The BIGGER Loop

Okay, I know that’s lame.  I contemplated a great deal over what to name today’s loop, but came up with nothing.  This is the best I’ve got (at least until I run this loop again).  What loop?  The second portion of the Old Goat 50 miler that I’m running at the end of March.  The first twenty miles is The Candy Store run that I’ve posted recently.  The second portion of this race is a 30 mile loop that takes runners up The Main Divide, down Trabuco, up Holy Jim  to Santiago Peak, then back, mainly via The Main Divide (in the Saddleback Mountains).

I posted this run in my running club and 3 other runners showed for a shorter loop which took them up the infamous West Horsethief.  We ran together for the first 6 or 7 miles.  The weather was cool, perfectly cool.  And the skies were blue. 

Top of Trabuco/Main Divide (Me an utter goofball, Alyx, Tory, Jessica Deline RD of Twin Peaks and The Harding Hustle):

View of Santiago Peak from Trabuco:

Running Trabuco:

The Departure, and I’m not weeping over missing W. Horsethief:

Once we split, I’m sure my pace slowed.  I run faster when I run with others.  Though I enjoyed the earlier company, now I enjoyed the solitude. I came across several friendly hikers.  And I put a great deal of effort into not thinking about the past or future.  I succeeded pretty well, and of course, that’s when I ran my best. 

I have not run Holy Jim since I DNF’d the Saddleback Marathon this past November.  I have not run to Santiago Peak since Twin Peaks Ultra (October).  I’ve been avoiding these trails I think, due to a fear lurking in the back of my mind.  A fear over the difficulty.  A fear over mental defeat.  Holy Jim is where I gave up the mental battle during the Saddleback Marathon.  Santiago Peak, well, I have a mental defeat just about every time I run those last 2.5 miles. 

Nonetheless, my run into Holy Jim was lovely.  The weather remained cool.  The skies grew a little cloudy.  And the trails were “spring” green with moss and ferns heavily dotting the landscape.

Ending up Trabuco:

Spotting a rare candy rock :

In the Holy Jim parking lot, I traipsed through the brush to locate the fresh water that my son and I stashed yesterday afternoon.  I felt a little like Katniss from The Hunger Games.  Just like in The Hunger Games, water is the number one commodity in trail running (calories being number 2, which I had plenty of).  Though I wasn’t particularly thirsty (I had just gone through 60 fluid ounces on the trip there), my mouth practically watered when I pulled out one of the hidden jugs.  I set it on a log, unpacked some calories and refilled my hydration pack to the brim.  That water looked so beautiful and precious to me, I was tempted to pour it over my head and shower in it.  But alas, the weather was too cool for such an act.  So, I hid the jug back among the others and headed up Holy Jim. 

Holy Jim was a bear, yes, but not a grizzly bear.  I found the 5 mile climb laborious, but enjoyable.  It was like meeting up with an old friend (one of life’s greatest treats).  On the way up Holy Jim, I devised a plan to conquer the final 2.5 mile ascent to Santiago Peak.  I decided I would use those couple miles to “rest-up.”  Instead of struggling by running up that thing, I chose to hike it.  In fact, I forbade myself to run any portion of it, EXCEPT the flat part that reaches only about a tenth mile. 

A Stream Crossing on Holy Jim:

Hiking the last couple miles to Santiago Peak:

That’s not me on the motorcycle:

A view from the summit:

Standing on the Summit:

I only lost about ten minutes hiking to the peak instead of attempting to run it.  That’s a lot of time for only 2.5 miles.  HOWEVER, I felt relaxed.  The ascent was still difficult.  But I never grew angry.  I didn’t bash myself (that is fill my brain with negative self-talk).  I reached the peak delighted.  And on my trip down, I felt stronger than usual.  I think I’m going to work on this approach more. 

The next three miles back down were good.  The final ten miles were an utter struggle.  I ran most of them, and when I found myself trying to run ridiculous inclines, I forced a fast hike (as fast as I could manage anyhow).

Today’s training run:  Success, even though The Bigger Loop took me quite a bit longer than I hoped.  At least I know where I stand (or run), and have a time to work with. 

I feel like time is fleeting.  But I will not fret.  Time on my feet, that’s my goal this month.  Putting in the miles!

Not So Good News

First the quick one – I actually broke ANOTHER camera.  Monday, I’ll embarrassingly put in a claim on my replacement plan / extended even-if-I –accidentally-throw-it-off-a-mountain warranty.  (Not to worry though, I still have pictures to share, and while I’m waiting for my reimbursement check, I always have my phone if I absolutely have to take a photo). 

Secondly, while I did not fracture/break my foot, unfortunately I cannot blame the no-support, no-give sandals for my foot pain.  The pain has returned, in abundance, but sporadically.  And I have self-diagnosed my problem as plantar fasciitis.  How do I know?  Well, I have a textbook case.  I run on uneven surfaces.  I’ve been running in worn shoes.  The pain is in the heal and arch.  It’s the worst in the mornings, etc. 

Friday, before I knew that I had this dreadful condition, I drove up into Saddleback Mountains (a very long, rocky dirt road) to stash 200 flluid ounces of water at Modjeska Peak for this morning’s long run.  The drive was delightful and scenic, but also very stressful.  I had to focus so hard on my driving (so that  didn’t wreck my truck or drive off the mountain), that I was actually drained upon returning.  It seemed actually more tiring to drive the route than to run it.  (I wouldn’t be able to run it though, carrying all that water).

A proud trail runner, for the first time stashing water in the mountains by myself : )

The drive down from Modjeska Peak:

Well, since I had already stashed water and planned to meet Cody L. for another training run, I wasn’t going to miss this morning’s run.  Pain or no pain.  Thing was, when I got out of bed at 4:30 AM, I practically fell to the ground when I stepped down on my left foot.  I iced my foot as I got ready and I was on the road by 5:00 AM wondering how I was going to do this.

First off, I cut our route short about 5 miles.  Instead of 28, we went for nearly 23.  It included two peaks, Santiago and Modjeska, lots of elevation, and a delightfully cool morning (but not minus the gnats).  I’m certainly grateful for Cody.  If he hadn’t made the long trip out, I may have not got in this run. 

Setting off up Holy Jim under darkness:

As I worked into this morning’s run, my foot pain became very bearable.  We made decent time to Bear Springs (top of Holy Jim), though we were five minutes slower than last week.  The best thing was, I made it to Santiago Peak in 2:46 (my record is 2:45 from what I recall).  Cody made it in 2:40 (but it was only his first time there – I have been to “the peak” countless times now).  It’s a hard, hard climb for me.  Very stressful.  To deal with it, I absolutely cannot think about the climb while going up.  I pretty much can’t think about anything.  I just moved forward, running some, mostly power-hiking that final couple miles to Santiago Peak.  The views made up for some of the struggle.  And of course, finally arriving, made up for all of the struggle.

The Main Divide on the way to Santiago Peak:

I saw one runner coming down about a half mile from the top.  I didn’t recognize him. But I bet he was training for Twin Peaks.  We also saw 2 other runners at the peak.  I know one of them, and he’s definitely training for the ultra, so I bet the other guy was as well. 

A quick stop at Santiago Peak to take in the view (beneath Cody’s hat, my Saddleback Marathon t-shirt – very cool that my race shirts can go to good use : )

Group Photo:

Looking  back at Santiago Peak on the way to Modjeska Peak:

The last 8 or so miles were downhill and quite painful for me.  My foot pain became progressively worse with each step.  Four other runners training for Twin Peaks (3 who I know) met up with us on Upper Holy Jim as they made their downhill trip from the peak. They gave me some good advice on treating my foot condition.  One of the guys said I can get rid of it in five days.  FIVE DAYS!  I am following his regime, you can be sure.  (I’ll go into that in another blog entry).  

Cody and the other four guys made it down to the lot before me.  I urged each one who passed not to wait or worry about me.  (Men tend to fear that I  need help or can’t be alone if I’m having trouble on the trails.  It’s sweet and part of their upbringing.  But really, I had to do this by myself).  My pain was increasing, and I didn’t need an extra voice, caring hand or someone to try and keep up with.  I basically tilted forward and with a blank mind plodded down Holy Jim, sure in a lot of pain.  At the same time, I was oh so grateful that I was able to make this run after all. 

As I sit here writing this entry, I’m rolling a tennis ball beneath my foot.  Now it’s time to put a sock on and ice.  I shall conquer this!  I must if I’m to run Twin Peaks.  I can’t attempt 50 miles with this foot. 

Today’s profile:

With A Cheerful Heart

I knew that I had to get back to Santiago Peak before my big race just a month a way.  The last couple times I ran to the peak, I experienced great stress.  I threw a tantrum here and there, and just couldn’t beat the negative self-talk.  When I’m alone, the peak is a HUGE mental battle for me.  I could not let the last time before the race be an anxious, terrible trip up there. 

My main goal today:  run to Santiago Peak with a cheerful heart.  That’s right.  No anger.  No tantrums.  Just go up there, and accept it as it is.  If the trip was easy after all, there’d be trash all over the place, and tons of people and I probably wouldn’t do it.  So, why the heck have I been beating myself up for the struggle being so difficult?  Silly.

An empty Holy Jim Parking lot, prepping for this 16 mile run:

The weather did not cool down for me today.  In fact, it was HOT.  The gnats also had returned.  But they were little, baby-like gnats.  I wondered if a new group had hatched.  These little guys were not so bothersome, especially because their numbers weren’t huge.  One did get lodged in my nostril though, which made nasal breathing a little difficult.  Unsure what to do, it donned on me to attempt what I’ve seen many of my male friend runners do – blow a snot rocket.  What the heck.  With one attempt I blew that gnat out and was one my way up Holy Jim.  My first snot rocket ever!

I ran Holy Jim in its entirety.  I felt good.  I drank my fluids at a rate though that worried me.  I had only brought along 82 fluid ounces.

Me and my gnat friends:

Gorgeous views on the way up:

When I hit the Main Divide, I concentrated on a strong power-hike for about a mile.  I ran the flats, and the shady up hills.  No negative thoughts crossed my mind.  When it got really tough, I said to myself, “It is what it is,” and I prayed for strength.

I made it to the peak from the Holy Jim Parking in lot in 2 hours, 45 minutes.  This is going to be a time problem in Twin Peaks.  But . . . it is what it is.

A quick pose at Santiago Peak:

Running down from the peak, I felt stronger than usual.  I hit Upper Holy Jim with a cheerful heart.  It seemed that someone had done some work on this technical single track since I’d last run it.  Rotten wood was thrown to the sides.  And some of the ruts had been filled.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself taking this trail as quickly as possible.  And then wouldn’t you know it?  (It always happens when you think things are going good).  I took a hard, I mean HARD fall. 

When I hit the rocky terrain, my calves knotted into cramps.  As usual, it happened in slow motion, and I remember saying out loud, “Straighten your legs!  Straighten your legs!”  I was able to get out of the leg cramps, but in doing so somehow ended up on my back.  I sat up to notice a gash on my knee, and the drip, drip, drip of blood coming from my elbow.  I didn’t have enough fluids to rinse my elbow and see just how badly it was injured.  But the dripping slowed soon enough.  And after sitting there for a bit to take in the scenery, I stood up, with no anxiety or anger in my heart, and continued onward down toward the Main Divide.

Upper Holy Jim:

Where I fell:

Though I recovered from the fall well, things got even tougher.  I RAN OUT OF FLUIDS.  With three miles left to the spring, I kept my downhill run at a slow pace.  Heat exhaustion was beginning to take its toll when I finally made the spring which was barely a dribble.  I waited there in the shade filling my handheld again and again until I had about 40 fluid ounces in my pack.  I drenched my head, my face and washed my elbow, though it was too painful to dislodge all the pebbles from my skin.  I filled my handheld as well, and after a good twenty minutes in the shade, I finally made my way down Holy Jim, with a cheerful heart.

Running The Main Divide toward (lower) Holy Jim:

At the spring, finally refreshed and ready to finish up this run:

Nearing the final stretch of Holy Jim, ahhhhh, the lovely shade (& gnats too : )

The profile:

Fit for a Mountain

I made it to the Saddleback Mountains this morning and set off running up Holy Jim at the first sign of dawn.  Right away, gnats swarmed my face, and I thought that I’d name today’s blog “Die-Gnats-Die!”  The little devils managed to get behind my sunglasses.   This provided great motivation to pick up my pace and get out of the shaded forest area of Holy Jim. 

Before I could escape the gnats, I came upon a large fallen tree that made the trail impassable.  So, I hiked the slope up and around its yanked out roots.  About 2 miles up the trail, only one gnat remained hovering about my face. 

Even though I’m wasn’t “training,” I worked hard.  I’m not “training,” because that word simply stresses me out too much lately.  Why is it such a stressor?  Because I’m beginning to feel I don’t stand a chance in heck at finishing Twin Peaks within the time requirements.  And instead of trying, I gave up for about a week.  But I just can’t give up.  I’m one of those stupid people.  I simply don’t know when to quit! 

Reaching the top of Holy Jim Trail (Bear Springs):

Disappointed somewhat in my time getting to Bear Springs, I made that left onto The Main Divide and kept on running.  I usually hike quite a bit of that beginning truck trail.  Today, I ran and continued to run.  Eventually though, I grew so worn down, I had to stop.  Yes, that is STOP and rest.  I about lost my mind about there.  With the sun beating down and no one in sight, I yelled out a profanity and threw my empty handheld to the rocky ground.  I held back a huge urge to pick up the rocks and start heaving them off the mountain.  I ran a few more steps, water bottle in hand, and the anger welled up again.  This time I threw my handheld on the ground and stomped on it like a little child throwing a fit. 

Well, I pulled myself together and made it to Santiago Peak in a total of 3 hours.  I wanted at most 2:45. 

Santiago Peak:

After a mountain top view and a cool down from my mountain fit, I had an enjoyable 8 mile run back down to the canyon.  I tripped several times (without falling!)  The heat bared down on my legs so terribly, it felt like someone was holding torches near them.  And it was still fairly early.  I came across several hikers making their way up, all with miserable looks on their faces.  I thought to myself, “Why do they put themselves through that.”  And then I laughed. I put myself through that.  I get this in return:

Miles run this morning:  16.17

This Week’s Big Fail

The upper insides of my arms were raw from chaffing yesterday.  (Note to self: I’m never again going to wear a sleeveless shirt with side seams when I run).  Anyway, I rustled around in the bathroom cupboards for something to help the rawness.  And can you believe it – I actually found a couple tubes of baby rash ointment.  Wow.  Our youngest son is 7 years old. This stuff was old.  I thought I try some anyway, and sure enough, it helped sooth the pain of chaffing on my arms.

I left the house this morning in the dark, 4:30 AM, for an early start on my long run.  I drove through Trabuco Canyon unable to even see the outline of Santiago Peak.  I could see the taillights of another truck driving the gravel/dirt road.  On the side of this road, I noticed a parked truck.  A woman and young girl (about 8 years old, with long dark hair) stood outside the truck by themselves in the pitch-black dark. They seemed to be waiting for something.  They didn’t wave me down.  I didn’t stop. 

As I drove deeper into the canyon, the truck up ahead pulled over.  I passed him and noticed a mountain bike upright in the bed of his truck.  He had the light on in the cab and was looking down on something.

I passed him and drove on along this bumpy road, and passed another car parked at an angle along the road.  There were no lights.  It was apparently empty.

When I finally made it to the trailhead it was still dark.  And so I sat and waited for the sun.  I didn’t need it to “rise.”  I just wanted the sky to lighten a bit before I took off running up the mountain.  Then the truck I passed (the one with the mountain bike) pulled into the lot.  He parked a couple spaces away.  And we both sat in the dark . . . waiting.

I applied Glide to all the other places that normally chafe (waistband, the lines of my sportsbra, etc).  I applied sunscreen and turned on my garmin.  And I continued to sit.  Unlike yesterday when I didn’t think, and just ran, this morning, I sat there and thought. 

I had my 24 mile route all figured out.  I packed some plastic bags to clean up some of the empties at the “secret water stash.”  I was even wearing “short” shorts to get rid of that tan line half way up my thighs.  I was there baby! I was there!

And then a strange thing happened.  I started thinking about the heat.  I started thinking about all that time alone and not seeing my family until about 3PM, and I got LONELY.  Sad, kinda pathetic lonely.  Pity-party lonely. 

Now, I have run alone many times.  I have been alone many times.  I enjoy alone time.  I enjoy running alone.  But being alone, and being lonely are too separate things.  Being alone is joyful and peaceful.  Lonely is miserable. 

Looking up at the sky as it started to change color from black to grayish-blue, I thought about how I just couldn’t do it.  I could not run those 24 mountain miles alone.  Not today.  I was dang sick of the heat, and I would be lonely.  I HATE lonely. 

“But,” I thought to myself.  “It would be absolutely ludicrous to go home.”  That would mean two hours driving total, not to mention prepping for this run.  “LUDICROUS.”

“No it wouldn’t,” I answered back defiantly.  “I can do whatever I want!”

And so as the sky grew a little brighter, I turned the key in the ignition and began driving back out of Trabuco Canyon.  The time was about 6:00 AM when I drove past the car parked haphazardly that I saw in the dark on the way in.  It looked like two guys were sleeping in the two front seats.  I could clearly see one, the other was slumped down too far for me to see anything but the top of his head.  When I drove past, I looked into my rear-view mirror and saw that the passenger door was wide open.  The site was just too alarming to ignore. 

I backed up on the dirt road up next to the car and yelled “HEY!” 

No response.  Mind you, my car was idling right next to their’s.  “ARE YOU GUYS ALRIGHT?”

Neither of the men responded.   I could tell the guy in the passenger seat was breathing.  But I wasn’t going to get out of my car and look into their’s further to make sure they were okay.  So, I called the sheriff’s.  I really hoped I wasn’t getting them in trouble – the guys after all, may have been passed-out drunk.   I seriously worried over their condition.  After relaying their location, description, car type and license plate, I took off.  I didn’t want to wait around in case something terrible had occurred.  When I arrived to the canyon lot, I told the first sheriff arriving where to locate the car.  And then I drove home.

I’ve been in kind of a rut ever since.  But I will crawl out soon.  Very soon.

Next week’s running plan:  SKIP THE PLAN.  I’m going to run whatever I want to run.  It’s “Easy” week coming up, so I thought that’d be a good week to be on my own schedule.

Thanks for reading about my fail.

Hard Week’s Long Run

Today I ran 24+ miles in the Saddleback Mountains.  I began in the dark and ended in sweltering heat.  I began loaded down with fluids.  I ended with one handheld filled from a small spring on the way down the mountain.  I had no choice but to load myself down with fluids.  It’s unfortunate (possibly, maybe not) that the only months to train for an autumn ultra is during the hottest months in Southern California.  Even with all the water that I carried (around 110 fluid ounces), I knew that still wouldn’t be enough.  I planned on two re-fill points, one at a secret stash for trail runners, and the other at Holy Jim’s spring.  When refilling at the “secret” stash, another runner came into the deep brush.  I think that I startled him. I heard him approach and amusingly made a step to hide.  Hilarious.  Ended up he is an ultra-runner that I’ve seen countless times, but have never met.  What an apropos place for an official meeting.  We departed in opposite directions.  But I was oh so glad to learn that I wasn’t the only nut out running in the Saddleback Mountains today. 

If you’re returning you may recall that I’m running my weeks, “Hard, Hard, Easy.”  This is the first week of “Hard.”  You probably also know that I’m having a difficult time with “training.”  It is making me feel weak, and it’s putting fret into my heart.  Frankly, I don’t like it much. 

I went out today thinking, “Just do the miles, try not to think about training.”  Most of the time when I run, I don’t think.  I try to stay in the moment.  That’s when running is most comfortable for me.  Today, I succeeded somewhat in not fretting over THE BIG RACE come October.  And I did have some fun.   Tiring, hard fun.

As always on these crazy runs, I broke it into sections/segments.  Otherwise, I don’t think I could accomplish this type of run.  But I did, all six segments.  And oh yes, do purchase a protection plan for your cameras.  Because I did, and already have a new camera.  Yes!  (And that’s with even admitting that I dropped my camera, and pretty much every camera I’ve broken).

The Pictorial:

Pre Run / Holy Jim Parking lot after a dang bumpy half hour off-road drive – READY TO RUN!  Don’t worry, it’s not as lonely as it looks.  At least 7 hikers just took off ahead of me:

Section 1:  Segment Blissful.  Approximately 5 miles, Blissful, included Trabuco Trail (a lush beauty mixed with rocky desert) and my old friend, West Horse Thief, a delightful, STEEP switch-back, when taken in the cool morning air:

Section 2:  Segment Awesome Views, approximately 3 miles of rolling, ridgeline, truck-trail running along The Main Divide:

Section 3:  Segment Gnat-ville, 4 miles, 2 miles down Indian Truck Trail and 2 miles back up, with plenty of gnats flying up my nose and crawling on my face:

Section 4:  Segment Hell, approximately 5 miles up The Main Divide to Santiago Peak.  It got pretty tough for me during this segment.  Still, I was able to plow past the hikers starting up after their Holy Jim hike.  I am improving a bit:

Section 5: Segment Relief, 3 miles back down The Main Divide to Holy Jim Trail.  I met two young women resting in the shade on their way up.  They exclaimed, “We saw you FLYING up this earlier.  You are good!”  Flying?  I laughed at the word, but if they say so, okay, I was flying.  LOL.  I thanked the young ladies.  When they asked how often I did this, and I told them once a week, they both laughed and further exclaimed, “You’re crazy.”  Fun times:

Section 6: Segment Homeward Bound, 5 miles down Holy Jim in the sweltering heat, focusing on the moment, so that I didn’t fall:

The whole: