Split Shift

I drove to the trailhead under darkness.  The last five miles is off road and took 30 minutes to drive.  I waited for the sky to lighten before venturing out of the truck.  I was ready.  I was ready to run up the mountain.  A ranger drove up just as I made my first steps.  He told me that they had a dozen rescues over the weekend.  I’m so glad one of those wasn’t for me.

A half mile into my run up Holy Jim gnats swarmed my face.  “Embrace the gnats,” I told myself.  That’s what I always tell myself.  And it works. 

Embrace the gnats!

As the forest thickened, the gnats doubled, tripled.  I breathed them up my nose.  They flew into my ears.  And they flew behind my glasses and into my eyes.  I swiped at them just so that I could breathe freely.  Then I changed my plan.  I’d just run up to the top of Holy Jim and come back (as opposed to running to the peak). 

Those tiny flies were relentless!  They followed me even when I ran higher up the trail.  Soon, my ability to embrace the gnats disappeared. 

At about mile two a bee stung my head.  I must have taken off my hat at one point, then put it back on over a bee.  Well, I didn’t know for sure if the sting came from a bee or a hornet.  A bee only stings once, a hornet can sting again and again.  You can understand why I wanted that thing off my head in a hurry.  I tore my hat off and grasped at the flying insect that was tangled in my hair.  I pulled at it again and again until I finally loosened the thing.  And I flung it to the ground.  (I couldn’t find it, but I think it was a bee).  Well, I had enough of this.  I turned around and ran back to the truck for a total of a 4.12 mile run. 

Second Shift

About 3:30 PM I took off in my truck headed for trails in San Juan Capistrano that run alongside Trabuco Creek.  I do believe, can’t be sure, but I’m pretty positive that when I ran this trail last June or July, I said that I would NEVER run this trail in the summer again.

For good reason!  Arroyo Trabuco trail was hot as hell today.

Yay!  Some shade:

Though a tiny portion of the trail looked like this --

Most of the time the trail looked like this --

And most of the time, I looked like this – utterly miserable:

I managed to run 8.28 miles in the afternoon with a split shift total of 12.40 miles.  The best thing about today’s runs was that I was running (oh, and that I didn’t die). Other than that, they pretty much sucked (excuse my language).  I’m ready for summer to end.

Brutal!

I knew the third consecutive run of “Hard” week would be difficult.  I didn’t think the run would be brutal.  Ten miles, that’s all the plan said.  But I decided to run my ten miles on a Holy Jim Out-And-Back.  That’s a five mile trail in The Saddleback Mountains that ends at The Main Divide (Bear Springs).  It’s a tough five miles up (even down).  I’ve got it down now that I can usually run it all. 

I didn’t feel rested this morning, as I haven’t been sleeping well.  And I felt a little weak.  "Don’t care about time,” I told myself, “just do the miles.”

Slightly muggy and a little cool at the same time, about a thousand, yes ONE THOUSAND gnats decided to accompany me during the first two miles of Holy Jim.  I’m sure that I breathed in half a dozen through my nose. 

The downed tree still blocked Holy Jim just after the water falls turnoff.  That was delightful, hiking up the mountainside with a thousand gnats buzzing my face so that I could get around the tree.  I pushed it a little harder, though my pace was still slow, just to get away from those tiny bugs.

I tired easily running up that switch-back that I used to call “Holy Crap” instead of Holy Jim.  Today it felt once again like “Holy Crap.”  I felt a little light-headed and even hiked a few portions of single track.  Then I finally settled in and began enjoying the immense views.

I don’t know how this occurred, but at about 3.5 miles up, my camera flew out of my hand and off of the mountain.  You can imagine my horror as I looked down the side to see it resting lightly on a small tumbleweed-like plant.  The camera was probably about twenty feet down, so I needed to get down there.  Somehow.  I stood sideways at the edge figuring the best way to get down to my camera when the ground beneath me gave away.  I immediately fell and began sliding.  I quickly slid past my camera, unable to reach it.  I grabbed at plants on the way down to easily uproot everyone of them.  This slope was not secure!  Everything I touched went down with me. 

Many, many things go through my mind when stuff like this happen.  I knew instinctively to push my body into the mountainside.  I didn’t want to go airborne.  And I also knew instinctively to dig, dig, dig my foot into the mountain wall as I slid.  What I thought was this:  “Dang it!  It’s going to take ‘them’ forever to find me if I slide all the way to the ravine!”  I even kind of chuckled over the fine mess that I had found myself in.  My main thought, not really thought, but feeling was, “Don’t fall backward!” 

I finally dug my foot deep enough into the slope to stop my sliding.  And I began the slow process of digging in and climbing back up.  I looked for my camera on the way, didn’t see it at first.  Apparently, it slid some too in my avalanche.  Thank goodness there it was laying, as if not a care in the world, in that loosened plant, it’s lens still extended.  (Also, thank goodness I bought that extended in-case-you-throw-your-camera-off-a-mountain-and-break-it warranty). 

Climbing back up onto the trail, I found myself covered in dirt.  I had a minor cut on my left hand, a gash on right elbow (with a tiny bit of skin flapping),and welts up and down my left arm (that I didn’t notice until I got home).

Needless to say, the remaining trip to Bear Springs was excruciating!  Fatigue overwhelmed me, but eventually I made it.  I walked about on top, into the sun mainly to get away from my newly found gnat friends.  You can’t imagine how dang glad I was to have reached the top.  It was only five miles, but heck, what a brutal five miles.   I ran back so, so, so happy that I had only five miles left of mostly downhill.  And best of all, my camera still worked (for now!). 

I made decent (not good) time on the way back, especially considering my fatigue.  I even worked (ever so slightly) on my pivots around the switch-back turns.  And then of course those ONE THOUSAND gnats were back to greet me and run in the last two miles of this brutal run. 

“Through [the] Strange Hours [I] Linger Alone.”

Hectic, hectic week.  With next week the last of summer work for me, I have been busy with work, busy with anxiety over students succeeding, busy with other issues that I’ll leave unwritten.  Needless to say, I didn’t get my first two training runs of the week.

I set off this morning before sunrise, headed for Saddleback Mountains.  Though today’s plan dictated 12 miles, I opted for a 14 mile loop up Holy Jim Trail to The Main Divide, down West Horsethief, and ending with Trabuco Trail back to my truck. 

I get a little giddy when “The Saddleback” comes in sight – driving the toll road this morning, there she is!:

I arrived to a canyon lot and noticed only two cars – both of them apparently empty, one locked up, the other with its windows down, inside a battery type light that was lit on the dashboard.  That spooked me for no reason other than I found it unusual.  I drove the canyon road to Holy Jim parking lot quicker than usual.  It’s a rocky ride – very bumpy in my little truck.  About a half mile from the Holy Jim parking lot, I came upon two sheriff squad cars, both of the officers standing in the road. 

I slowed and rolled down my window.  “Is it safe to go in there?”

“Sure,”  one of the officers said.  “You going for a run?” 

I wondered how he knew, but then realized my garmin gave me away when he said he had the same garmin.  After talking running for a bit, the officers told me to let them know if I saw a certain type of car (which they described to me). 

“Should I be scared of it?”

“Oh no,” they replied.  “Just wanting to make sure they’re all right.”

When I told them that I didn’t have cell service in the mountains, they said, that was okay, that if I saw the car, mark the trail and let them know when I’m done.

Hmmm.  Now, that was odd.  As I drove away, I wondered why I would need to mark the trail, when it donned on me that they thought that I might see it off the road, as in, drove off the mountain.  Yikes. 

Spooked again, being the only person in the Holy Jim lot:

Holy Jim was quiet, lonely and tranquil.  Beautifully cool and a bit dark, I ran this portion with a slightly aching right hamstring and calve.  About 1 mile in I stopped to stretch the right leg and spotted a rather large campsite hidden deep in the brush, camouflaged a great deal by the forest.  With no road access to the sight, I was tempted to investigate, but then decided to run off quietly, spooked again that perhaps I noticed something I wasn’t suppose to notice. 

A half mile later, I noted from my garmin, I ran upon a red beach towel spread out over a boulder.  This was about the fourth thing out of the ordinary – most of them silly – bit still.  I couldn’t wait to get out of the shaded forest of Holy Jim’s Trail.

I didn’t make great time running up Holy Jim.  But I took deep breaths of beauty and enjoyed myself.  I didn’t see a single person.  And . . . and I wasn’t fooled by a false summit.  I think I’ve finally got the five miles memorized.  (A false summit to me is a high point on the trail that I either think is the last of the hill or some kind of turning point, like another trail head, etc, and it ends up not being so.  A false summit is a big mental downfall in my running). 

The gnats finally found me on The Main Divide.  They were thick at times, other times thin.  More than once I breathed in 3 or 4 through my nose at once!  Out of tissue, my shirt came in handy. 

The Main Divide:

By the time I reached West Horsethief, I would say that my mental game was pretty much lost.  I couldn’t shake the negative talk.  And though I told myself to take this steep switch-back swiftly, I ran it too cautiously.  Extremely rocky, I just couldn’t get over the fear factor.  I thought about how much time I’d lose in Twin Peaks running down West Horsethief, and frankly, that pissed me off. 

At the bottom of Horsethief, I forced myself to shake off the negative stuff and just enjoy the rest of the run.  And that is what I did.  I ran that last very long 3 miles a bit slowly, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Reaching West Horsethief:

Entering W. Horsethief:

This is how I felt running down, slipping and sliding, tripping along the way down West Horsethief Trail:

But the view was awesome:

ps.  If you wonder why I punctuated the title of this blog that way, it’s because I used a Doors song line, but switched out two words, which I bracketed. 

To the Top, Please

The alarm went of at 4:15 AM and I immediately jumped up knowing this was my last run to Santiago Peak this month – my last run TO THE TOP before I run it again as a pacer in October. 

I drove in the dark.  Then I drove in the fog (scary).  I pulled into the lot at 5:30 to meet Hank.  A couple minutes later, we witnessed a flashlight moving down the road with a runner behind it.  That was Mark, fellow trail runner that I had the great pleasure of meeting for the first time this morning.  Then Michael pulled in, and we were off in my truck down that bumpy road to the trailhead.  They seemed to not mind my driving. 

Ready to hit the dirt (First off, behind us: Holy Jim, a 5 mile ascent) From left to right: me, Michael, Mark, Hank.

The gnats were out in abundance.  My pack was heavy because I’m so paranoid of running out of water, I packed it in abundance (about 136 fl. oz.!)  And my shoulder was still sore from this week’s fall. 

My calves stiff from the start, which by the way (if I haven’t already mentioned ) was uphill, I tried to pick up my pace some to keep up with the guys.  But they were far stronger and adept to running Holy Jim.  I hoped to make the top of Holy Jim in better than 1:50 (my time the last time I ran this trail).  The guys waited for me every couple miles, which really, really put the pressure on to keep up the pace.

View going up Holy Jim

The heaviness of my load weighed on me as I ran all of Holy Jim Trail.  I thought about stashing some  water and picking it up on the way down.  I realize this sounds odd, being that I was running up a mountain and all, but I was just too lazy to find a good hiding place for my water, not to mention taking my pack off to do so.  What I did instead was this:  I drank up.  With a cool breeze and reported temperatures of only 82F, I figured I was safe to do this.  Thing was, I didn’t figure how guzzling would upset my stomach.  At one point, a gnat flew down my throat.  Attempting to cough it out, I nearly vomited on my way up the mountain. Quickly, I decided, just SWALLOW THE GNATS (as Michael said, “consider it protein” : )  I took a big swig and down went that annoying creature. 

Fun.  Really.

I made it to the Main Divide in 1:45.  Mark turned back when we hit the Main Divide (prior engagement) and the remaining three of us took off for that difficult quest to the peak.  Forward, forward, forward – that’s all I could really do.  The guys up ahead, they waited for me around Upper Holy Jim.  And then onward and upward we ran/hiked.  A motorcycle drove by.  Then a brand new Range Rover slowly moved by me.  The driver rolled down the window and asked if I wanted a ride.  Did I look that desperate?  LOL.  I declined. 

I’m guessing 1.5 miles remain to the Peak.  When I took this picture, the ranges were moving in and out, that is, closer and then further from me.  Perhaps I needed more calories going up.

About a 1/2 mile left, I AM RUNNING OUT OF GAS.  This was the view to my left.

Finally at the top!

I found Hank and Michael resting in the shade at Santiago Peak.  And even though I felt I made terrible time, I actually made the peak a whole THREE minutes quicker than last time. 

View of The O.C.

Kinda shuffling around/goofing about at the peak

We took Upper Holy Jim down, a fully exposed single track.  It grew quite hot (but I had plenty of fluids) and technical as we went along.  From the Main Divide we made (Lower) Holy Jim which provided much needed shade.  At that point, I made sure one more time that Hank wasn’t having second thoughts about me pacing. 

I said, “Hank, I can’t hold a candle to you.  Do you think you can keep up this pace for thirty miles?”  (I will meet him at about mile 32 as his pacer.)  He laughed and said, “I’m going to be DEAD at mile 30, I just need you to get me in to the finish line.”  I don’t think he’s going to be “dead.”  But believe me, I am going to do my best to get him to the finish line.  I know these mountains, and even in the dark, I feel confident I can do that, especially since I will be starting off fresh on the Main Divide (I don’t have to make the climb up like today). 

Anyway, the guys ahead of me as we ran back down Holy Jim, I noticed Michael react to something, like a sting.  He abruptly stopped, grabbing his leg.  Hank stopped as well, and I feared a snake bite.  Ends up, a bee stung him and as a reflex Michael kicked a rock, which gave him the worst damage on his toe.  I actually carry antihistamines ever since a wasp attack about a year ago on Backbone trail in Malibu Creek State Park.  Michael took one, but his leg still swelled up from the sting.  These guys were amazing on the trail today.  A sting and a crushed toe would have taken a smile off my face.  It didn’t take a smile off Michael’s face. 

And we were off again!  Several cyclists made their way up the mountain in this heat, and they didn’t look happy.  I’ve heard, cycling is all about suffering.  But why not take off when it’s cooler?   One guy looked so miserable (he was walking his bike), I said something stupid like, “You’ve only got a little bit of sun to go.”  Actually he had a good mile before he was going to hit shade!

Upper Holy Jim

Running down Holy Jim (Lower Holy Jim)

I met up with Michael at the spring.  We both topped off, just in case.  When he took off I said, “It’s all about doing the time now.”  We had a little over four miles of rocky descent and about 6 stream crossings remaining.  I took my time using the spring to wet down my head and neck.  When I took off, I focused on kicking out the back so that I wouldn’t trip (and fall!).  Most off all I focused on staying in the present moment.  It’s a LONG haul down.  Amazingly it seems much longer running down Holy Jim than running up it.

Usually I suffer with anticipation on the down trip.  When’s this thing gonna end, where are the falls, will this thing f****ing ever end??? (Trail to Holy Jim Falls means I’m almost finished and it’s shade the remaining run).  It can get pretty annoying mentally, waiting for the end.  I have to report that staying in the moment made for an enjoyable trip down.  It also made for a slower trip down.  That’s okay, because I didn’t fall.  And best off all, anxiety was absent and I got to really enjoy the beauty.  (I tried not to think about how long the guys would have to wait for me at the bottom.)

When I reached the bottom, I ran past the creek, hollered out to my running friends, “I’m alive!”.  Nearby hikers taking in a snack laughed.  I ran to the truck got my ice chest full of water and Gatorade and hauled it back to the creek where we all took time to cool off in the shade and ice-cold creek water. 

Michael relaxes in pool after a nasty fall on the way down (still he’s smiling!!)

Soaking my bare feet

An amazingly refreshed Hank after relaxing by the creek

16.60 miles (26.72 km)  run today (a little under 5,000 ft. /15.24 m elevation gain).

Will I be ready???