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.

Test Run

I did not take a new pair of shoes out for a test run today.  Unfortunately, no.  I took my feet out for a test run today, more specifically, my right ankle.  I’m done wearing the boot.  But still, I wore one of those stretchy braces beneath my socks.  (I got it filthy with dirt.)

My ankle felt fine running the uphills and flats.  It was those downhills, especially on the way back that added a bit of pain.  My ankle may or may not have been ready for today (I’m going to be optimistic and say it was).  But dang it, I missed the trails badly.  I was actually having dreams that I could not run trails anymore, that I had to turn back on certain trails (that I’ve never seen in my waking life) because they were too hard.  Too hard!!! 

Aside from testing out the ankle, I also worked on a bit of form today as I ran the rolling ridge overlooking Laguna Beach.  One problem with my form has been that I lean my shoulders forward and look to the ground when running up hill.  This posture makes for tense sore shoulders and a reduction in speed.  During this afternoon’s run, I focused on keeping my head up, even with my hips.  And though I occasionally found myself looking down, I was convinced to keep looking forward when doing so I spotted my first rattler of the season.  She was a beauty.

Ready to run myself back into tip-top shape!

It seemed that I actually made eye contact with this rattler as I ran toward her to snap this photo.  She appeared annoyed. (On the way off this single track, I came upon two lovely young, very young ladies, making their way up.  I warned them to be aware, “I just saw a rattler.”  Upon hearing this, they both SCREAMED, and ran back down the single-track.  I felt badly for scaring them and gave the ladies a quick lesson in rattlers, ie, keep aware, give them their space, etc.  I was glad to see the two turn around and make their way back up.

West Ridge:

Top of the World:

The Profile:

Getting Over The Hump

I’ve been in a slump ever since I somehow managed to injure my shoulder.  Not sure how I did it, but I pretty much couldn’t move it on Monday.  Nursing my arm, icing it, applying heat, I wallowed in fear over my physical abilities for a couple days.  I watched athletic videos, growing more and more worried over whether I could get my act together and REALLY work.  I mean, push myself like a champion.  I feel like I can’t.  Though I have in other ways throughout my life, for example academically.  But never physically.  And that worries me in this whole training processes.

Today, I set my alarm early (AGAIN) and went out on the couch and went back to sleep (AGAIN).  My husband came out about 7:00 AM and asked why I wasn’t running.  I didn’t have anything positive to say.

He came out again at 8:00 AM and begged me to run, “Get back out there,” he said.  “Get over this hump.” 

I still lay there on the couch with no intention to run.  Then finally I couldn’t live with myself any longer worrying, worrying, worrying.  So, I raised myself up off the couch, dressed into some shorts, my Marine Hard Corps Marathon shirt, and trail shoes.  I grabbed a handheld full of water, got into my truck and arrived to Wood Canyon for a hilly, out-and-back run to the Top of the World in Laguna Beach

I made good time, though I found the run difficult.   Best thing for me was 1) I saw a rattlesnake, snapped a picture, then stomped the ground for it to coil so I could take another picture (but it quickly slithered away), and 2) I ran full-out the last hundred yards of this run.  That little ending sprint made me feel strong when I had been feeling so weak.

Socked-in at Top of the World this morning:

Meeting up with a Rattler on an unmarked single-track off of West Ridge:

6.36 miles run this morning (approx. 10.24 km)

2012 Quests

Unlike previous years, I did not decide on my races or any other running goals at the beginning of 2012.  It has taken me until May to mark out my quests for the year.  Some of them I have already conquered – of course Calico, my favorite race of the year, Horsethief Repeats, Meadows Repeats, Big Baz’s 21k and his SJT 50k as well.  But more than half of 2012 remains.  And thus, I decided to get my “list” down.

These are my quests for the remainder of 2012:

1) Tides to Towers Run (A run from my house down to the beach to the Towers on Santiago Peak) 29+ miles

2) A Tides to Towers and back to Tides Run, 58 miles

3) Nanny Goat’s 24 Hour Trail Race, end of May, to benefit the Wounded Warriors (see right top Current Project for my pledge page)

4)  Camp Pendleton Mud Run; I had sworn off mud runs a while back, but with two friends running it, I decided to go ahead and get muddy in 2012.  Plus, Camp Pendleton has great runs.

5) Twin Peaks Ultra, 50 miles in the Saddleback mountains with 15,000’+ of elevation gain (yikes).  I’ve got some time – October 13.

6)  Not sure yet, but if I can afford it, I have an “F” (as in DNF),  that I’d like to make up by running the Bulldog 50k in August. (This will take some heat training).

7) And though I’m not yet registered, I definitely plan on running the Saddleback Marathon again this year in November. (This is my 2nd favorite race of the year).

8) And finally . . . run 2,000 annual miles.

As far as number of races, 2012 does not have a great number, especially compared to previous years.  But the overall difficulty of my quests is much greater than all my trail running years combined.  I need to get into the best shape of my life for Twin Peaks, which calls for some life adjustments, which I can gladly make, but lack the discipline thus far.  Yes, I’m 47.  But I can get into the best shape of my life because you see, my prior “best shape of my life,” I was in my late twenties and a non-runner.  I would do anything NOT to run.  And though I was a swimmer back then (5 days a week, 5:30 in the morning before work) and did aerobic dance in the evenings, I was also immature (very) and I was a SMOKER.  Therefore, I think I can smoke my prior “best shape in my life.”   I am not questing the impossible.

The week after Nanny Goat, I will begin a rigid training plan to get myself ready.  I hope to drop 20 pounds by the end of summer as well, and get myself on a diet richer in fruits and vegetables. 

Twin Peaks is why I’m running runs like I ran this morning (and this afternoon – I got a late morning start, and didn’t finish until about 2:30 pm).  My plan for today’s run:  up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down.  I ran up steep inclines, ran down technical downhills, then back up again.  I pretty much zig-zagged Aliso / Wood Canyons (though the satellite doesn’t look much like a zig-zag).  I enjoyed myself immensely.  More importantly, I planned my fluids perfectly.  And even more importantly than that, I finished with “gas still in the tank.”  That means I CAN WORK HARDER.  I just need the discipline to push myself more. 

Scenes from my 18 mile zig-zag run through Aliso/Wood Canyons:

Running up Mentally Sensitive (the first incline on the elevation profile below):

Enjoying the ridiculously steep run up:

Top of the World after clothing adjustments and a snack:

Chased this gopher snake down on Park Avenue Nature Trail (sorry little buddy, I just wanted a picture):

Running down Car Wreck Trail:

Running up Mathis:

A Brand New Bridge on Coyote Run Trail:

Running up the steps on Wood Creek:

Just in time to snap a photo of this rattler on the final stretch of this 18 mile run (last mile, on Aliso Creek Trail):

Satellite:

+3,027’ (922.63m) elevation gain / 18.03 miles (29k):

Recovery

Recovery seems a blur now.  I couldn’t sleep much at all the first night after the SJT “50K.”  Every inch of my body ached.  My arms especially ached, so too did my calves.  A simple touch hurt.  I walked down stair steps sideways to avoid aches. 

I slept better the next day.  Monday after dropping the boys off at school, I slept until 1PM.  Every chance I got, I slept.  Every time I laid my head down my mind went through the race.  I found that pleasurable.  And then when I slept I dreamt strange or disturbing dreams, dreams of my life passing before my eyes, dreams of family members who have died, or dreams of running, running, never-ending-running. 

I didn’t even think of actually running those first two days after the race. Though I did some upper body weights, some hip and glute strengthening, a little foam rolling, even a bit of ab work. I kept wondering why my elbow hurt, then I’d remember the fall on that boulder. 

Tuesday, was EMO day – emotional wreck day.  My hubby said, “Recovery!”  Perhaps.  I went to work Tuesday so emotionally wrought it took great strength to put on “the act.”  I managed.  Then I got the call to sub a night class.  I took on that job with my eyes aching from sobbing.  Still, I was able to put on “the act.”  And glasses, they do wonders for sobbing eyes.  When I finally arrived home that night I went straight to bed.  (Does anyone else go through this emotional day after a huge race?) 

Today, Wednesday, was the day.  After dropping our boys off at school, I had the morning all to myself.  I set off for “sixish” “easyish” trail miles at about 10AM wearing my latest race t-shirt.  On my drive there, a bird (yes a bird!) flew into my windshield.  And the creature kind of flopped through the air toward the ground.  I thought I had probably killed it – I was travelling about 40 mph and add that to the bird’s momentum – I don’t know how it could survive.  I felt terrible. 

I continued on driving, determined to get in a trail run.  I wasn’t going to let a poor dead bird deter me.  And I don’t believe in omens.  I felt that if I didn’t get a run in today, I just may slide into a slump. 

This is how it went:  The weather was warm, almost hot as I ran down into Wood Canyon.  My shoes felt too tight.  I stopped twice to loosen the laces, questioning why my shoes would feel so odd.  I also felt sluggish, as if my legs weighed 50 pounds a piece.  I thought to myself, “What the heck am I doing?  Maybe I don’t want to be an endurance / trail runner anymore!”  (Sound familiar?  Does to me.  I go through this after almost every tough race.)

Then I hit the trails to the loud sound of a rattlesnake’s rattler.  I only caught a glimpse of its tail end.  I stood there on the trail with a male and female mountain biker, all of us trying to get a better glimpse, the guy attempting to get it to do some more rattling by beating the brush.  Then we started exchanging rattlesnake stories, and afterward, I set off, my legs still heavy, but my heart lightened by the trail.

I headed up Cholla Trail sweating profusely, not only because of the heat, but because of my recovery.   I always sweat much more than usual on my recovery runs.  I ran to the top of Cholla not thinking, but more feeling that I did want to be a trail runner after all.

A Quick Pose on West Ridge Trail (top of Cholla Trail):

Running Park Avenue Nature Trail for some Extra Elevation:

I made the trip up only slightly slower than usual.  I also spotted another snake in the distance crossing the trail.  Picking up my pace so that I could get a closer look, it slithered into the brush.  I got a close enough look at its tail end to know that it was not a rattlesnake.  Stopping for a minute, I searched the brush so that I could i.d. the critter.   It was a lovely, nice size garter snake.  I’d say at least 4 feet long.

I took the side trails for additional elevation.  Why?  Because I’m crazy.  Also, so that I could see the Pacific Ocean sooner than later.  But I couldn’t see the ocean at all.  Instead, I saw this – a lovely, “pillowy” soft-looking layer of clouds covering all that water:

Top of the World:

I ran back at a faster pace.  And I didn’t think about anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  I did hear the sound of shuffling feet behind me and I picked up my speed some on the uphills so that I could leave that runner behind me.  I wasn’t in the mood to let a runner pass me.  Usually I don’t have a choice.  But today, I could tell from the sound of his feet that the runner was tired, so I kicked it in (I know he was a “he,” because I peeked a glimpse behind me when I turned to run down Cholla). 

I didn’t get much mileage in today.  I didn’t get much training in today.  But I got some trails in today.  And that was lovely. 

I don’t even know how to do a recovery run. How long do you wait before running? How many miles do you run?    Ahh.  Who cares.  I got out today, finally, and ran trails again.  That’s really all that matters for this recovery run..

If Three is Good, Five is Better. Right?

I headed back to Meadows Trail this morning in Aliso/Wood Canyons.  I had my heart content on hill repeats today, but got to thinking how much I’d enjoy running the “big” loop.  Then at the very last minute, as I snapped on my gear, I changed my mind.  If I ran the big loop, I’d end up playing – I’d put in some swing time, maybe climb a tree, pose for too many pictures.  Yes, my main goal is to have fun running trails.  But with next month’s race (the one that I foolishly registered for because I had birthday money burning a hole in my pocket), I felt I needed to train, not play. 

So, I ran 3/4 miles of Aliso Creek Trail and hopped onto the single track to finish off the 1.5 opening miles to Wood Canyon.  I only visited Wood Canyon for a short stint, as a left onto Meadows came quickly.  After another mile of mildly rolling hills, I arrived to my destination – the point where I would begin and end my Meadows hill repeats, where the trail really begins to climb, just a few feet past Mentally Sensitive.

The day was warm, though I wore a light cotton shirt, which never dried.  It provided a nice coolant when the wind blew.  I felt strong on my first and second trips up that steep switch-back.  Mountain bikers made their way up, some riding, others walking.  A few runners also made their way down.  On my third trip up, I noticed one of the runners was doing repeats as well (he ran it twice, that I saw, and appeared much stronger than I).  Hikers also made their way up and down Meadows Trail, in lesser numbers.

The fourth trip running up Meadows was the most difficult of today’s repeats, both mentally and physically.  I could feel by the weight in my pack that my fluids were low.  I conserved on my 4th trip down (which I swear against, conserving fluids that is) so that I’d have some for trip number five up the hill.

My fifth run up Meadows was most difficult physically, yet I found it not as challenging mentally.  Why?  Because I knew that it was my last trip to the top.  I made it to the top with fluids still and couldn’t help myself from guzzling down. Well . . .   

I ran out of fluids with about 3 miles remaining to my truck.  It was a bitch of a run from that point on.  I took a slightly different route back, opting for the pavement for all of Aliso Creek Trail, because it’s slightly shorter.  Without fluids, I could barely run.  I’d pick out a tree or spot of shade and tell myself, “run to that.”  Using this method again and again, I finally arrived to my truck, and without even stretching, grabbed for a nice large bottle of cold Gatorade from the back seat.

Dehydration is not good.  I felt ill for much of today.  Stupid mistake.  I was running repeats and could have easily stashed extra water at the bottom of the hill.  Live and learn.

Top of Meadows #1:

Top of Meadows #2:

Top of Meadows #3:

Top of Meadows #4:

Top of Meadows #5:

And . . . oh yes!  It’s snake season again.  More importantly, rattlesnake season.  Here’s my first sighting of the year, a cute little baby.  Do not fear.  Be alert, turn down the music so that you can hear rattlers, and just remember to give them their space.  Though they can coil up in a split second, their striking distance is probably only half their body length, if even that. : )