Traction!

I took the ace bandage off my wrist this morning for a short run up to Top of the World and back.  The skies were blue, the weather cool and I had some traction!  Yes, when my feet hit the ground, they didn’t slide.  Beautiful.  No ice, no snow, no slush.  Today’s run was a quiet little adventure.  Merely a peaceful run through the wilderness.  My calves were tight at first.  My knees ached a bit at first also.  They ached from impact injury not from repetitive-use (my left knee is scabbed up a bit).  Anyway, I’d much rather have the impact injury over repetitive-use. 

I saw plenty of hikers and runners on the trails today.  An influx of people into the sport, or perhaps signs of New Years Resolutions.   It’s all good. 

Running down into Wood Canyon:

West RidgeTrail:

Top of the World:

Today’s out-and-back:  Wood Cyn, Cholla, West Ridge to Top of the World (& back )

Why I Cross-Train

Okay, I know that I’ve mentioned this probably a dozen times before, but I’ve never considered myself an athlete.  I feel this way even though I’m a trail runner and have played various sports.  I think I’ve never considered myself an athlete partly due to the fact that I come a family of superb athletes – I mean superstars in their sports (not professional sports, but sports they’ve chosen in their lives: baseball, softball, hockey, figure skating, wrestling, football, to name a few). Though I experienced some triumphs, I pale in comparison ability-wise to siblings, cousins, uncles, my father.  I also don’t think that I “look” like an athlete – however, I now know that athletes come in all “looks” and that is WONDERFUL.

Slowly (very slowly – pun intended – those who’ve run with me get the pun :), I’ve been coming around to admit that I’m an athlete.  I just can no longer deny it.  I mean, I keep showing up at these races, and people are starting to recognize me!  Not only that, I cross-train for goodness sake.

Cross-train.

Me? 

I didn’t begin cross-training on purpose.  I cross-train because I have to.  I mean REALLY HAVE TO.  I run 3 to 4 times a week, and I’m at the gym the remaining days (with one rest day).  I swim.  I weight train.  I spend hours on the elliptical crossramp.  I even ride the life cycle (what we used to call the stationary bike – they don’t even call it a “life cycle” anymore, that’s the 80’s brand.)

When I began running, I thought that running would make me strong enough to run.  Even before I hit the trails I learned that running didn’t make me strong enough to run.  Right about the time I could run ten miles, my body started saying “NO WAY, you are not STRONG ENOUGH!”  And it started tweaking in different places.  I remember the first time.  I don’t recall the exact injury.  But I remember sobbing as I called my husband to pick me up at the marina, because the pain was too great to run. 

Still, I endured the injuries, took time off, then moped around the house because I couldn’t run.  And then the big awakening happened in my life.  I began my passion at the ripe age of 43.  Trail Running.  And injuries abounded. 

With each injury I learned a new body part that needed strengthening, strengthening that could not be done by running.  But I could strengthen different body parts in the pool, or on the elliptical or with weights.  And that is why I cross-train – so I can be strong enough to run the trails.  And now, I love it, cross-training that is.  And as an added bonus, I fall less on the trail because I am strong enough to pull my self up as I’m going down.  I don’t fly off the cliff when I run off the trail, because I am strong enough to turn my body around mid-air, and crash into the hillside instead (see San Juan 50k).  I can jump from boulder to boulder.  And more importantly, I know when I should jump, because I now know my body better – I have been there, I have seen the light, I can feel every muscle and can judge whether or not I should make that jump.

Cross-training is a big plus in my life.

Therefore, I suppose I am an athlete.

Snake Run

Saturday, I needed to take care of a residual from my face plant a month ago (Big Baz WTRS 15k).  Whereas my eye actually improved a great deal initially, this week it took a turn for the worse.  It was red and painful.

Turns out, something went into my eye during the fall.  Though whatever it was is no longer there, my eye didn’t react well to the intrusion.  A cyst formed in response, which in turn began irritating blood vessels.  “Thank God you didn’t damage the cornea,” the optometrist said.  And then she went on to say, in not so many words, that women “our age” shouldn’t be taking falls like that.  In my defense, I told her, “Well, I normally don’t fall like that; I was trying to avoid the cliff, so I fell awkwardly.  Usually, I fall much better.”

I’m sure that convinced her that women “our age” are okay to take falls like that.  She sent me off with an eye-drop prescription.  And already, my eye has greatly improved.

Saturday night, I went to bed at 9PM.  I could still hear the boys roughing up the place and didn’t fall asleep until after 9:30.  Up at 5:20 AM, I sat on the couch fooling around on the computer, avoiding getting dressed.  Not that I didn’t want to run.  I greatly looked forward to my long run this morning.  I was just too dang cold (we are so spoiled weather-wise in California – I’m guessing it was 40/45 F).  6:30 AM I was finally out the door and in the car to drive to my local trails (why, Aliso/Wood Canyons, of course).  My plan today was to run every trail up to the ridge and every trail down.  In other words, I ran up the first one (Cholla), ran along the ridge to the next trail into the canyon (Lynx), ran down it, ran up the next one, etc., etc.  The last trip down was Meadows (the beast!) which after running I turned around and ran up it to make the trip back.  Technically, I suppose this 19+ mile run was an out-and-back, but not exactly.  I made a few alterations on the back trip.  It was more like a snake route, back and forth, back and forth.

“Before” (I had planned to take an “After” shot, but forgot), standing in Canyon Vistas Park, layered and ready to take off.

The weather remained cool my entire run, though I stripped those layers pretty quickly.  Running through spider webs on the single tracks, I found myself smiling instead letting out yelps like I used to.  My thought was, “Ahhh, I’m the first one on this trail this morning.”  I would wave my hand in front of my face when running through spider-like areas.  Once a web broke on my upper lip.  I didn’t utter a peep.

Later, I found myself semi-frequently dodging mountain bikers.  Guided groups of hikers also roamed the hillsides.  I ran past one such group struggling up Mathis.  They smiled and shook their heads in amusement as I snaked my way up the mini-beast.  I have avoided Mathis for a while now, because it is so painful.  Surprisingly and happily, I found Mathis Trail quite comfortable to run.  Not at all saying that it was easy.  Just that all those runs up Meadows Trail have miniaturized other trails like Mathis.

Hours later, after running back up Meadows Trail on my way to West Ridge, I met that same hiking group while I ran across Top of the World.  One of the guys exclaimed, “It’s you again, I can’t believe you’re still running!” 

“You’re still hiking!”  It was like meeting old friends.  Turns out I set off this morning at the same time as this hiking group (7 AM).

Running down Lynx Trail in the cool morning shade, spring flowers already dot the hillsides.  (Running back up this at about mile 18 was a bear – no shade!!)

Spring flowers Along Rock It Trail

Dodging Mountain Bikers on Rock It

Car Wreck Trail

Finishing Up Car Wreck

Posing with 2-Headed Dragon I Found on the Trail

Top of the World View of the Pacific Ocean, Catalina Island & Laguna Beach

A Little Detour on Park Avenue Trail (Trip Back)

19.29 Miles: +4,031/-4033 SUPER FUN SNAKE RUN!

Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run 2011

I really don’t know where to begin.   I lied during the race, because I said I didn’t care.  It mattered before, because I worked my ASS off.  And it matters now, because I have regrets.  I had dreams.  I had aspirations.  I trained hard (but for only a short while).  I wanted to CONQUER Calico.  Did I?  Well, depends on how you define it. (Before your are an athlete you think it’s defined, afterward you have no ideal, because you can’t really know what defines an athlete : ) {If you’ve been reading along – sorry, soooooo sorrry}

My husband said I could throw him underneath the bus in writing this blog.  In fact, he urged me to “throw him beneath the bus.”.  I didn’t want to do that.  But heck, maybe I should.  Because I suppose the “whole” story is the “best” story.  Isn’t it?

Truth is, the 2 1/2 hour trip up to Calico, my husband and I argued a great deal about stupid sh*t.  I suppose it started earlier.  But it really erupted about halfway up the mountain.  And I cried and cried and cried.  My eyelids were practically swollen shut.  I really thought that I tried to calm the situation, because I know how important my mind is in running a long distance trail run.  A calm mind makes all the difference!  (doesn’t it?  doesn’t it???)

I think only runners, or maybe athletes in general  (though I don’t really consider myself an athlete) understand this:  A clear mind makes all the difference.  Mind over matter.  Believe me.  I’m 45 years old.  If anyone can tell you.  I can. 

I had been sick for days (I believe four days) and by the time I reached the summit up to Calico Ghost Town, with all my crying and such, I just said F**** it.  I’m not running.  I can’t do it with this mindset.

And then we (all five of us) drove on in silence . . .  And my hubby said “YOU HAVE TO RUN. . . YOU JUST HAVE TO RUN.”  And being the evil wife, I said, “NO.  I CAN’T.”

So, there’s me throwing my husband beneath the bus.  I can’t really do more than that (though I despised him at the time, because I really, really wanted to spend my passenger driving time meditating), but despite arguments and all, even wanting to THROW HIM UNDERNEATH THE BUS!!!, I love him, and he is really supportive for my silly hobby.  Trail running that is, I can’t say he is to blame.

I continued to cough and blow my nose that evening.  And since I decided F****, THIS,  I even had two glasses of wine at Peggy Sue’s Fifty’s Diner.  My husband said, “Are you sure you should drink that?”  I said with draggy eyes, “I really don’t care.”  (Despite my feelings for him at that point, he was supportive enough to drive me to heck and back and wait for hours and hours for me to cross the finish line : )

Downtown Calico Ghost Town (Bib Pick Up)

I bedded early, leaving hubby to deal with three misbehaving boys.  Why misbehaving?  Heck, I don’t know.  Maybe because they’re boys and I don’t know what the heck I’m doing in life as far as training youngun’s,  About 8:30 pm I remember sleeping and continually waking because mainly boy NUMBER THREE (pictured above) was up to mischief.

I believe I woke every hour.  And I reached for my cell phone, also my alarm clock, to see the time.  I coughed, I hacked.  In denial, I said to myself “allergies.”  I have them sometimes.  I dreamt  also OVER AND OVER that I was running.  But I really couldn’t run.  I kept falling.  And when I could stand, I could hardly lift a foot.  It was like my feet weighed a hundred pounds.  And so I went onward heavy laden, suffering, in agony.  In my dreams that is.  I also rode plenty of falling elevators. Over and over again, though somehow pleasantly.  (Riding falling elevators pleasantly is fairly rare.)

6:00 AM my husband took the 2 youngest of our sons, shoved them in the truck and drove me 3 miles to the start line.  Before leaving, I pleaded, “Wait, I’m freezing,” and he waited in the truck with our younguns, as I ran back to our room for some long sleeves. (Which I of course promptly dropped at the first aid station).

I arrived a good hour early to Calico Ghost Town (& I was happy for my husband for going thru that crap – really it is crap to run an early race alone).   And I don’t know if most of you know, but Calico is supposed to be haunted.  Funny.  I don’t really believe in “ghosts” as we traditionally describe them (though I believe in in them “untraditionally.”)  Before I sat down in the rocking chair on the saloon  slab before the race even started, the CHAIR ROCKED by itself.  I’m serious.  It rocked in unison as I sat down to film my  chat before the event.

So how many pages should I make this blog?

I could go on for ten, maybe twenty . . .

I started this run not caring.  I chucked all goals the night before in our arguments.  I just wanted to enjoy running in the desert.  Most people don’t realize that the high desert is gorgeous .  That’s what I love about trail running – the enjoyment, the beauty.

Funny thing, I saw familiar faces.   I saw Larry from OCTR. I recognized someone from Bulldog 50k, and also a very nice lady from another race that took Bulldog in the opposite direction when I ran it last spring. 

I chatted and learned a lot about Suzanne those first eleven miles (she was such a delight!!).  And I really have to say, it was pleasurable. I didn’t care about pace.  I cared about people and their stories; I cared about the beautiful scenery.  I learned a lot about Suzanne, and other tales from other runners on  those first eleven miles.  I saw Badwater Ben, who has run Bad Water’s 135 miles more than once.    He took pics at the beginning of our delightful, yet  gloriously colorful  morning run, and then again at the end when I wanted to collapse.  (about 4 miles left, I had a knee injury – nothing drastic, just that dang old knee slid out to the left without that youngun’ thing there to help.)  

I never tired drastically.  I should have on this 30k which was “relatively short”.  Actually it was a long 30k, not 18.66 miles, but 19.23 miles.  Heck.  I want to write something more profound about this race.  Well, here it is:   what I love about trails.  We’re all accepted.  It doesn't matter.  That’s all I ever wanted.  To do something fun, that didn’t matter.  19 miles.  I can do that.  And I should be able to do it much faster.  Really.  I DIDN’T  CARE at the race start (but I cared toward the end).  All that training, and I couldn’t come in faster!

Though I cried after crossing the finish line because I crossed with the worst time ever with me ( & my oldest son held me tight whispering that most people couldn’t even make that run).  He  held me for some time because he knows the pressure of first chair and honor orchestra, something  I could never understand.  I doubt that he “ really understands” though I hope that he does.  It’s also the camaraderie, not the competition that makes these races, these competitions the lesson.  FRIENDS.  Though we may pass them by in life . . .  there’s those we meet that makes a smile upon your face, like I did, a lady named Suzanne . You did a great job Suzanne!

Suzanne & me at the 30/50k split

The Home  Stretch / 30K Beautiful Run

All I can think about here is ICE for the knee

Photo Compliments of “Bad Water Ben.”

Old School House

 

Okay.  I’m tired.  Mainly my quads.  19.23 miles for this race logged.  Afterwards 2 park employees asked my race time, and I responded gloomy, “about five hours.”

“That’s six hours less than it would have taken me,” one of them said.  The other guy chuckled and added “That’s six days less than it would have taken me.

Calico Ghost Town 30k Elevation Profile

The movie, because if you visited before, I’m silly : )

Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run

Two Parks Before The Rain

I posted a group run for Crystal Cove this morning, then learned I wouldn’t have access to a car.  So I woke a little earlier.  And I walked down to the bus stop and waited for a bus in the dark.  I don’t mind taking the bus.  In fact, I kind of like it.  I get to look at all the shops and landscaping along the way without the fear of slamming into the car ahead of me (not that there’s many cars on the road at this hour anyway.)

First the good news:  1) The bus was on time and even arrived at my destination 5 minutes early, 2) The weather was perfectly cool, 3) and five perfectly cool people showed up to join me on this run (Hank, Sheila, Vicky, Rick and Kelly) and then 4) I had absolutely no piriformis muscle pains or any pains whatsoever.

The bad news:  No bad news! (Oh, except maybe that I was a little worn out for today’s run)

Rick, Kelly, Sheila, Vicky, Hank on “No Name Trail” (that’s really the name : )

Rick, Kelly, Me, Sheila, Hank

 

We ran up, up, up on a trail (a fire road) called “No Name,” that I think should be renamed “No Relief.”  From there we hit a single track, eventually making our way to the top.  Well, almost the top.  We cut it a little short to run 2 other single tracks just beneath the ridge.  Then we ran Moro Ridge back and with my directions ran us directly into a dead end.  Backtracking some, we picked up Moro Ridge again, eventually making a 9 1/2 mile loop back at the ranger station.

Then Sheila, Hank and I took off for another run up to the top – the top-top this time, Bommer Ridge.  I had this notion to try and connect my park (Aliso Wood Cyns) with Crystal Cove.  So after running through a lovely El Moro Canyon to the top, Sheila and Hank veered to the left to complete their loop.  I took off to the right out of Crystal Cove Park into Laguna Wilderness Park with no idea how many miles lay ahead before I reached Aliso/Wood.

I was feeling pretty dang tired.  But after some calories and a bit more hiking, I got my second pair of legs and was off running again.  Bommer Ridge went on much longer than I expected.  And then Aliso/Wood Cyns came into sight.  I was actually running parallel to West Ridge (one of my regular trails) as I ran along Bommer.  Still, it was a long way off, and I ran out of fluids before I even reached Big Bend, the long steep down hill that would bring me into Laguna Canyon. 

Making it happily and without injury to Laguna Wilderness’s parking lot, I looked up at the nasty climb that would take me into Aliso/Wood and knew I wouldn’t be able to make it without fluids.  So I called my husband for a ride home and spent a good long while stretching these old muscles after running nearly 18 miles through two different parks.  But not before calling hubby back really fast with a special request:  “Please, please, bring water!”

Tonight the rain pours down.  I’m sitting here practically giddy that I got in such a good run before they closed the trails : ))

View of Saddleback from Fence Line Trail

Waiting for Lauren : )

 

Heading down Moro Ridge

 

El Moro Canyon’s Beauty

 

A Dead Baby Rattler on Elevator Trail : (

A view of El Moro Canyon from Bommer Ridge

Running Big Ben (highest peak in background is Top of the World at Aliso/Wood Canyons Park)

Laguna Ridge Trail

Portrait of Big Bend Trail in parking lot

 

 Elevation Profile: +3,059’ 

Miles logged:  17.65 (Route:  No Dogs Trail to No Name Ridge, right on Ticketron, up Deer Canyon, Fence Line Trail, Missing Link Trail, Moro Ridge to B.F.I. back to ranger station, El Moro Canyon, Elevator Trail to Bommer Ridge, Big Bend Trail down to Laguna Ridge and parking lot, Entrance #7 to Laguna Coast Wilderness Park)