 

Thursday (April 16), I ran out the front door for a run down at the beach.  I saw a woman pulling her huge luggage on wheels behind her up Pacific Coast Highway.  She asked directions as I passed her on the road and I could tell even behind her dark glasses that she was bawling her eyes out.  I helped pull her luggage back up the highway, and used her phone to call the bank she was trying to locate.  Turns out the bank was much too far for this woman to walk, especially with all her heavy luggage.  I contemplated walking her back to my house so that I could drive her, but I didn’t need to, because while I phone, the bank manager said that he’d drive out to pick her up.  I walked the recently widowed woman up the highway further and waited with her until the bank manager showed.  When he arrived, he appeared like a knight-in-shining-armor – tall, dark and handsome.  (I did get the details on this woman’s situation, as we had a lot of time to talk.  The details are so sad and too complicated to relay here, and though, I feared “handing” her off to a stranger, I got his name and make of car, and felt overall confident that he was safe).  This small adventure derailed my running plans, but I was able to get in 5.30 miles (8.53 km) along the California Coast. 

Friday (April 17), I planned for a long run, setting out in Aliso Canyon around ten AM.  The skies were blue and the tall brown grass sang in the wind. From Wood Canyon, I quickly turned onto Meadows Trail (my old-time favorite) and ran along the overgrown single-track to Mentally Sensitive Trail.  The trek up that steep trail was excruciating.  It took me about twenty minutes longer than usual.  That was a good thing, because before I had a chance to commit to my long loop, I received a text from my husband stating that his car didn’t start.  This meant that I had make a smaller loop, heading back down Meadows for a nice long switchback down into Wood Canyon.  I got 7.69 miles in (12.38 km) and made it to my youngest son’s school just in time for his pick-up. 

Saturday (April 18), I was back at Aliso/Wood Canyons (this time at 12:30 PM)  for a long run up Wood Canyon, Cholla and West Ridge to Top of the World.  That was about 7.25 miles of hot uphill running.  On the ridge I ran through a swarm of bees, which startled me at first.  But then the scene brought back lovely memories of running through swarms of bees on trails in years past.  At The Top of the World, I took in the view and then turned around and headed back the same way for a total of 14.53 miles (23.38 km).  This run kicked my butt.  But when I calculated my week’s totals back at home, I came in a little over 39 miles.  This meant of course, I needed to get out one more day this week. 

Sunday – today! (April 19), I ran straight out the front door at about 3 PM and ran 5.10 miles (8.21 km) along the beach.  It was a tough run, but easy terrain-wise.  I kept up a decent pace, but felt still slightly sluggish. And that was it – my forty miles done – happily struggling along, “embracing the suck,” every last mile of it. 

Marijuana Bust

Friday I got out by noon and drove along the toll road for a run in Crystal Cove and Laguna Wilderness.  I had forgotten that nearly every time I run there I think I will never return.  Why?  Because so dang little shade.  Somehow, I always find my way back, and smack in the middle of a summer afternoon.

I arrived to Ridge Park, the hills in Irvine/Newport that overlook Newport Coast, amidst loud and chaotic excitement.  A couple helicopters flew above dumping marijuana plants onto a pile in the middle of the road.  Police vehicles and news vans crowded the streets.  To top it off, spectators drove in and out of the one opened area, laughing and talking, excited about the smell of marijuana in the air. 

The marijuana fragrance was strong and stayed with me for a while on the dry hot trails.  I ran right through the commotion, thinking that law enforcement would stop me.  They didn’t, but I did notice a news camera following with its lens, and I thought, “FUDGE!  I don’t want to be on the news.”  (I didn’t quite use the word “fudge.”)

It wasn’t long before I was away from all the commotion.  I saw very few runners or hikers on the trails.  Understandably.  It was just too hot.  I wondered how on earth farmers were able to grow illegal crops in this mostly brown, exposed wilderness area.  How did they water the approximate 4,000 plants.  How were they going to harvest without being detected? 

I arrived at the bottom taking No-Name Ridge and No-Dogs a little overheated.  I decided to take El Moro Canyon back up to Bommer Ridge (the shorter choice), scratching my original plans to run past the canyon and straight up to Moro Ridge.  I’m not sure the canyon route was the best choice.  I felt like I was running in an oven.  On a ridge I would have at least experienced a breeze.  

No-Name Ridge:

No-Dogs Trail:

Making my way through the canyon & stopping in the first bit of shade:

Much needed shade (& this was about all of it):

With about a quarter mile left before reaching Bommer Ridge, I konked out.  Light headed, I needed to cool off my body temperature.  It appeared that I let heat exhaustion overcome me once again.  Dang it.  Sitting in the shade, I took in a nice breeze and it seemed my temperature cooled quickly.  After about ten minutes, I finally got to my feet and slowly ran the additional 1.5 miles to the truck. 

Recuperating, waiting or my temperature to drop:

Oh!  And I was on the news – a Spanish language station.  A running friend, Conrado, took a picture of his television as I ran across the screen, and sent it to me via facebook.

Rolling Ridges

I felt at a loss where to run this morning.  I’ve had too much of Aliso/Wood Canyons, its shady groves, spring flowers, creek crossings and wretched climbs and descents to and from the ridge.  I’ve had about enough of Arroyo Trabuco trail too, with its multitude of creek crossings, lush groves and relatively flat terrain.  This morning it was, “Ho hum, where do I run?”

I suspect hubby could tell that I was approaching the door to the blues.  I’m guessing that’s why he handed over his debit card and said, “Get some gas and go run in the mountains.”  I took it in a heartbeat (I have yet to get the bank to get my own debit card).  But then I took so long getting out of the house, I opted for something entirely different – a run in Crystal Cove and Laguna wilderness.  This time though, I didn’t pay the exorbitant cost of the toll road.  I took the long way and drove through Laguna Beach. 

Wonderful Laguna Beach. 

Many, many years ago, before our three boys were born, I drove every day through Laguna Beach to get to my job in Irvine.  Oh, how I longed to be one of those wanderers strolling along the boulevard as I drove bumper-to-bumper, puffing cigarette smoke out the open window of my Toyota Corolla.  The Greeter, the original greeter, an endearing old man, stood on a corner and waved at me every single day as I drove by.  He waved at everyone.  For years.   And years. 

This morning as I drove though this town, I couldn’t help delight in the idea that I am one of those wanderers now (not exactly how I imagined, but I am).  The greeter is no longer on this earth.  But a larger than life statue stands on the road replicating his wave.  In front of that statue, stood another man this morning.  He wore a red coat as he waved at the drivers moving along Highway One.  Sure, he wasn’t the original.  But he put a smile on my face, just as the original greeter had so many times. 

Oh ya!  Lest I forget . . . I ran today.   I made a three-ridge loop (with a connector trail along the way).  Though I was still tired from yesterday, I enjoyed every perspire of sweat.

First, I ran along Bommer Ridge, high about the Pacific Ocean.  It’s a mainly downhill ridge, rolling though, with some up’s. 

Bommer Ridge:

After Bommer Ridge, I hopped onto El Moro Ridge.  It’s more rolling than Bommer, and heads directly toward the ocean.  I spied many coyote and bobcat tracks.  I explored the campgrounds.  And I stopped to photo this green meadow:

El Moro Ridge:

From El Moro Ridge, I took B.F.I., which stand’s for Big F’ing Incline.  For me it was all down hill.  I stopped for at bit at the WWII bunker.  Ate my snack there as I gazed down at the Pacific.  Then I was off again, headed for the BIG rolling climb up No-Name Ridge.

View from B.F.I. bunker:

I took no pictures (prisoners?) from No-Name Ridge.  I found the climb quite taxing.  I ran when I could.  When the ascents were too steep, I practiced my power hiking.  In all, I covered 9.82 miles on this loop.  And as usual, I believe I’m better for it. 

The Cost of Trail Running

Day 25 of my Fitness Streak, it appears I’m getting my running legs back.  Right now, I’m darn near ready to crash and sleep.  My lids are so heavy, I’m not even sure what I’m typing.

I decided for a change of scenery this morning and headed off to Newport Coast.  I took the toll road and made an effort to look at the toll cost as I drove through the sensor.  One way cost me $6.75.  Yikes!  Double that for the entire trip and that’s a good chunk to add to the cost of today’s trail run.  This hardly fazed me.  I learned early on, that despite my initial thoughts, running is not free – especially trail running.  Seems like I’m constantly forking out cash for small ticket items and large – fuel (like gels, bars), electrolytes, hats, sunglasses, athletic tape, pack, pack essentials like pepper spray, etc., etc.  The cost is worth it though – what I get in return is priceless.  

At about mile 3, heading down to the ocean:

A quick stop at the beach:

Heading back up El Moro Canyon back to Bommer Ridge to complete today’s loop:

9.67 miles of happy times:

A Marina Run and a WWII Bunker

Monday, day two of my new running streak, I took a leisurely run at the marina.  Well, it wasn’t exactly “leisurely” because when I run flats, I try to pick up the speed.  I’m so accustomed to a slower pace due to the elevation gains I usually run, I must take advantage of the flats, so that I don’t train myself only to run slowly.  Still, my faster pace is rather slow.  Be that as it may, I ran faster than I usually do.  And that was fun.

I took a quick look at the daily fish count.  Look at all those fish, and three fishing boats were docking at the time, so their fish wasn’t even counted yet.  The café’s and restaurants were filled with tourists.  And there were smokers all about.  I assumed they were out-of-staters, because in California, smokers usually go back into the deepest darkest recesses to light up. 

Tuesday, day 3 of my new running streak, I went for a run and search.  A running friend told me where to find a WWII bunker off the trails in the coastal hills.  8:00 AM, I set out for a ten mile loop in search of this bunker. 

I began the loop in Newport Beach in the Laguna Wilderness, and ran a rolling truck trail down to the shore.  The weather was pleasantly cool.  For the first three miles, I didn’t even take a sip of the icy fluids strapped to my back.  I don’t even think I turned my hat around for the first three miles.  That’s how cool the weather was.  Lovely.

I had to climb a nasty trail, a steep truck trail, with paved portions.  Paved!   Also, not one single tree (aka. shade) lines the entire trail.  Stopping at the first location I figured to search for the bunker, I found nothing.  A bit disappointed, I thought to myself, “I have to take this trail again!!”  That trail is named B.F.I. appropriately named (Big F’ing Incline).  

Climbing B.F.I.

Still climbing B.F.I.

Before reaching the top however, I finally spotted it.  I noticed the cap first and ran on over to check out the bunker.  The cap was locked so there was no getting inside.  But I was able to crouch down and peer into it from a front opening.  I felt a bit sad exploring this historical remnant.  Mankind went through a terrible time during this period.  I even felt odd taking a picture of myself in front of the bunker.  I felt like I shouldn’t smile.  But I did. 

After my bunker find, I ran up another ridge then closed up this loop for 9.9 miles.  Ended up I drank all 64 fluid ounces of my Nuun dissolved ice water. 

The profile (Route:  No Name Ridge, No Dogs, B.F.I., El Moro Ridge, Missing Link, Fence Line, Bommer Ridge):