Six Deer!

5:40 AM as I drove away from my home the skies were black.  What happened to the sun?  Times are a changing again.  Not too long ago, 6:00 AM runs gave us light skies.

The 3rd runner of today’s group run was running late, she text’d me for us to go ahead without her.  I was hoping we’d meet up on the trail.  We never did.  Sheila and I ran those lovely trails that parallel Wood Canyon together, chatting along the way, enjoying the cool, wet air.  We both love that cool morning air to run in. 

This morning’s run was a heck of a lot easier for me than that 3.25 mile run at Disney.  And it was very nice for a change to stay on the lower trails, rather than huff and puff to the top.  We ran Wood Canyon Trail, then hopped onto Dripping Cave Trail.  From there we hit Mathis and ran down to connect to Coyote Run until it lead us back out onto Wood Canyon.  We ran Wood Canyon to the end.  On the way back, we ran Wood Creek Trail, a beauty of a trail, rarely traveled when I ran straight through a fully developed spider web. Wood Creek dumped us out on Wood Canyon.  And that’s were we saw them – six, yes six, lovely deer grazing in the grass.  That is the most deer I’ve ever seen on the trail at once.  Absolutely amazing.  Part of what trail running is all about!

Dripping Cave

Dripping Cave Trail – an eerie fairy tale

Coyote Run Trail

Wood Creek Trail

More Wood Creek – look at all that leaf litter, sheer delight!

More Delight on Wood Canyon Trail

 

Count ‘Em, 6, SIX Deer!

The Crazy Runners who Hit the Trail in the Dark this Sunday Morning

9.91 miles logged today : )

My Old Friend Mathis

Building up my long run, I cut Tuesday's run short and went for a small loop at Aliso/Wood Canyons Wilderness Park.  Of course I ran to Top of the World, because I want those hills.  The skies were gray which meant cool and misty weather.  Perfecto.  The park was virtually empty -- of people that is.  Squirrels and rabbits scampered about the trails.  And coyotes yelped off of Aliso Creek Trail as well as Wood Canyon.

I ran up a trail that I haven't taken in a long time -- Mathis Canyon Trail.  I remember the first time I ran, crawled, make that, kinda hiked up Mathis Trail.  It was my first trail run in Aliso/Woods, I believe my second trail run, period just about two years ago.  I thought Mathis would never end. 

Today, I thoroughly enjoyed my morning loop.  I picked up my speed down Meadows Trail, took it faster than last time.  I ran back to the Ranger station feeling strong, with plenty of water still in my pack.

Featured Trail of the Day:

Miles ran this morning: 9.08

You Pretty Much Can't Run While Crying

This morning runner went for another evening run, this time before dinner.   The sun was hot.  And as usual on my evening runs (because I'm not an evening runner) I left the house without some, not all, essentials -- those essentials being:  chapstick and gum : )  But I did remember water and music (very important). Oh!  And I remembered my phone, as is evident by the beach pictures below.

I stayed in the moment most of my run, enjoyed the occassional breeze as I ran along the coast.  I circled the campground twice, the front row no-longer flooded.  The surf was loud and rough, kind of roaring.  And then my mind drifted to my car, the fact that it is totalled and that we have to go to the "Totalled" yard to clean out my stuff. ("Totalled" makes it sound worse than it is -- my car is merely 8 years old, and the damage is worth more than the car, therefore it is "totalled.") 

Anyway, my heart began racing as I ran through Doheny beach thinking about my car, and I grew weepy.  I can't face going to see it, but I can't ask my husband to do it for me -- I already ask him for so much.  ANYWAY, it is not good to cry while running.  In fact, you pretty much can't run while crying -- it takes your breath away.  So, I put a stop to that quickly and got back into the moment where I thought about nothing but my surroundings and my form, and I added some sprints in here and there.   

I had planned on ten miles today.  But after running through the wharf, I came across an old high school buddy (and by old, I don't mean HE'S old, because 45 is the new 30, right?).  We chatted some, as it is too much of a gift to pass up when you come across a friend on the run.  Then I ran a little more and powered up the big hill home.

Miles logged this evening: 8.3

I'm gonna miss my car.  We bought it for my baby, just before he was born (my middle boy).  We've driven it to Texas and back again and again.  I planned on driving the car until it died.  I guess it is dead : ( 

Easy Miles

Ran 8.27 "easy" miles Tuesday morning.  I write "easy", because this was a road run, down to the local beaches and through the marina and wharf.  The wind blew against me most of the time, but still the run was definately "easy" compared to Saturday's Malibu Creek. 

All the while, helicopters hovered above the waters at Doheny Beach.  Different helicopters -- news helicopters, military helicopters . . . They were flying in and out of the area ever since I brought my boys to school at 8:00 AM.  By the time I reached the jetty, I feared the worst -- perhaps a surfboarder had drowned, or maybe a jetskier had crashed.  Turns out, there was a whale in the shallow waters just outside of the harbor's mouth.  It was quite the spectacle, dozens of people lined up on the rocks, news vans tried to park as spectators jammed the road with their cars.  I heard on the news when I returned home from this run, "No one knows why the whale swam so close into the harbor, but some speculate that he was looking for a quiet place to rest."

Poor whale certainly didn't find a quiet place today.

Miles logged 8.27

One Week (Exactly) Hence

Exactly one week has passed since Camp Pendleton's Hard Corps Marathon.  And eventhough I was pretty bad off (cramp-wise), I am way better off (recovery-wise) than my first marathon  (SD Rock N' Roll Marathon).  I haven't looked it up, but if memory serves me correctly, two weeks passed before I fully recovered from my first marathon.  This time, aside from cramping the second day, I felt pretty much recovered right away.

I have been preoccupied with life over the past week; it has tired me so.  Still, I set my alarm for a run this morning, though I would have rather slept in.  Actually, so much as been going on, that though I yearned to run during it all, when it comes right down to it, I would rather lay in bed and zone-out.  Zone-out ALL DAY LONG.

But I'm old enough to know what's better for me -- even if I do have a chorizo burrito dinner. : ) (Bad Girl!)

Goal this morning: Hills. Just 2 short weeks from now, I heading up Bulldog (at Malibu Creek Park), and having lost a lot of my hill training during physical therapy, I figured today was a good day for hills. I couldn't make the trails though (not enough time with the stuff going on 'round here), so I ran out my front door, first on a down hill to the highway, which I took down even further for a nice flat run on Del Obispo. I forgot to focus on form, and I forgot my mantra, which probably explains why I never really got out of my slump.

I'm not talking about a terrible slump. It's just that, the euphoria never hit. Then again, I kept the mileage on the low side.

After running the flat portion, I began my climb up Stonehill. Waving at a neighbor who seemed to be shocked at seeing me running up this hill at 7:30 in the morning, I turned left on Selva to run a steady climb, for a good two-thirds of the entire length of Selva. Reaching the high point of the city, I barely noticed the Pacific Ocean (it was a gray day), instead focusing on the music of my ipod.

My mood began to lift some when I finally reached the stairway leading down to The Strands (a small beach that's usually pretty empty). My mood didn't lift because it was empty, but because it was like meeting an old friend.  I love The Strands. 

Running on down to The Strands

The Rock Stacker at it again


Quick Stop at the cliffs to greet my friends

Not much hills to run on the sand.  I ran The Stands (there and back), Salt Creek and Monarch Beach, then began my ascent up the windy trail toward the highway.  I ran under the highway, then up the staircase to the apartments my husband and I lived in for nearly ten years (before the children).  From there I ran up Stonehill, a pretty good climb that I would have never dreamt of running twenty years ago when we lived there. 

The morning was still young when I arrived home, happy to see all my boys awake, eating breakfast and not yet raising havoc.   Miles logged this morning:  8.2

Still I Stagger

Miles logged this cool, cloudless Saturday morning:  6.93

Still I Stand

Almost recovered from this illness, I said, heck with it, and went for a quick marina run this morning.  My breathing was a little off (which is quite rare).  Time was short, so I was sure to add a few sprints.  I ran the entire 5.76 miles with a smile on my face (which explains why it seemed like everyone was smiling at me -- they were just returning the smile : )

Yes, I am a nerd.

Camera phone:  running on the island, the mouth of the harbor up ahead, rock jetty to right

Off the island, approaching small pier where visitors dock, and Marine Institute in background

Past the Marine Institute, the smallest strip of beach in town (The Headlands above and in distance)

To Run or Not to Run with a Cold

I went to Disneyland Friday night with a sore throat.  The trip however, was well worth it, having fun with the boys.  I got drenched on Splash  Mountain.  My clothes were still wet when we arrived home just before midnight.  Woke up Saturday even sicker.  Knowing Sunday was my run day, I napped and got to bed pretty early.  Even with the extra rest, I was still on the go, go, go as I usually am, but not as much.  I did not neglect my physical therapy exercises, and I even fit in an "easy" day at the gym.   

Sunday morning, I woke feeling a little better.  Then after some breakfast and Theraflu Severe Cold I felt just fine, perfectly fine, in fact.  I read somewhere, a long time ago, in some magazine or on some website that I cannot recall, that it's okay to run with a cold, but not okay with the flu.  And so, I laced up those running shoes and headed out the door at high noon. 

Skies were overcast in my beach town.  The air was cool, almost cold, and breezy.  I included my warm ups and cool downs and focused on form as I ran through Doheny, Capo Beach, the wharf and much of the marina.  I still felt strong, which is proof, in my mind, that I am successfully strengthening my core (though I still have plenty more to go).  Best of all:  NO HIP PAIN. 

Back at home, I did a few chores, then prompty fell asleep on the couch for two hours.  I woke miserable, cold and sweaty, the medicine having worn off.  Everyone here says that I shouldn't have run.  But I read somewhere, that it was okay to run with a cold : ))

Miles logged this afternoon:  8.36

Run between Rains

Poured rain all night, and forecasts indicated we were in for the same over the next three days.  So when I woke this morning, and skies were blue, and eventhough I didn't much feel like it, I laced up my shoes and ran out the front door.  White puffy clouds dominated the skies.  Gigantic flocks of seaguls swooped in and out of the river as it flowed into the ocean.  The breeze was slight, yet cold, as a multitude of runners and bikers and walkers took advantage of the break in the rain. 

Miles logged this morning:  6.65

On the Trail Again

I finally made it back out on the trail, this time on a group run.  (Trail runs are far and few between nowadays -- I'm gonna have to bite the bullet and get to the doctor for this hip.)  It was great to see my good running friend Tom and meet a new running friend Jeff. 

The weather was beautiful for this President's Day run.  I dressed for a cold morning and by the first stop, 1 1/2 miles in at the Wood Canyon Trail entrance, I had to tie my longsleeves around my race.

We took Wood Canyon in a little ways, then up Dripping Cave Trail we ran -- gosh it's been ages since I've seen Robber's Cave.  Its roof was covered with lush green ferns. 

Tom turned back at the cave for a 5 mile round trip, while Jeff and I continued on out of Dripping Cave Trail to hit Mathis.  We ran down Mathis toward the creek.  Looking back up Mathis we could see a cluster of runners making their way up the steep climb.  That's something I hardly ever see.  Maybe a cluster of hikers, or cyclists, but not runners on Mathis (not unless I'm in the group).

Jeff and I continued running up Wood Canyon, crossed over the stream and passed the Old Corral and turned around at the bridge at the second stream crossing.  High school cross country runners were making their way in as we ran back on Wood Canyon, chatting along the way, agreeing on everything.  He has much the same philosophy as I regarding running and things.

Pleasant run indeed.  The bummer part was my hip ached a little more than usual for the rest of the day.

Miles logged on Monday:  7

Getting ready to take off

Me, Tom and Jeff

Trails CLOSED. %#3@%&!!!

Off and on storms have closed the local trails.  I keep hoping, checking park websites, phoning, to no avail.  My plan to increase weekly mileage back up to where I was at the end of 2009, looks dim right now.  With the hip so slowly healing and now another injury, a bruised tailbone after a household fall, I haven't been in the best of moods. 

HAVE HOPE.  Have Hope.  I've got to have hope.

I drove down to the wharf this morning for what I was hoping would turn into about a five mile run.  The weather was cold, the skies blue.  Most the runners, and many were out, wore pants, including myself.  I added to that a cashmere beanie, gloves and long-sleeved fleece.  It was beach cold, not Back East cold, so I should have been counting my lucky stars that I could get out there and run in the first place.

I headed off first into Doheny Beach, experiencing difficulty due to the pain from my fall.  I was a little pissed, but plugged away nonetheless.  Thousands of seaguls meandered about the sand, occassionally a flock of a hundred or so of those white birds would rise up against the cool breeze only to settle down a few feet away.  I really tried to focus on these outwardly things, escape from reality -- ordinary troubles, and that dang tailbone.  My anger grew as I ran along the boardwalk, and I knew . . . I knew, this wasn't good for a run.  At best, I was gonna put in about 3 miles at the rate I was going.

Finally, I put in a call home, a rant call, getting some weight off my chest.  And with all intentions of putting in another mile or so, I planned on calling it a day, hopping in the car and heading off elsewhere to fume.  Before turning back, I ran out to the campgrounds, circled it once, noting only a few campers.  I ran back though Doheny, the boardwalk busy with runners and walkers alike.  Noticing something in the sand, something resembling a large palm frawn, I ran off to investigate.  The closer I got, I knew, and that sinking feeling rose.  That palm frawn in the sand was a sprawled out dead pelican, those glorious birds that I love so much.  I turned away quickly, saddened.

I ran out to the rock jetty on the way back to the car.  The usual busy Doheny waves were empty of surfers.  The jetty also was void of fisherman.  I brushed the thought of that poor pelican from my mind, along with every other thing going on right now and ran some more.  Enjoying my music, it seemed, my pace picked up some, and my injury said "ouch" less often.  My hip in fact, did not complain at all.  As I headed back to the car, I thought, "you gotta run through the wharf, at least do that." 

And that I did.  It was beautifully lonesome, a serene Pacific Ocean slapping at its edges.  Coming out of the wharf, I saw my dog walking friend, Sherri.  We waved as we passed one another.  Approaching the parking lot, I thought, heck, just run a little further.  And so I ran alongside the yachts, crossed under the bridge, then ran up and over it.  But then I kept on running.  At first I told myself to do half of the island, but then kept on running and did the entire island, plus a little more, finally arriving at my car feeling better, less angry, a little more hopeful.

Miles logged this morning:  7

Racing Hikers

The weather was cold this morning, dark and cloudy with little spots of brilliant blue poking through.  I ran through Canyon Vistas Park carrying a full Dasani water -- can't find the strap for my handheld in this house.  I suppose it will show up come spring cleaning : ) 

Cholla was tough but I made it on a full run.  Westridge has some ups and downs which makes the climbing a bit easier -- except for the end, which is climb, climb, climb.  About that point, I saw three blonde hikers off in the distance (all dressed in black), and I had it in my mind to pass them.  They had nearly completed their climb and were well on their way to Top of the World.  As I gained on the three, it got so close to the top that I figured that I wouldn't make it there first.  At that very last dip, I lost sight of the three women, and then there they were, practically right in front of me, with mere yards to the finish.  So, I sprinted on past them and laughed at myself for racing three hikers who didn't even know they were in a race.

I stretched at the Top of the World, looked down at the Laguna Beach and a gray Pacific Ocean.  My mood was tranquil.  The run back was delightful.  Small streaks of sun broke through the clouds to shine on the parts of the lush canyon below.  I admired its beauty.

I ran on back into the park, stretched a good deal then headed off to the gym for some light weights, oblivious to the e-mail awaiting me from my work that would throw the whole day off. 

Not out of work, just getting played (politics!)  Anyone know who's hiring in the O.C.? 

Miles logged this morning:  6.0

Who Cares About Groove?

Rain has ceased!  (At least for now : )  I couldn't get out for a run though, until early evening.  It was tough on this old gal, as I am purely a morning runner.  Put me out there in the afternoon or evening, most times, it's like I'm not even a runner.  As was such today -- I never really got my groove.  That's all right though,  really.  I'd rather run with no groove, than not run at all. 

With that hip ache STILL lingering, I headed down the highway and took the pedestrian bridge over into Doheny Beach, which was closed.  Not for runners though, or cyclists, or walkers -- we just went right past the "closed" barrier.  The campground was a ghost town, the state park roads also void of cars, except for rangers who roamed about, saying nothing about the dozens of runners making their way through the "closed" park.

The weather was cold, the sunset magnificent -- orange with puffy clouds.  After turning around at Capo Beach, I snapped a picture of the sky, that doesn't even do it justice.  People literally lined the walkway at Capistrano Beach (which wasn't closed) shooting pictures of this sky.  They had cell phones and cameras with foot-long lenses alike. 

It was dark by the time I ran into the wharf.  I came upon a pelican standing in the middle of the sidewalk behind Jolly Rogers.  I really love those birds, so giant and awkward they seem, though they're quite graceful in flight and lounging out on the sea.  This particular bird didn't move as I approached, then finally at the last moment scampered away.  He seemed injured, othewise he would have flown away.  I wished there was someone I could call to help out my poor friend. 

Restaurant lights cast their shimmering glows upon the black ocean waters of the wharf.  Another magnificent sight -- one great reason to get in a night run in my parts.  What wasn't so magnificent was the pain in my hip.  It worried me some, so I skipped the marina and headed up that big hill home, instead turning north on the highway to finally pick up my car from the shop.

Miles logged today:  6.59

View from Capo Beach taken with phone camera 

Between Storms

Storms have descended upon us here in California.  We're getting slammed.  Branches litter our yard.  Daisy dog gets to stay inside all day.  And the river which is usually near bone dry, now flows with choppy waters.  And boy has that wind been howling.

I was so fortunate.  We got a break just at the right time.  After dropping the boys off at school I raced down to the harbor, parked in the lot and hit the pavement for a short run.  Cold wind blew strong in my face. The clouds looked heavy laden with a downpour ready to burst.

Bundled up good, I ran through Doheny, trees and branches fallen here and there.  One giant tree lay across the parking lot having landed on top of some poor soul's camper.  If they had parked just one space over, it would have missed them (don't you hate it when things happen like that!  I sure hope it wasn't someone's home -- nowadays especially, that's quite likely).

The ocean was brown and choppy -- those giant pelicans simply floating up and down upon it, like it was a gentle magic carpet.  Where asphalt trail used to be, sand now covered.  Road crews worked at shoveling sand out of the Capo Beach parking lot (and why?  I mean, we've got more storms coming).

Rain began to lightly fall on my way back, but I pushed on through the wharf.  It was empty except for a woman I know walking her dog.  We said our hello's, and I pressed on through the shops back up to my car for a quick stretch and drive back home.

I didn't bring my camera, on purpose.  But I did bring my phone, just in case I got stranded in a downpour and needed a ride back to the car -- this trigger happy lady though, couldn't help herself and snapped a few photos again : )

Tree thrown down by the storm (notice the lifted walkway!)

Miles logged this morning:  5.73

IT hurts

This morning running gal took another afternoon run today. I was fooling myself though, and really shouldn't have taken that run. Yesterday, the pain in my IT band disappeared after 6 miles on the elliptical crossramp. I thought, "hey, it's over! I can go ahead and run again."

Not quite. Though my marina run was enjoyable, it was not pain free. And tonight, I suffer, walking about like I'm ninety years old with a bum hip. After much denial, I finally gave in, and have put in for five days (FIVE DAYS) no running.

So all of you out there running next week: know that when I see you, or hear about you, I am green with envy.

Miles logged this afternoon: 5.63

Flat Runs are Fun too : )

I didn’t run this morning – too cold, though it wasn’t actually TOO cold to run. It’s just that I’ve got this IT band thing, in other words, my hip HURTS. I swam yesterday, and the whole 2200 yards was pleasant, no pain whatsoever. As soon as I pushed myself out of that pool – ouch, there it was: IT burnin’. I’ve been wearing ice on my hip like a gun in a holster.

So, I wasn’t eager to jump right out of bed this morning to run in the cold. But I knew that I needed to run, my psyche needed it. Last run was Tuesday (my run up Meadows Trail), and that was way too long ago. Since then, I see people run, and I get jealous (and I’m not really a jealous person!).

After taking it easy this morning, turning in attendance, post office mailings, phone calls, e-mails, etc, then watching my soap, I finally DROVE down to the marina for a run. I never drive down there anymore – I always run out the door for my marina runs. But today was a good day for a perfectly flat run, and the only way for that to happen was to drive down the big hill. Hopefully a flat run would ease the pain (or at least not worsen it).

Turns out, there was some burning during this afternoon’s run. I didn’t care – not one bit; wait that’s putting it loosely, it’s more like I DIDN’T GIVE A DAMN. I wanted to run; I ached to run.

Enjoyable, that’s how I will describe this flat run alongside the harbor waters, despite the burning. I stretched when I drank, and the pain actually seemed to lessen with movement. The breeze was strong and cool. The skies were blue. White seagulls crowded the waters. When I ran beneath the island bridge (twice) the winds rushed against me furiously – it was almost surreal.

I concentrated on posture and listened to my music, thinking about mundane things. I decided that it was time to change out my white canvas purse for my blue, Mayan embroidered one. I wondered if those tiny pin legged white birds tip-toeing about the island were Egrets, or some other bird. I also decided what to post on my literary blog, and which Sunday to post a Top of the World trail run. I thought about some of my students, and how relieved I was to get their progress reports done before the weekend. I thought about how to carve our three pumpkins, and that I’d be better off leaving that to hubby. And sometimes I thought about nothing at all. : ) Bliss.

And oh ya I thought about one more thing: I LOVE THIS SONG (Catch and Release by the Silversun Pickups, I played and replayed it the last two miles of my run : ))

Follow me
Want to live in a fantasy

Quietly

Show you everything you'll ever need

I hope you'll take it
I know you're faking just a little bit

Come on and taste it

Just get excited cuz you're giving in

Come and see

How the wind in your hair will feel differently

Catch and release

The lure above

Who...

Here we are

In the bathwater hold afloat

Later on

Don't say I didn't tell you so

Maybe I didn't but you're taking it

Knew you were faking just a little bit

Now that you'll taste it

No need to fight it cuz you're giving in

Follow me

Down the streams of sweat on your body

Can't believe
The lure was enough

Do you see?

How the wind in your hair now feels differently

Catch and release

The lure above
Who knows?

How this feeling grows?

Was it truly what -Truly worth the starting

Who knows?

Why the engine's blown

Was it truly what -Truly worth the parting

Follow me

Down the streams of sweat on your body

Can't believe

The lure was enough

Do you see?

How in the wind in your hair now feels differently

Catch and release the lure above

Miles logged this Friday before Halloween: 6.5

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j08iHBqiavU&feature=PlayList&p=22D536FC7CADE48C&index=1

Peter's Canyon

When the alarm rang out this morning, I looked at the clock, 5 o’clock, and thought to myself, awww, that’s a joke, right? Some kind of mistake! Why am I waking at 5AM on a Sunday morning?

Didn’t take long before I remembered that I had rsvp’d for a group run today. And not knowing just how long it would take me to drive to Peter’s Canyon, I set the alarm extra early. I left the house extra early too – under darkness, like some kind of crazy : )

I arrived to an elementary school parking lot a good fifteen minutes before start time. No other cars in the lot, I made sure the doors were locked and fought against falling back asleep. I thought to myself, “my husband surely would not appreciate this – his wife sitting in a lonely parking lot, in the dark!” Shhhhh. Nobody tell him, okay?

I really wanted to make this run though, because it seems I run pretty much the same trails again and again – I looked at the chance to run Peter’s Canyon again, as an opportunity (see she is a little whacked!) Peter’s Canyon is the first place that I ran trails back in June 2008.

6:30 AM sharp, the other runners drove up – first Jennifer, then Tom, and right about that time, Sheila and Kelly. The sun had not yet begun to rise when we took off running on the streets towards Peter’s Canyon Park. Sheila, Kelly and I ran the ridge route, proving to be tiresome for me, with some pretty steep climbs, but at the same time, some nice steep down hills. Tom and Jennifer took the canyon route. We all met up on the other side of the lake and ran together back in via the canyon. Right about the end of this wonderful journey, we took a thick creek side trail that reminded Kelly of the Hawaiian rain forests. It was a nice detour and delightful way to end this Sunday run.

Miles logged this Sunday morning: 6.5

Early Morning on the Ridge:

Coming Off Ridge




Meeting up (Sheila, Me, Jennifer, Kelly, Tom)


Heading Back (Tom & Sheila crossing creek bridge)

"Good Girls Don't, But I do."

I want to swim tomorrow, especially because my wrist x-ray came back normal. So, today was run day for sure. But where to run? That was the question of the day (well, actually the first question of the day; a day is filled with lots of questions).

After dropping my two oldest boys off at elementary school, then an hour later, my youngest to preschool, I debated whether to run down to the marina, or to run to the Top of the World. Oh, the dilemmas of life! If I ran out the door for a harbor run, I’d be tempted to run ten or so miles, resulting in way too much time away from chores and other things on the “to do” list. On the other hand, the shortest route to Top of the World is only a 5.9 mile run. Ah – but there’s the drive to and from, adding to the time away from essentials.

What to do? What to do?

Quite frankly, I didn’t spend too much time deciding. The answer was easy. Onward, to the Top of the World!

I love that anxious feeling driving to Canyon Vistas Park, knowing that hot, steep climb up Cholla awaits me with open arms, stoically, non-judgmentally, yet mockingly. I love the twists and turns in the trail, swerving up to the ridge, lots of bike tracks, few shoe tracks. I love that I can’t see the top, but how suddenly after a bumpy rock outcropping and quick right turn, I’m there, at the top of Cholla Trail – as if it wasn’t that bad after all, but really, running up that thing was hell.

But wait, there’s more delight. Upon reaching Westridge, its two plus miles of rolling climbs are laid out entirely before me. I can see it all, and it’s more than intimidating, its frightening : ) But not too frightening. I put one foot in front of the other, once again and ran it all the way to the top. Just toward the end, Westridge’s most daunting climb, I told myself, “don’t look at the top,” and I put my eyes to the ground. Funny; I couldn’t stop looking. It was so difficult to run, I just had to see “how much farther????” I made a deal, don’t look until the song’s over. There was only about ten seconds left of the song, and I looked to the top about three times. Here’s the deal when I concentrate on the top of a tough climb: I slow down, I feel even more tired, and I want to quit. That’s why I try not to look. If I just focus on the moment, think about one foot at a time, I can take the hill a lot stronger.

About half way up these difficult part on Westridge (if you know the trail, it’s the climb that leads up to the Mathis intersection, the same one I fell down months ago), a song piped in through my headphones, a one hit wonder from my high school years, that I haven’t heard since about then. Good Girls Don’t, I’m pretty sure it’s called. The chorus goes, “Good Girls Don’t, Good Girls, Don’t, She’ll be tellin’ you, Good Girls Don’t, but I do.” I laughed out loud and changed the meaning of that song right then and there running up that hill – those words don’t mean what we all thought they meant! Good girls don’t get all dirty and run up ridiculously steep climbs like this, BUT I DO!

it's a middle-age sadness

Everyone has got to taste.
An in-between age madness
That you know you can't erase
Til she picks up her pace.

You're alone with her at last,
And you're waiting til you think the time is right.
Cause you've heard she's pretty fast.
And you're hoping that she’ll pick the trail tonight.
So, you start to make your play,
Cause you could've sworn you thought you heard her saying...

Good girls don't,
Good girls don't,
She'll be tellin' you,
Good girls don't, but I do.

Earlier today, when I was delirious this cracked me up. It’s not so funny now, but funny enough then to get me to the top of that climb. When I finally reached Top of the World I took in the ocean view and quickly turned around for that glorious run back. What a great feeling to finally make it to the top, sweating, dirty, and dead-dog tired! The run down was exhilarating – memories of getting up there, of conquering the monster, seeing the strain on the faces of the bikers who now made their way up. There are some up hills on the way back, it is a ridge trail after all. But Cholla, that’s all downhill, twisting, turning, glorious downhill.

Miles logged this morning: 5.9

ps. The song referenced is from "The Knack."

Seaside Run

We were socked in today in this seaside town. Good thing, because I heard it was hot, hot, hot inland. In our town, it was kinda cold. : )

I took an afternoon run after forcing myself to sleep in. I left the house at 1:30 and ran downtown, having to stop frequently for red lights. I ran by the post office and dropped an envelope in the shoot, and then ran on over to the cliff trail overlooking the marina. The falls which sometimes roar in the wintertime, were bone dry as I ran across the wood plank bridge alongside that cliff. The ocean was a light green, that wonderful, coca-cola bottle green. I ran down the hillside park into the marina, ran out to the cliffs overlooking the tide pools that are so heavily watched by docents nowadays. And then I ran through the crowded wharf and back out to the streets where I hit Highway One and ran it all the way home.

Miles logged this Sunday afternoon: 5.25

Early to Bed, Early to Rise / Emerald Canyon Trail Run

I was on the road under dark skies this morning for a run on a new trail, not actually “new”, but new to me. Not only a new trail, but a new park, again just new to me – Crystal Cove State Park, I’m sure has been around for many years. In fact, I camped at the beach end of it when I was in girl scouts so many years ago.

I met Tom a few minutes before 7:00 AM. One other member, a no-show, we took off about 7:05, on a down hill. That joy was quick to end for a steady climb along Bommer Ridge. The weather was still pleasant, though weather reports promised 90 degrees. I was well prepared with a camelback full of water on my back, and a camera, as well to document the trail.

We took El Moro Ridge to the Old Emerald Falls Trail which was a lovely downhill, cool weathered, single track. And it was pretty much down hill after that til the end of the canyon (or at least as far as we could run). At the bottom of Old Emerald Falls, we came out at Emerald Canyon, which was lush and shaded by giant sycamores and live oaks. The canyon walls were vaguely orangish, at one spot with overhanging outcrops. The sight was gorgeous.

I believe it was around mile four, or around there, that we reached “The Falls.” They were dry, but promised another run, another time, overflowing with water. We ran ahead on past that until the trail ended in Laguna Beach at a chain link fence, perhaps a country club on the other side (I could see tennis courts off in the distance).

At "The Falls"


Dead end past Emerald Falls

On Emerald Canyon (before the climb back up)

Emerald Cyn Trail (Heading back up)

Well, after running down for so long into Emerald Canyon, there was only one way back – and that was UPHILL. Actually, it wasn’t too bad, only a few tough places. Instead of turning off onto the Old Emerald Falls single track, we continued up Emerald Canyon to Bommer Ridge. And continuing on under bright, warm skies, we ended this Saturday morning run with 9.85 miles. I was dang tired.