Dream Job

Actually, I want to be a novelist when I grow up.  But second choice definitely would be a P.E. coach.  Today I got a call to substitute 7th grade P.E. (Physical Education).  I remember 7th grade.  Do you?  I hated it.  Much better to teach it than to be it, that’s for sure!

First time ever I got to wear shorts to a job.  First time ever I got paid to run!  First time also, that I got to talk to the regular teacher on the phone before my sub assignment.  She was a lovely lady who obviously had genuine concern and care for her students.  She told me that they had to RUN their laps. 

Oh the joy!  Fun, fun, fun!!!

The agenda was: run 1 lap around the track, do exercises and stretches on the black top, run another lap around the track, then play basketball or “free-play.”

The students were surprised when I took off running with them.  I thought, “What a perfect opportunity to get a little running in today!”  But how to get the kids to run?  There’s some kids who are runners and there’s no problem getting them to run.  But most of the kids, they just don’t want to run (like me when I was their age), and so unless they have a reason to, they don’t run. 

This is how I got them to run:  I hollered, “Don’t let me pass you!”  And so I took off at my regular long distance pace, moseying around the track.  There were students who DO NOT run in general, pretty much ever.  I gave them words of encouragement, told them to just push themselves a little bit harder every time they ran, and eventually they’d be able to run the whole lap.  The other students, the majority, enjoyed my game of “Don’t Let The Old Lady Pass You.”   

One boy said, “I’m going to walk and she’s not going to pass me!!”  He kept looking behind his shoulder, smiling wide, walking faster and faster, pumping his arms like an engine.  That’s when I kicked it in just for kicks.  As I passed him, he yelled, “Oh shit!”  That’s when he started running.  Of course he passed me.  The best thing was, he was smiling.  And I overheard another 7th grader say, “That was so much fun!”

I used this tactic pretty much every time, running my long distance speed until the last tenth of the track.  Then I’d run my 5k pace.  The kids would literally scream and pick up their pace so that I wouldn’t pass. 

During my last period of the day, 2 boys “too cool to run,” said to me when I passed as they walked the track, “What happens if you pass us?” 

I said, “Then you got passed by a fifty-year-old lady.”  I laughed out loud as these two boys took off running at the thought by being passed by a “50-year-old lady.”  (I’m not fifty by the way, it just sounded better than 47). 

Later these same too-cool-to-run boys thought they’d have some fun with me and ran backwards just ahead of me, smirking and giggling (yes, middle school boys giggle.)  I smiled, then at the last moment, I kicked it in and increased my speed.  These guys practically tripped over their feet as they hastily turned around and headed toward the finish.  There was no way they were going to be passed by a 50-year-old lady.  So funny.  So fun.  I guess I’m just a kid too.  (Just don’t look like one).

Spike Run

It was time today for yet another little work-out this morning (not a fun-run, an ACTUAL workout.)  I now call it my spike run – what I used to call hill repeats.  By the looks of today’s elevation profile below, it’s clearly a spike run:

The weather was cold.  It was misty and wet.  The workout was difficult.  But not excruciating.  Except for a few mountain bikers riding down, and one runner going up, I was alone for most of today’s run.  I felt especially alone at the top, surrounded by thick white mist.  The ocean was nowhere to be seen at the top of Meadows.  For some reason it was a bit sad.  No.  Not really sad, more like somber. 

The fun in today’s run was in its difficulty.  But I don’t necessarily enjoy repeats.  I just enjoy being able to run them.  In my twenties I wouldn’t have been able to hike up this hill once without stopping and resting, maybe even sitting.

 

About a half mile into Meadows, heading for the ascent (the top is obscured by clouds):

The climb threatening, but in not in full-force:

The sweat begins:

Nearing the top:

All done!  Heading back to the truck:

From above:

How I Roll

I am now spontaneous.  I used to call myself “The Planner.”  I planned everything.  I knew exactly which days I would run, how many miles and which trails.  I planned on which day I would get gasoline, what time I would do the dishes, precisely how many loads of laundry I needed to do daily, how many pages I would allow myself to read a day, how many pages I would write a day.  You could not throw ANYTHING on me “spur of the moment.”  I was not very spontaneous.  I don’t think that I learned my neurotic “planning abilities” from my parents.  Mom and Dad seem quite spontaneous to me.  I’ll get a phone call, “What are you doing today?  We’re on our way over. ”(They live an hour away!  : )  Perhaps they were more planners when they raised me.  Or perhaps that’s just the way my brain was “wired:” systematic, organized, compartmental.  Or perhaps, it’s an overcompensation for all the clutter up there (in my brain that is : )

Well!  Now that I’ve taken on substitute teaching during my days (which are open, because I work evenings), I don’t know whether I’m going to work until 6:30 in the morning.  So, I don’t plan my runs anymore.  I pretty much just run when I don’t work. 

By 7:30, I knew I wasn’t working this morning, which meant that after getting the boys off to school, I had until 2:30 when I needed to leave for my regular job.  After dropping off boy number three, I spontaneously drove back home to chat with my husband before taking off.  I changed my mind THREE times where I would run (that’s rather spontaneous don’t you think?).  I first decided to drive to Trabuco Canyon for a mountain run.  Then figuring the round trip would total about an hour and a half driving,  I decided on closer trails for a longer run time.  So with the coastal hills of Newport Beach/Irvine in mind, I packed my bags and got into the truck.  On the road I figured my round trip driving would total about a hour.  I still wanted more running time.  While driving, I changed my mind (more spontaneity) and drove off to Aliso/Wood Canyons, with only a half hour round trip driving time.  Now, I know you’re probably thinking, “That’s not spontaneous – you always run there.”  But it was indeed spontaneous.  Running today period was spontaneous, and how I decided upon these trails was as well.  I simply decided to run, and run, and run, and run until I didn’t feel like it anymore or until I ran out of time, with no particular path in mind, with my only goal to just have fun.  Fun.  Yup, that’s it.  Fun on the trails.  That’s the how I roll.

Who would guess that I’d visit my old friend Meadows Trail?

But I didn’t run all of Meadows.  I decided to kick up my heels on Mentally Sensitive.  Looked like it was lonely and hadn’t been run in a long time.  Look at Mentally Sensitive’s entry:

More fun running up Mentally Sensitive:

And still more fun going up Mentally Sensitive.  I’m inadvertently sliding down this railing as the camera clicks:

The prize at the top of Mentally Sensitive:

And then I turned left, spontaneously, and ran the trails to the city park down the way:

Where I had myself some swing time:

I could have swung for an hour.  But more so, I wanted to run.  So, I ran to Top of the World, because I LOVE TOP OF THE WORLD:

Then I ran up one hill, then down another hill, then up a hill, down another, again and again until I ended up in Wood Canyon which I ran all the way to the end (or rather beginning):

13.54 stress-free, thoughtless miles run today (21.8 km):

I Beg Your Pardon Ranger ‘Mam/Sir

As I ran downhill on the service road leading to Wood Canyon, I suddenly remembered that I didn’t check the website to see if the park was open.  “But it’s got to be open!  It rained Sunday.  Today’s Tuesday.”

Sure enough, I came upon with the “Trails Closed” sign at the park’s entrance.  “Well, I beg your pardon Rangers, but I really, really wanted to run trails on this lovely crisp, clear morning.  And I really don’t know what to say about your sign, but I’m going in.”

I’m sorry to say that I thought about pushing the sign down into the mud.  That way I could say that I didn’t see a sign.  But it was was actually chained and locked to the metal fence post. 

My idea was this:  run down into the canyon, then quickly to Cholla Trail.  There’s no way that I’m going to see a ranger on Cholla Trail.  Not a chance.  It’s a single track – a truck won’t fit, and it’s a little steep (no offense).  At the top of Cholla, I thought I’d be safe, because a utility friend once told me that West Ridge was not actually part of the park – it’s a utility road.

So, I turned off my headphones and ran on into Wood Canyon, listening for trucks.  Nothing.  Then I headed up Cholla Trail.  My calves felt painfully tight.  But they loosened after halfway up when I stopped to stretch them.  It hurt sooo good.

I met a hiker and his dog as they made their way down Cholla.  At the top of Cholla, the gates into West Ridge were closed with the same sign posted that I met coming into the park.

But as I ran along this trail that was really not that muddy at all, I found I wasn’t the only person disobeying the closed signs:

I needed this run.  It was fun.  It was relaxing.  It was beautiful with majestic clouds hovering above.  It was vindicating. And after a while, I saw dozens of other people travelling along the ridge – hiking, running and mountain biking. 

A few pictures from Top of the World (Laguna Beach):

Heading Back:

6.5 miles ran this morning.