Hurt so Good

For me the toughest thing to conquer is the mountains. I mean the toughest thing out of all the physical challenges I put myself through (not talking about the mental challenges here). There’s the gym workouts, runs-hikes in the coastal hills, and occasionally the same in the desert, oh and also, runs down at my beaches (which are completely flat). Now, I’m not claiming that runs down at the beach, like my last 4 mile run (not blogged), aren’t difficult. They are difficult. All of these physical challenges are difficult to some degree. But the mountains -- they kick my butt.

With all the rain that we’ve been having, I thought that I’d check out Chiquito Falls on Sunday to see if it was flowing. Originally, I had planned to go up Maple Springs Road on Sunday (my go-to favorite), but I wasn’t really in the mood for the 1 hour plus drive. So, I opted for the 30 minute commute to the San Juan Loop trailhead (which is across the street from the Ortega Oaks Candy Store on Ortega Highway). I was happy to see the parking lot was crowded because I’m not so accustomed to the mountains like I used to be. The way I see it, the more people, the safer. Ends up, I did not see many people on the trail at all though. And Chiquito falls was but a trickle. But the trip was worth it still.

I really had forgotten what a difficult climb I would encounter going up Chiquito Trail. My memory just remembered the beauty, not the pain. And oh was it beautiful. The pain, well it wasn’t so bad at the moment. Still in a fasting state, I considered breaking my fast at one point with the emergency almonds in my pack. But as usual of late, I quickly rebounded for a strong return. I felt it later that day in my legs. And even the next day, my legs were sore, especially my calves. They hurt so good. Really! I haven’t had a workout like that in ages. (But I did NOT nap when I got home! In the five weeks eating a ketogenic diet, I have only napped once. Huge improvement!)  In all the trip was 9.13 miles with 1,609’ of elevation gain.

Here are some of my favorite pics from that rugged, yet beautiful trip:

Not Ready

I overslept this morning and changed my mountain running plans to coastal hills running plans.  Then I changed my plans back to mountain running.  My feet didn’t hit dirt until after 9AM.  That’s okay though.  I felt rested and strong as I started the first leg (the uphill leg) of my version of The Candy Store loop.  There many variations of this “loop” out there.  The main parts of the run however, are always the same:  Around 20 miles long, it starts or ends in the lot across the highway from The Candy Store, and goes to Blue Jay Campground, with the main trail being a long technical, rocky Chiquito Trail (which passes by Chiquito Falls, dry now for a good long while).

Fortunately, I experienced a cool breeze practically all day.  Also in the fortunate category:  I am still immune to poison oak, as the shady portions of today’s run were covered with the plant.  However, unfortunately, I was NOT ready for this difficult run.  I felt so fatigued, I experienced light-headedness and needed to force down additional calories.  I also poked my leg by running into cactus, resulting in a trickle of blood.  Then I fell flat on my butt running down a steep Old San Juan Trail.  Running the uphills on the return “downhill” portion really got my goat.  At one point, I turned a bend to find another uphill on my “downhill” route and hollered out a profanity.  

On the slightly humorous, Lauren-peculiar side, a set of hikers stopped me with three miles remaining for my run and asked, “How much longer?”  At that point, my brain could hardly form a thought.  But I did manage to sound like a ditzy broad when I replied “How much longer to where?”  (It always cracks me up when people ask me how much longer, as if I know where they are going).  The group of three looked at me questioningly until I re-phrased my question to “Where are you going?”  One of the guys answered, “Chiquito.”  Still barely able to form a coherent thought, I answered, “You’re on Chiquito.” 

Turns out they were  hiking to Chiquito Falls (which I should have guessed – duh!).  And though I figured out “how much longer” after we parted ways, I was only able to tell them that the falls are five miles from the parking lot.  I forgot to mention that the falls are dry. 

Despite not being ready for this run, I did finish it.  I finished it without collapsing and without calling 911.  I didn’t even run out of fluids.  Hooray for the fresh water in Blue Jay!  Who cares that my lower left calf aches (grocery store accident), and the plantar fasciitis in my right foot is having a painful flare-up. 

Going Up . . .

Much Appreciated Shade:

So, so, so happy to hear the cars from the road way down there – I was almost, almost finished:

Route:  San Juan Loop, Chiquito, Viejo Tie, San Juan Trail, Long Canyon Road in Blue Jay, Old San Juan, Chiquito, San Juan Loop.

Loopish Out-and-Back

I have not been well, and ended my 9 day running streak on Monday.  I would have ended it Sunday if it were not for my oldest son.  He offered to run a mile with me on Monday, so off we went.  I could tell he was frustrated with my pace.  I could barely run.  If it wasn’t for my lovely son, my streak would have ended on day 8.

Today marked a starting over of my streak with day one.  There was a group run going out of Blue Jay for twenty-something miles into Trabuco Canyon.  I wanted some solitude today and decided to run elsewhere alone.  I chose the Candy Store loop, which is more an out-and-back than a loop (but it’s loopish, with loops along the way).  Today though, I decided to run it in the opposite direction.  This way, I would run the uphill first, and hit the downhill for the last ten or so miles.

Same route, different direction: 

The sun had already risen by the time my feet hit dirt.  Solitude I wanted, solitude I got.  I saw this furry creature on my way down the San Juan Loop.  But I didn’t see a single person.

San Juan Loop looked much different to me running it in the opposite direction:

The run out, that is up to Blue Jay, was beautiful, uneventful and difficult.  But it wasn’t as difficult as when I run it for the second half.  The weather was cool, the trails were empty.  I decided at one point to search out the water stash my friends have told me about.  Every time I look for it, I can’t find it.  Today, I looked twice.  The first time, no luck.  On my relook, I found the stash off a beaten path.  Camouflaged well, I lifted the debris to see just how much water there was.  There was lots – not only that, but there was a brown mouse that poked his head out and scrambled down the bottles toward me.  Well, I let out a yelp (I hate mice – sorry I just do), covered the stash back up and high-tailed it out of there. 

I ran a several miles without music.  And I stopped several times to snap pictures I haven’t taken in a long time.

A dry Chiquito Falls:

I ran UP the Viejo Tie for the first time ever.  The ground was soft with leaf litter, and portions were extremely steep.  But it was all doable.  I still had lots of energy.  By the time I reached San Juan Trail, I was ready for Blue Jay.  Two miles of uphill rocky single-track still remained. I took it running and finally ran into Blue Jay with an empty hydration pack. 

Feeling no dread whatsoever for the second half of my run (like I do when I run it reverse), I rushed to a water source and filled my pack to the brim.  Lastly I took out a Larabar for breakfast to enjoy as I ran back down San Juan Trail.

My water source:

I ran through my “two deserts” (mentioned in my last Candy Store Loop post) and found it extremely hot and dry, yet delightful.  The sandy dirt was quite loose to the point where I fell.  I wouldn’t normally call this a fall because I actually slipped.  Slipping and falling are two different actions.  But since I landed on my butt, well, I guess it was a fall.

I continued onward through the shady forests of Chiquito feeling good, feeling strong.  I picked up my speed as I ran down toward the Viejo Tie intersection when suddenly I tripped on a root hidden in the leaf litter.  I flew through the air, like a flying squirrel.  I mean FLEW.  I landed face down in a patch of poison oak on top of a bed of leaf litter about six inches thick.  Talk about a cushy fall.  The first thing that came to mind was, “Get up!  Don’t let the hydration pack leak.”  So, I jumped up, found just a few cuts and scratches on my legs and was on my way. (If you’re a new reader, you won’t know that so far, I’ve been immune to poison oak).

The weather heated up immensely.  Still, by the time I came near the secret water stash, I still had probably a pack 3/4 full.  And that whole mouse thing creeped me out so much that I decided not to stop and refill.

BIG MISTAKE.

I ran the next few miles, up and down, up and down (though mainly down) on HOT, exposed trail.  The sun drained me, but I still drank up, fearful that I would run out soon.  I began to feel nauseated and had to stop and cool off here and there in little sections of shade.  My legs felt weak, like they couldn’t hold me up.  I kept running, because I wanted to get this portion finished as quickly as possible.

And then I ran out of fluids.  With about 2 miles to go, I ran the flats and downhills, hiked the uphills.  When I finally turned a corner into some shade, I came upon two male hikers.  “Don’t go out there,” I said. 

One of the men said, “I know, we were just there.”  His face was red.  The other guy was laying down in the shade.  I ran past them a couple feet and then abruptly stopped.  I HAD TO cool down.  Bending over, I grabbed my knees and was still holding myself up when the two guys took off ahead of me. 

After cooling some, I took off running again.  When I caught up with the two hikers, they were resting in the shade again.  They asked advice on the route back, and I told them to take the San Juan Loop to the right – it’s the shadiest. 

I passed the hikers.  Soon enough, they were up gaining on me.  I could no longer run.  That’s when one of the guys yelled out, “Miss, did you know your arm is bleeding?”

Sure enough a stream of dried blood streaked down my arm.  The hikers didn’t seem too sure when I assured them that my arm was alright.

The hikers and I continued like this for about a mile – stopping and resting, then taking off as long as we could.  The hiker about my age would just plop down in the shade and lay there.  I usually took off first because I HAD TO GET TO MY TRUCK FOR WATER. 

Eventually, I could only hold myself up when hiking or running.  Standing still I had a problem.  When I stopped in shade to cool off, I had to grasp a tree branch so that I wouldn’t fall.  I felt that I could not lay down for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get up.  For the first time in a long time, I worried about my well-being.  The only thing that stopped me from calling for help was the fact that I was only about a mile from the parking lot.  I decided to wait it out and see how I progressed before calling aid.  I paid close attention to my body and worked and worked at cooling it down.  At one point I oddly took off my hat.  Thankfully, I still had my wits about me to put it back on.  My breathing was rapid.  And I was hot, OH SO HOT.  But I still could think logically. 

We were was SO, SO CLOSE to the parking lot when the two hikers plopped down in the shade again.  Some hikers on the boulders above noticed us and waved.  That’s when I felt safe leaving the hikers behind and making the march back to the truck.

That march was miserable.  I stopped quite frequently, in fact, in every bit of shade.  Eventually, I had to sit in the shade.  Then my saving grace arrived.  On several occasions, it seemed like just as I sat, a strong cool breeze came along to cool me off.  That breeze gave me just enough strength to walk another twenty feet or so.  I certainly suffered from heat exhaustion.  The breezes cooled me of enough that I worried less over the possibility of heat stroke. 

I couldn’t believe that I let a little mouse stop me from getting more water some miles back.  That will NOT happen again.  I hiked those last 100 yards painstakingly slow.  Then finally!  I caught a glimpse of the parking lot curb.  I had made it.  I had my pack off before I even reached my truck.  My key in the door, I grabbed out a jug of water ASAP.  Then I turned on the truck and put the air conditioning on full blast.  Feeling too weak to drive immediately, I took swigs of the water.  I poured some over my head too.  When the salt dripped down into my eyes, I used some of that precious water to wash my face too. 

Well, I love an adventure, that’s for sure.  But dang it!  How many times do I have to learn the same lesson?  Refill at EVERY chance, even if I don’t think I need it.  This is my promise on day one of my running streak.

Elevation Profile (The route, San Juan Loop, Chiquito, Viejo Tie, San Juan Trail, Blue Jay Campground, San Juan Trail, Old San Juan Trail, San Juan Trail, Chiquito, San Juan Loop). 

The Great Struggle

On the 7th day of my streak I drove up Ortega Highway, the main road into our local mountains for one of my favorite runs – The Candy Store “Loop.”  It’s a twenty mile route, and though I referred to it as a loop, it’s mostly out-and-back, with just two loops in between.  Basically, it’s 10 miles uphill, 10 miles downhill.

I easily found a profile from my historical stats (see below, since my garmin is broken).   I begin this run in Blue Jay Campground and run back down to the highway, across the street from “The Candy Store.”  Sure there’s some uphills on the way out, and a tiny bit of downhills on the way back.  But it feels like 100% pure uphill for those last ten miles

First things first, I stashed some water off Ortega Highway, at the turnaround point.  I wondered (fleetingly) whether I could pull off today’s run after a relatively tough eleven miles yesterday.  I didn’t dwell too much on my doubt.  That’s how I am.  I just do it, whether I think I can or not. 

The skies were gray, the weather cool and humid.  The ground was rocky, but I can do it now – run that rocky San Juan Trail.  I took the whole trail to Viejo Tie without tripping.  AND, I saw my first tarantula of the year.  This one was a lovely black velvety creature.  I’ve only ever seen brown tarantulas.  As a young girl, I once allowed a ranger in Joshua Tree to put one of these spiders on my arm.  I was the only Girl Scout to volunteer.  The other girls screeched as the tarantula crawled up and down my arm. 

I don’t think I would have let this one crawl along my arm today.  But I was eager to get in close for a good picture:

I felt a bit anxious running without a garmin today.  I should have at least worn a watch.  I had no idea how I was doing for time.  But I felt okay running along San Juan Trail.  From there, I hopped onto the Viejo Tie, a wonderful up and down, single track.  I came upon two trail running acquaintances on the Tie, as they took my route, but in the opposite direction.

Going out – view from San Juan Trail: 

I hit Chiquito Trail in seemingly decent time.  I took Chiquito up until I hit the San Juan Loop.  I felt good, strong in fact on the entire trip out.  I got a bit of rain.  I handled the technical trail with stable feet.  I took San Juan Loop for the climb up into the parking lot.  The climb was tough.  But it was NOTHING compared to what awaited me. 

The Viejo Tie:

Chiquito Trail:

Feeling good on Chiquito:

I could not, and I mean COULD NOT face up to the run back.  It has always been a struggle for me.  I can do it.  But the upcoming struggle produced much unwanted anxiety today.  As I took out my breakfast bar, which I ate on the run, I came up with my plan.  I couldn’t think about what I had to run.  I needed to CONQUER THE GROUND.  That is, continue to get trail behind me.  This mantra, “Conquer the ground,” took away my anxiety as I ran San Juan Loop back to Chiquito. 

San Juan Loop:

I ran much of the uphill, though slowly.  Several times I needed to hike.  I pushed myself off from giant boulders.  I grabbed at branches for support.  I knew as long as I could see the highway, I still had a heck of a long way to run to my next point, Chiquito Falls (which are dry).  Every time I thought that I couldn’t see the highway any longer, I would look behind me or to my left, and sure enough, there was the tiny road, way down there.  It was killing me!!  Finally, I decided I must not look for the road. 

Somewhere on my way to Chiquito Falls, I abruptly stopped.  I don’t recall why.  I just stopped.  A second later, I heard the rattling, and at that moment saw the snake coiling up in the middle of the trail several feet ahead.  I stepped forward for a closer picture.  The snake slithered toward me!  Stepping back, I took my picture further from the poisonous snake.  Then I waited until it calmed down and slithered away.  He rattled during his entire exit.  Well, that added some excitement to my run.  It actually helped take away some of the misery of this great struggle back to my truck.

The Rattler:

FINALLY, I made Chiquito Falls.  “Conquer the ground” wasn’t working for me anymore.  With a few more miles, a few more long miles, I told myself, all you have to do is “Do the time.”  A song by rapper T.I. came to mind where he sings, “Do the time, don’t let the time do you.”  He’s talking about prison time.  But on my run, that line seemed much more apropos to the few miles left on Chiquito.  I had to take the trail, not let it beat me up.  Just “do the time,” and it would eventually be over. 

Some of the boulders that litter Chiquito:

Just do the time.  Just do the time.  “Do the time, don’t let the time do you.”  After about a mile, I made the mistake and began looking forward.  I looked forward to the next point, the Viejo Tie / Chiquito intersection.  I knew I needed to cross over the dry creek bed twice, before I was even anywhere close to the tie.  Even then, it seemed unbearably long to meet up with the Tie.  I hiked often.  I breathed in a gnat through my nose.  Then when I took a deep breath through my mouth, I swallowed one of those dang gnats.  It wasn’t pretty.  No, indeed.  I was no lady.

I continued on with flies buzzing about my ear with a wanting, an unbearable longing for the Viejo Tie.   Finally, through the thick green forest, I saw it – the post!  The post!!!  I flew on past the Viejo Tie/Chiquito post, then hiked the uphill to the next flat.

“Two more deserts, just two more deserts and I reach San Juan Trail.”  Still looking forward (it was just too difficult not to – I was tired, I was hot), I had a lot of uphill before my next destination.  In between me and that spot are two stretches of trail that remind me of the desert.  They are dry.  They are brown.  And they are hot. 

The first desert felt miserably long.  I must have been delirious when I began to wonder if perhaps I had already traveled through the first desert without realizing it.  No such luck. 

Desert #2:

FINALLY, out of the desert, ready to run San Juan Trail back to my truck:

I began to see hikers making their way about on San Juan Trail.  I tripped semi-frequently on the rocks.  And I met a friendly group of teens who told me my pack was unzipped.  As a young girl zipped it up for me, one of the males asked, “Where did you run to?” When I told him “The Candy Store,”  he shook his head.  “The Candy Store???  That’s about ten miles from here!!!” 

To this I groaned, “I know.”  I got a good chuckle out of the teenagers.  My heart did not lighten when they shouted, “You’re almost done!!!”  Though it was great to meet a group of smiling faces.

I COULD NOT stop looking forward.  Just do the time.  Just do the time.  Don’t let the time do you.  But I did let the time do me.  The time chewed me up and spit me out.  I finally made it back to my truck, chaffed, and dirty.  My eyes stung terribly from a dribble of constant sweaty salt.  The best part was, I was finished.  The great struggle was over.  I had done my time.  I did the deed.  The last step was my prize (not to mention the adventure along the way).  And I was glad.  So very, very glad.

Mmmmm . . . Candy!

This morning I woke at the ridiculous hour of 4AM.  Why?  So that I could drive an hour into the mountains and run The Candy Store run as the sun rose.  The drive up the windy mountain was uneventful as car after car raced down in the opposite direction from Riverside county, to jobs in Orange County.  I parked in lower Blue Jay Campground.  Tents were erected through out the grounds, but not a person stirred.  It seemed also that not a creature stirred. 

I took off on the same rocky trail that we took off on in Old Goat 50.  The skies were cloudy.  And as I descended down the mountain, I heard child screams and laughter coming from a campground above.  I felt like I was making slow time, yet I felt good.  I didn’t tape my arches, nor did I roll my shins beforehand.  I wound down the trail and made the first point of interest (the Chiquito / San Juan intersection) in about 37 minutes.  I consider 45 minutes very decent time for me.  I didn’t want to care about time on this run.  I wanted to enjoy.  Still, I couldn’t help but celebrate a tad.

I continued on San Juan Trail, which was shady and lush, climbing up toward the Viejo Tie.  Ear phones dangling around my shoulder and not in my ears, I desired complete awareness of my surroundings.  The trails were desolate.  I was completely alone, except for what lurked out there in the forest.  I felt relieved when I hit exposed trail because I had a better grasp on my surroundings. 

Memories from Old Goat flooded my mind as I ran.  I recalled where I fell.  I recalled when I passed, when I was passed.  The Tie went by very quickly, especially compared to the first time I ran it.  Still, I felt like I moved slower than I did during Old Goat.  Yet, I made the Chiquito intersection in about 50 minutes (1 hour is VERY decent for me).  Again, I felt accomplished.  So relaxed was I, the trails’ technical difficulty didn’t throw me.

I ran in and out of shady lush forest, on overgrown single track for the next few miles.  My mind wandered to all the things I needed to do (grade papers, make calls, pay bills, organize, organize, organize).  I thought a lot about our dying friend.  I told myself, “Don’t think!  Don’t think!”  I found this quite difficult.  That is until I told myself to do just one thing today:  call the hospice.  With that one thing resolved, I was finally able to empty my mind.

  The Viejo Tie (Or San Juan Trail just before the split):

The poison oak on Chiquito was unavoidable.  Even though I have been immune to the plant’s poison, I’ve heard that immunity doesn’t last forever. I’ve run through the stuff head-to-toe before with no consequences (knock on wood!).  This morning, I occasionally stepped aside from a bush.  But then my thigh would brush against several leaves.  Eventually, I realized it was useless.  There was no escaping the plant.

Chiquito Trail (notice the poison oak on the forest floor):

“The Candy Store Run” is approximately twenty miles, mainly downhill from Blue Jay to The Candy Store, mainly uphill on the way back.    Beginning this run at The Candy Store rather than Blue Jay, is the much easier way to go because you run the harder part on strong legs.  Both ways are long.  Both ways are lovely.  But I wanted hard.  Excruciating in fact.  This is why I began on the mainly downhill for an uphill climb on tired legs. 

I passed Chiquito Falls still feeling strong, feeling like I’d make The Candy Store in under 3 hours.  Then a funny thing happened on the way to the store.  I saw another person running up from the other way.  He wore all black, just as I did.  He didn’t startle me.  I could distinguish that he was a trail runner by the two handhelds.  But who? 

Why, this other runner was my friend John H.!!  I laughed out loud.  I mean, what are the chances that I’d come across someone I know?  We stopped and chatted for a good amount of time, laughing over the things we put our trucks through and how we both stash water in the mountains.  We talked about Old Goat (John was a sweeper who swept my friend, Emmett).  As we chatted, he helped put my mind at ease over finishing a fifty miler.  John seems quite “laid back” about running, whereas I tend to tense up.  Anyway, I didn’t worry about making The Candy Store in under 3 hours anymore.  It’s not often I get to talk trails and laugh out in the middle of nowhere with a friend. 

But then, I was off running again; John was off running again as well, in opposite directions. 

Out portion of the run, it’s still cool enough for my long sleeves:

Views of The Cleveland National Forest on my way down:

A quick glimpse of the many spring flowers along the way:

Toward the end of the out portion, I came upon a couple hiking groups.  One man looked at me as though I was crazy.  Another gasped, “Running?”  At the giant fallen tree, decomposing for years, I began my climb up to the parking lot.  The sun was out in vengeance.  The climb was difficult.  I finally ran into the parking lot in over three hours.  Across the street, The Candy Store was probably still closed (unless they sell donuts for breakfast).  I didn’t run across the highway to check, though I do love candy.  Instead, I ran over to my water stash in the brush.  After refilling, I set out for the return trip beneath an unrelenting sun.

Running back on the San Juan Loop, toward Chiquito Trail for the climb up:

It came as no surprise that the climb back out toward Chiquito Falls was miserable.  But it was a lovely miserable.  I climbed over boulders.  I ran the uphills in the shade.  Sometimes on exposed trails, I hiked.  I passed more hikers, some in small groups, some with walking sticks. 

Excruciating is a great word for the back portion of this run.  Much of it, before Chiquito Falls, is exposed, hot and rocky.  Tiny gnats swarmed my face.  But despite this, I still felt good.  No major aches or pains.  At one point, about half way, I heard the pounding of fast running.  Disoriented some, I was startled, thinking someone was running up on me from behind.  Turns out, it was John.  He wasn’t behind me.  He was in front of me.  We spoke briefly as I stumbled up the boulders.  Except for the last climb up to the parking lot, he had mainly downhill to look forward to, whereas I was looking at several more uphill miles.  Doh!

A big rock on Chiquito:

A simple view of the climb out:

Sleeves off, it’s now HOT, and I’m greatly looking forward to San Juan Trail because that means I’ve only got a few miles to go:

I came upon cyclists on the way out.  I gave directions to a father and son.  I could have cut the course short on a few occasions.  But I decided to sweat it out.  A cool breeze blew through the trees.  And though I felt fatigued, and pretty miserable, it was the good kind of miserable.  Seriously.  There is a good kind of miserable – it’s the kind of miserable when a difficult, yet gorgeous run is nearly over. 

Today’s elevation profile:

From above: