Training Begins

Today my training begins.  Ha!  For what, you may wonder.  For Twin Peaks, which isn’t until October 2014.  I need to start early because I have a LONG way to go.  (Twin Peaks is a 50 mile race with an ungodly amount of elevation gain, run in the local mountains.  If you have read my blog before, you may have read a word or two about the race ). 

My goal for the remainder of the winter (about 6 weeks left) is to get back running regularly.  In achieving this goal, I am determined to still get in my adventure runs.  I do not want to let go of the fun this time.  Lastly, I aim to rigorously continue physical therapy (ON A DAILY BASIS – when the foot improves I will not lighten up PT). 

Of course, beginning training today is too late for my upcoming 30k race.  I’m all right with this because all races I run before October will be training for the big one, Twin Peaks. 

Back to my first day of training.  It was not an adventure run.  Today’s run was an out-and-back on Arroyo Trabuco Trail in 85F degree weather (approx. 30C).  Yes, I did just write that it’s winter.  I plugged away at 12.47 miles on this lovely, relatively flat trail, in and out of shade.  I made five stream crossings on the way out, the same five on the way back.  On my last crossing, I fell in and drenched both feet!  I was getting a little cocky and went at rock hopping too quickly. 

The beginning (or end) of Arroyo Trabuco starts at a golf course:

My First Creek Crossing:

Clumps of Mistletoe hanging from the Sycamore trees:

One of my favorite spots:  Arroyo Trabuco / Tijeras Creek Trail junction. 

Los Pinos Peak

I think I prefer the odd goals that I conjure up, over training for long distance endurance races.  A 50k or 50 miler not only tries my body, but more so, they try my soul.  During these runs (and training for them) I must fight the toughest battle – the battle against myself, against those awful voices that nag, nag, nag.  It’s simply terrible.

On the other hand, a couple months ago, I decided to attempt Mount Everett’s elevation gain every month with my running.  That brought me great enjoyment – a goal that can be achieved in tiny steps.  I did it in February, will probably accomplish the task for March. 

I came up with another goal the last time I ran to Santiago Peak (actually, I kind of stole the idea from Jessica Deline, after she saw the photo of my feet on the peak’s surveyor’s mark).  Consequently, this new adventure consists of collecting peaks in my runs (and taking a photo of my feet on the surveyor's stamp as proof.)

Anyway, as I continue my wind down for Old Goat 50, which is precisely one week away, I feel relaxed.  At the same time, I am terrified.  I am terrified of Old Goat.  I fear the battle.  But, I am relaxed over doing my own thing in running now that “training” has ended – as I did on this cool March morning.

During this morning’s single digit run, I sought out Los Pinos Peak for peak #2.  I parked high up the mountain (in Blue Jay) and  headed up the Main Divide well before the San Juan 50k runners would be making their way up the same truck trail.  I did a run/hike combo and found that I made the exact time as when I did a power hike for the whole 1.5 miles. Hiking power continues to amaze me. 

Traversing the Main Divide:

At the Trabuco/Main Divide fork, there’s another prong to the fork, obscured by vegetation and fallen tree trunks.  That fork belongs to the Los Pinos Trail.  Rather than bushwhack, I hopped some turquoise colored posts and made my way to the trailhead.  Then I commenced to run up and down (mainly up) a gorgeous Los Pinos (The Pines) trail. 

My tortuous Mentally Sensitive repeats did me good today.  I found these mainly-up-rolling-hills amazingly easy (as easy as running trails can get anyway).  The views were immense, my home county obscured with thick clouds.  These are the trails that leave the world behind.

Before I knew it I arrived at the peak, or so I figured.  It appeared as if everything else was downhill from there.  Well, I looked around and thought, “Where can the mark be?”  Surveyor’s plaques are never in the middle of the trail.  And at Santiago Peak, it’s at the top of a pile of rocks.  To my left on Los Pinos trail was a natural looking pile of rocks.  I hopped up on them, glanced around.  Nothing.  And then upon closer look, I found a small circular plaque embedded in a boulder.  Without my glasses, I could barely read it.  And what I could read didn’t make sense.  But surveyor remarks don’t make sense.  I hopped around a bit more and found a larger circular plaque and was able, just at the perfect angle, to make out the words, “Los Pinos Peak.”  I had arrived. 

Los Pinos Peak:

Proof:

Peak Goof-Around Time:

On my way back down Los Pinos, I took an off-shoot that I noticed on the way up.  Since my mileage was less than expected I figured I had a couple miles to spare.  But this single-track trail descended at such a great rate that I feared it would eventually dump me out in the canyon below.  And then what a climb out that would be (surely making this run carry into the double digits)!  And so, I turned around and ran back up to the trail and made my way peacefully back to the Main Divide.  Since this portion will be the last remaining miles of Old Goat, I worked on my footing and form.  My shoes felt unbelievably comfortable.  So much so, I wished that I had trained in them. 

I met the San Juan 50k aid station trucks making their way up the Main Divide.  After stretching, I got into my truck, drove down Long Canyon Road and came upon the front runner of the San Juan 50k, Dean Dobberteen (spelling?).  I’ve seen him many times, usually the front runner.  Anyway, he made that Candy Store run that I’ve been training in TWO HOURS!!!!!  This is basically the same course (actually his was shy a mere two miles) that I finally got in less that 6.5 hours.  Wow.  (I won’t let that throw me.  He is among the best of the best.  I just want to finish, or at least try and finish). 

And such is trail running . . .

The BIGGER Loop

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

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

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

View of Santiago Peak from Trabuco:

Running Trabuco:

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

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

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

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

Ending up Trabuco:

Spotting a rare candy rock :

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

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

A Stream Crossing on Holy Jim:

Hiking the last couple miles to Santiago Peak:

That’s not me on the motorcycle:

A view from the summit:

Standing on the Summit:

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

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

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

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

The Slow Hand of the Training Clock

In my wildest dreams I wouldn’t have imagined that I be a runner.  And a long distance runner, running up hills?  Ha!  That’s truly funny.

Let me be a testament to the fact that you can do it.  Whatever it is that you’re trying to do, you can.  The biggest thing it will take to get wherever it is that you want, is patience.  That was something that I DID NOT HAVE.  Patience.  Somehow, and I’m not sure how, running seemed to give me patience.  (Oddly, the biggest compliment I get from my students is “You have so much patience.”) 

I had to work up to 3 mile long runs.  Heck, I had to work up to running a block!  And I was embarrassed, I felt foolish. And since I was first a road runner, in order to keep it up, I had to pretend the rest of the people whizzing by in their cars, on their bikes, etc., weren’t there.  I sobbed when I first ran ten miles.  I felt like vomiting when walked to the Start Line of my first half marathon.  And I was scared to death to run my first marathon.

All along it seemed like training wasn’t really helping.  Obviously it was helping.  I just had to have the patience to allow enough time to pass to see results.  It’s similar to staring at the clock; you rarely see its hands move, but they move!  And they move pretty dang fast. 

Yet I still continue to train.  I find new things to train for – greater distance, steeper hills, rocky terrain, and It it still continues to pay off.  Now I know that I won’t really see the results until I look back (though sometimes I see the results as they happen).  When I start a run now, I feel much stronger.  I used to need a good three miles to warm-up.  Now I don’t experience anxiety when I know a big descent approaches.  I used to feel that terrible anxiety on my drive to the park where I was going to run the hill. 

SO . . . I have another mountain marathon this weekend.  It’s got 6,000 feet of elevation gain.  And it’s on trails that I’ve never run, in mountains that I’ve never run (however, I have done a bit of hiking in them).  I’m not scared because I know that I can do it.  And I also know that anything can happen, good or bad (like a PR or a twisted ankle).  I also know that since this race only has a little over 30 runners, I have a pretty good chance at a DFL.  That doesn’t scare me much either.  The only thing that scares me is coming in thirty minutes to an hour after the last runner.  If I’m going to take that DFL honor, I want to come in minutes after the runner in front of me.  I’m also a little scared about not making the half cut-off.  But those things too, I can deal with. 

I know I ‘m supposed to taper before a big race.  But I hate The Taper.  In my defense, all my runs this week have been less than ten miles.

Scenes from today’s run:

I really enjoy looking up beneath trees:

Crazy for Cholla, a short descent up to the ridge trail (West Ridge):

Running West Ridge, up ahead, a little hill that I call “Good Girls Don’t” – a couple of years ago, I couldn’t run it.  Now I can (of course not very quickly ):

A new (for me) little single-track I found along West Ridge:

Where I crashed my head into this branch:

And came out and found this (not me, but these rocks overlooking the Pacific):

Top of the World once again:

Running down Rockit:

Rockit:

Running in for the final stretch along Coyote run toward Wood Canyon:

Miles run this morning:  8.08 (13 km)