The Last of June Gloom

Went out on a four mile hike the day before Summer Solstice (June 20) in my local hills off of Las Ramblas (In Dana Point). This was the second of back-to-back hikes, which is rare nowadays. June Gloom still had a grip on us here on the southern coast as you can see from my photos (you can also see the last of spring). Don’t let the clouds fool you – it’s not cold by any means and it’s humid.

Hiking San Juan Capistrano (Plus an initial review of Amazfit Pace sports watch)

I got a new sports watch for Christmas, and I have barely said a word about it. The fact that I haven’t said much is testament to its relative ease of use. I’m still learning how to use it to its fullest capacity, but I already know that me and this watch are going to be friends. The watch is an Amazfit Pace, and it’s battery lasts for days and days. Battery life, if I have not already mentioned before, is of utmost importance to me -- perhaps the most important. And so, Amazfit Pace hit that concern right on the mark. However, I’m not accustomed to a touch screen watch, and most of the time I cannot figure out how I got to a the menu I’m currently at (the menus can run deeper than my mind wants to go!). The good thing is that I can easily start and end a hike or run without getting lost in the menus on my Amazfit. I was also able to easily sync the watch’s data to the phone app. But, I’m not thrilled with the phone app, mainly because it’s a phone app. I prefer the large screen -- I’d like a pc app (like I had with my Garmin). The best I have found so far, is having the data upload onto Strava.com.

I somehow linked my Amazfit phone app to an old Strava account that I don’t think I’ve ever used. I didn’t even know that I correctly synced the two (it’s all a guessing game with me sometimes) until I received some “kudos” from a few trail running friends.  Also, another thing about the Strava upload, and this is going to bug me for a while, the numbers between the two apps differ slightly between my Amazit phone app and the Strava pc app.

Aside from all the usual stuff that I’m used to on a sports watch (distance, mileage, elevation, pace, etc), this watch also tells me the weather forecast for a week, records my heart rate and even tracks my sleep when I wear it to bed! Yes the Amazfit Pace tells me how much of my sleep was light versus deep sleep. And it shows me graphs with the exact timing of deep sleep cycles. Who knows how accurate the sleep data is, and I’m not sure even if that information is useful to me. I could download music to the watch too and listen bluetooth (which I probably will not do -- I’m old fashioned and still pack an ipod). Bottom line, useful statistics or not,  I’m back in the business of tracking stats.

On Friday, after a week of rain, I strapped on my Amazfit and headed out for some trails. I went as local as can possible being that I didn’t get out until the afternoon, and my son had a 4:30 doctor’s appointment. Seemed like as good a time as any to get reacquainted with the town that I so love, the town that got us out here --  San Juan Capistrano. I reminisced in my Friday video how many years ago I was travelling by train with my husband-to-be and his classmates from an urban development class at Cal Poly. As the train slowed down through the hills of San Juan Capistrano, I gaped at the beauty outside of my train window. I had never been to San Juan Capistrano but knew right away I loved it and exclaimed right there in the train, “I want to live here!” Turned out, my husband’s first job out of college was in San Juan Capistrano. We moved out here in December 1988.

Trabuco Creek flows right into San Juan Capistrano. From there the creek that I so love, meets up with San Juan Creek, and they both flow out to the ocean at Doheny Beach in Dana Point. I decided to meet up with Trabuco Creek before it met San Juan Creek. I parked my truck by the horse stables just outside of the Los Rios District.

It has been a while since I have seen Trabuco Creek flowing so forcefully through San Juan Capistrano -- at least a few years. It was flowing so well on Friday, that I could not find a place to cross. My hike came to a halt where the creeks comes tumbling down the rocks beneath the train tracks. So, I took a little detour and climbed up to the tracks, ran across the bridge then made my way back to Trabuco Creek Trail through the meadows that are dotted with orange trees. After meeting back up with the trail, I turned back off again to take the bike path beneath Interstate 5. From there, I made my way fairly easily to Arroyo Trabuco Trail, just past the golf course off of Avery Parkway in Mission Viejo. My hope was to make it to the first giant overpass (Crown Valley Parkway), but my hike came to a gradual halt when my feet began sinking down into the mud. The trail became so muddy that my feet sank down to my ankles. Pulling them back out of the mud to tredge on became tiresome, and I feared that I was going to fall flat on my face. So, I made my way back from this lovely hike in San Juan Capistrano a little earlier than planned.

7.43 miles logged
3:10:48 Total time
528 ‘ feet of elevation gain
220’ average altitude
121 bpm average heart rate

Got to Love an Adventure

Perhaps I am certifiably insane.  Perhaps I’m merely an explorer.  I don’t know.  I just love an adventure and I probably spend too much time on my hair-brained ideas.

Today’s concoction:  Run the bike path (or the riverwalk, as I call it) above San Juan Creek.  But instead of running into the historic district and downtown San Juan Capistrano as I usually do when I run the riverwalk, I planned to turn off and follow the bike trail that I pass over on the freeway almost every day.

So I strapped on my pack full of water and other essentials and headed down the highway.  About a mile in, I realized my hands were empty and I gasped, “I forgot my water!”

Uhhh, Lauren, your water’s on your back. 

Funny how the brain confuses.  I never wear a pack when I run the road.  Today though, I wasn’t sure where I’d end up, so I put on the pack.

I took Sycamore Creek Trail to the “Riverwalk".  No creek runs along this trail.  Though some small Sycamores grow along the side.  Actually, the trail runs through an exercise park with a dozen or so stations along the way.

Exercise, Exercise, Come on Everybody do your Exercise

Running along the “riverwalk” aka bike path – Enjoyable?  Yes.  Hot?  Yes!  The cement path offers very little shade opportunities.  Though the sound of rushing water helped me feel refreshed.

The long, lonely road.  For some reason, just like with trails, I tend to veer to the edge. 

Running beneath the road (Camino Capistrano) meant shade!!  Up head, more shade as I ran beneath the freeway (I-5).

Okay, I didn’t care about the heat about now, because I’m feeling a trail coming on . . .

Ahhhh, yes.  After a quick stop at a water fountain in a park (because I didn’t want to run out of my supply) I happened upon a nice, slightly muddy equestrian trail.  Notice the shade – glorious, glorious shade.  (Today, by the way, was the hottest day in a long time)

I felt good, confident that I knew where I was headed.  My plan: reach a ridge a few miles up. 

There’s only one problem.  I ran this trail until it ended.  I mean ENDED. It ended at the locked gates of the equestrian center on Highway 74.  I couldn’t find any way around it.  And as it was, I was on the wrong side of the creek.  Well, I disobeyed (who me?) the signs that warned to stay on the trail.   There was no way I was turning around and running all the way back.  My plan – cross the creek, or rather creeks at this point and find a trail on the other side.

I crossed the first creek merely submerging my shoes.  The second creek, same thing.  The main creek however flowed rather quickly, and appeared about knee deep.  I scoured the land for a way to cross.  Two ducks swiftly floated by.

When I’d find a trail, I’d take it until I found myself boxed in by shrubbery so thick, I was forced to turn around and take the trail back in search for another trail.  This occurred again and again, the brush was so dense.

Finally I phoned my husband so he could look on the Google Earth and find a way.  He reported that I took the wrong trail – I was on the wrong side of the creek. 

Really?

Noticing mountain lion tracks in the mud (be sure I know my cougar tracks, they are unmistakable once you know them), I told him, I’m just crossing the stream.  “No,” hubby pleaded.  He said that he hated not being there to make sure I didn’t get swept up in the creek.  So while he scoured the satellite maps with the computer freezing up, I talked to him as I crossed the stream.  It wasn’t quite knee deep – I’d say it was 3/4’s calve high.  But it did flow swiftly.  I slipped only once, but made the other side safely.  On the other side – no trails!  Just massive brush.  I ducked beneath branches.  I trampled through poison oak.  Really, I had no choice.  I could see the steep riverbank, but could find no way to it.  Hanging up the phone so that I could concentrate and listen for dangers, I trudged through that stuff knowing I had to get to San Juan Creek Road (according to a very helpful husband who by the way, wasn’t too thrilled about my adventure – but perhaps he’s getting used to this).

Boxed in again.  Ahhh.  Duh!

Finally, I saw the light.  A way up the bank.  I scrambled up that bank to find a massive hunk of thick, knee-high brush.  I plowed my way through that and what do you know!  An equestrian trail!  A lovely, muddy equestrian trail!  Just a little ways a head, I spotted a street sign that read “San Juan Creek Road!” 

When I reached the road, I ran a stretch of pavement with delight in my heart, not to mention flashbacks of those cougar tracks running through my mind. 

Soon I reached the trail I aimed for.  And I ran up to that ridge for a bit of treasure – a view of San Juan Capistrano (I could even see the mission) and behind me, the foothills of The Cleveland National Forest.

I grew extremely fatigued on my (more direct) run back.  At one point, I realized that I would run near our boys’ school about the time my husband picked them up.  (It’s “early out” all week).  So, I put in one more call to cut this run about 3 miles short.  I asked if he could please wait for me and take me home.  My better half offered to better that, and pick me up at my current location.  I insisted that he just wait, perhaps drive up the road from the school and wait for me at the “riverwalk.” 

Turns out, he arrived at the exact same time as I did.  I hopped into the truck, dead-dog tired, happy to see my two youngest, who weren’t so interested in seeing me as they busily planned the rest of their “early-out” day.

Miles logged on this adventure:  11 (though it seemed like so much more!)

To be determined:  status of poison ivy tramping. 

Injuries:  just a few scrapes on the legs.  

ps.  times like this, I feel like the luckiest person on Earth.

pss.  and then I went to work, the students were wonderful, except for one exceptional student I had to “yell down,” and threaten he was out of the program unless he turned in some work today (this after he called me a liar!).  Needless to say, he turned in some work.  And though he still thinks I hate him.  I don’t.  (I could have booted him after the “liar” comment.  But I just don’t have the heart).  Okay, is that TOO MUCH INFO???

It’s so hard to watch people with “talent” for lack of a better word, to waste it.  I on the other hand have no such “talent” (except to be freakishly organized and feel unorganized), but I make do.  And so can you!

Twenty Miles!

I had to go back to my 2008 log to find a nice flat twenty miler.  I don't own a garmin, so I can't simply run until I hit twenty miles (I measure with Google Earth afterwards). I'm The Planner, remember.  It helps to know my route.  I like to split long runs into legs, or segments.  It's not twenty miles I'm running -- it's 3 legs.  I'll do the same for the marathon in two weeks that I'm not ready for.  It won't be 26.2 miles -- it will be five miles five times, plus 1.2 miles.

I set out this morning, the moon still high, but the sky lit slightly from a sun threatening to rise.  The weather was cold and breezy.  I wore shorts, long sleeves and gloves, but wished for a ski mask or at least beanie as I headed down Highway One.  Surprised to see an "Open" sign at the corner restaurant, I could smell they were cooking bacon.   

Leg One:  8.85 Miles -- Into San Juan Capistrano and back to Doheny Beach

I ran through the community park to get right onto the river walk, aka bike trail.  Last week, I asked an adult student of mine, who I know bikes the riverwalk, whether the bike trail was open, specifically the bridge that takes you over to the otherside.  He assured me it was -- he said that he had "just crossed the bridge a few days ago, in fact."

The sun peeked above the horizon, and I saw soon enough, bulldozers and a big "closed" sign up ahead.  Grrrr.  They've been working on the riverwalk for more than a year!!!  "I'll figure something out," I said to myself, determined to leave negativity behind.  Sure enough, no one manned the machinery, so I hopped right over the yellow tape and continued onward into San Juan Capistrano.  About a mile later, I came to a chain link fence right across the trail.  But I was able to hop off it, run into the dirt a while to get around the chain link and back onto the path. 

There were plenty of other runners out on the river walk.  As I passed one of  them, I asked her whether the bridge was open.  She thought I was waving to her.  She smiled and waved back.  Well, the bridge was open.  Thing was, there was another chain link fence directly across the trail blocking me from the bridge's entrance.  So, I walked down the bank some, ran under the bridge, came up on the other side, crossed the bridge (picture above) and continued my way along the trail.  Ha!

I crossed Camino Capistrano over to Stone Field (a popular soccer field with large stones stacked for "bleechers.")  I felt a tightness in my right calve, wondering about blood clots (my latest paranoia), I stopped for a quick calve stretch.  And then about a quarter mile later, I stopped abruptly and layed in the library grass for a glute stretch, ridding myself of a tightness on the right side as well. 

The rest of Leg One was beautiful.  Purposely leaving my camera at home to avoid extra weight, I found myself pulling my phone out to snap shots.  I ran through downtown, to the train depot where a few families waited in the cold for a train.  There I crossed the tracks into the Los Rios Historic District.  No tourists out, only workmen washing down walkways.  I felt strong throughout Leg One, hydrating with only electrolytes.  I ran the riverwalk back.  Doheny Beach coming into sight in seemingly no time; the start of Leg Two brought gladness to my heart -- I was home again.

Running Through Downtown San Juan Capistrano

Sarducci's Restaurant Along the Tracks, Adjacent To The Depot

Crossing Over The Tracks Into The Los Rios Historic District

A Los Rios Business Storefront

Leg Two: 4.56 Miles

Just as with Leg One, my main focus for Leg Two was "No Resistance."  I felt strong, carefree.   I took in my first 100 calories in the form of a powdered shake with water in my  handheld.  I circled the full campground twice, noticing plates mainly from California and Nevada.  There was one lone Montana plate as well.

Plenty of runners made this leg too, as I ran through Doheny on into Capo Beach.  I turned around where the sidewalked ended, stopped briefly to snap one photo of Leg Two.  I made the campground loop once again on the way toward the marina, the smoke from campfires a bit bothersome.  The wood had an odd odor, like it was treated or something.

Capo Beach On A Cool Breezy Saturday (the cliffs in the furthest background is my turnaround point for the final stretch home)

Leg Three: 7.03 Miles

I switched back and forth between focusing on form and "No Resistance," during Leg Three, which included running out to the jetty, running through a crowded wharf and finally running alongside the harbor.  The sidewalks were crowded with walkers.  The coffee houses and breakfast joints were packed.

I decided to take in my next two hundred calories before crossing over to the island.  Why wait until I'm fatigued to fuel?  My problem so many times with running is that I wait.  I wait to hydrate, I wait to refuel, I wait to stretch.

During Leg Three I found my focus change to breathing -- that is getting a full exhale out before inhaling.  About halfway around the island, exhaustion set in.  It wasn't terrible, and I kept my pace.  Still, I was looking forward to the end of this run.  I was so close now, just about two miles, I just couldn't quit.  And so I kept on going, turning around at the cliffs for that tired, tired, yet accomplished final stretch back home.  I walked up the block to my house for some cool down, then walked around the backyard for a good long while before putting in a nice long stretch.

Turnaround Point at the Cliffs Before Heading Back Home.


Total Miles logged this morning: 20.44
Good News:  No Hip Pain on the Run, No Utter Exhaustion (though I did hit that minor wall on the island), and best of all, I got in a twenty miler before the marathon.
Other News:  Hip was stiff during PT exercises this evening, though I did spend some hours scootering with my boys down at Doheny Beach this evening too.  I also got flack today about my running, not from just one, but two family members (it's been a long time since that's happened); it disappointed me some, because it solidified the fact that they don't have a clue why I run.  And why should they?  You can only know if you KNOW.  From the outside, I realize, it looks ridiculous.

A Hair Brain Idea?

Thursdays has been a running day for a long time.  So when I got word of an emergency meeting (re: work), I didn't fret too long.  I couldn't run tonight.  I had to work, after that, it was off to my son's orchestra practice.  My only choice:  simply run to the meeting.

My husband said it was a "hair brain" idea.

Hmph.

So did my son.

Double hmph.

I stuffed my glasses, a pen and some paper, plus my phone into my belt, glad that I came up with such a good idea.  : )  Out the door, I began my run uphill, a pretty tough climb.  Afterwards I ran downhill toward Insterstate 5 (even stopped in to see my youngest and husband at preschool).  After crossing over the river, I ran the road that runs between the interstate and the railroad tracks -- the car dealership ghost town.  And then the run got pretty tough -- tough as in, the road was not runner friendly.  The sidewalk ended and cars raced by at high speeds as I ran on an uneven gravel portion closer to the tracks. 

I made it to the district office with twenty minutes to spare.  Plenty of time to stretch, drink and rinse off my face before heading on in.  I don't really care if people think I'm crazy.  There was one guy a the meeting who congratulated me.  He saw me running by the car dealers as he drove in. 

I decided not to take the same route home.  My plan, hop onto the bike trail and run it on into Doheny beach (I don't call it the "bike trail" usually.  I call it the  "river walk," because it's a paved trail that runs up above San Juan Creek, which is sometimes a river.  Absolutely no one else calls it the "river walk," though.  I get laughs in fact when I call it that).

I guzzled down at the water fountain in a park that overlooks the creek, then headed toward the ocean.  But it turned out that the bridge that crosses the river (creek) was closed.  I headed back into San Juan Capistrano, and ran a much longer route home.  I got to pass my boy's elementary school and finally climbed back toward home as I passed my son's preschool.

I arrived home rather tired, but HAPPY.  Happy for no pain in the hip!

Miles logged this morning:   9.15