Volunteering at The Harding Hustle

Well, it turns out that I can indeed get my butt out of bed if I commit to someone else. Can’t do it for myself, but if I tell someone else that I’ll be there, then I will. Case in point – last Saturday (7/22), I was up at 4:30 am and on the road by 5:00 am on my way for a day in the mountains, volunteering for the Harding Hustle. I’ve run this race once (the 50k portion) and have worked it several times. This year, I stepped up on a last minute call looking for volunteers. I had mixed feelings – volunteering for a race is a bitch, the day is long, and bugs are plenty. But being in the mountains, well, that is wonderful. Not only that, I get to see people I haven’t seen in a long time, and I always get to meet great new people. Generally, I like people.

The Harding Hustle begins and ends at Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary in Modjeska Canyon, offering 3 options: 15k, 30k and 50k. It is a tough race, not terribly technical, but the climb is enormous. And the route is mostly exposed. Drops inevitably happen due to heat exhaustion. It gets HOT. I worked the Modjeska Peak aid station on Saturday, the spot where runners had to turn off of The Main Divide and run up Modjeska Peak and back. Then on their return from Santiago Peak, they had to run back up Modjeska Peak and back. It’s a tough spot for the runners. It wasn’t a bad spot for us (Pete, Sonya and I). We had a gorgeous view, and an occasional breeze. And I got to hike up to Modjeska Peak to place markers on the ground for runners to mark their bibs (a mile up, and a mile back).

We only had one drop at our station. But we picked up some more drops on the way down. We drove up on some pretty miserable runners. I almost cried witnessing one runner admit defeat. His shoulders slumped forward, his feet barely shuffling, it brought back a familiar feeling, a deep, dark exhausted feeling.

Anyway, we didn’t have enough space our truck to pick up the drops, so volunteers got out and ran back (with only a couple miles left). Can you imagine, being so utterly exhausted that you drop with only two miles left in a 32 mile race? I haven’t quite done that, but I can certainly imagine it, and I’ve seen friends do it. When you’re done, your done! Those poor miserable souls – they were wasted.

Anyway, I’m glad I went out, and am always glad to be in the mountains, especially helping runners on their crazy feats. But yikes! The day was too long. I pulled up in my driveway a little after 4pm.

Look at that cloud cover over the Inland Empire!

View from Modjeska Peak, looking out over Orange County

Standing on Modjeska Peak

View of Santiago Peak from Modjeska Peak

Modjeska Peak Aid Station (located at the base of M. Peak)

Traffic jam on The Main Divide when one truck on a convoy coming up gets a flat

What a drag it is getting old . . .

I’ve come to a point in my life that I cannot sleep. I can drag myself to bed dead-dog tired, and then lay there, seemingly all night. Sure, I get some sleep here and there. But I wake constantly, and when I do, it is very difficult to fall back to sleep. Usually, at that point, I stumble out to the living room, turn the fan on full blast and eventually fall back asleep on the couch.  And then, when morning comes, I really cannot drag myself out of bed. If there were something that I HAD to do, like go to work, or get the boys off to school, I could probably get out of bed. But right now, the boys are out of school, and I don’t need to leave for work until around 5:30 pm.

I’m in a slump. Actually, I’ve been in a slump for some years now, off and on, but it seems to be coming to a peak right now. On a good day, I get out of bed at 8 or 9 am, but it’s usually more like 10:00/10:30 am. There was a time (for many, many years) that 5:30/6:00 am was standard.

Maybe it’s hormones. I am after all, 52, wait . . . 53? Let’s see, 2017 minus 1965 . . . 52. That’s really not that old, but I feel old, and I feel like I have been rapidly aging. I am out of shape, and getting back into shape has been like starting all over again. And that sucks. It really sucks.

Fortunately, two of my sons are gym rats, and that gets me into the gym here and there. And I’ve actually started lifting weights again. I just feel so weak, I figured it’s about time I start strength training. I do this about 3 times a week (on a good week). I also set out to begin running, starting with short road runs. My chosen route has been the harbor island, which many people don’t even realize is an island. One of my sons even exclaimed, “The island! What island?” And he’s lived here his entire life.

I usually drive down to the harbor mid afternoon and run basically a 5k, which includes taking the sidewalks beneath the bridge and over the bridge to include the entire island. And that has been utterly miserable. Seriously, there is nothing worse than running when you’re out of shape, and in the summer heat no less!  My first run out, I actually fell, which, wait, there is something worse than running when you’re out of shape -- and that is running and falling on the cement when you’re out of shape. Attempting to cross the street (actually jaywalking), I tripped on piece of uplifted sidewalk and hit the concrete with a thud. I felt humiliated sprawled out there down on the sidewalk, listening to the cars whiz by. One guy pulled over and asked if I was okay, and I was hardly even grateful for that. I skinned both knees, one worse than the other.

I don’t carry anything on these harbor runs, no water, no camera, no phone – just my garmin strapped around my wrist and an ipod clipped to my shirt. I got back out there pretty quickly for another 5k at the harbor. I didn’t fall that time, but the next day, I came down with a sore throat and a cold that wiped me out (see – rapidly aging, since when does a cold take me out?)

It took quite some time before I got out for my next harbor 5k.

Harbor runs since my last blog post:

June 29: miles = 3.15

July 1: miles = 3.20

July 13: miles = 3.08

July 20: miles = 3.18

While those short runs have proved miserable, I was able to get some miles in at Aliso/Wood Wilderness on July 14. I ran very little of the route, mostly hiked, but it was still a good workout. And just stepping out onto the dirt, I felt a wave of anxiety rush away from me.

I let my son use my truck, so he dropped me off at Moulton Meadows in Laguna Beach. It thrilled my heart when the first thing I noticed was a rattler crossing my path. I ran up to it to make sure I could snap a picture before it slithered away into the brush. From there I hiked down Meadows into Wood Canyon which I took to Mathis Trail. Wow, what a climb that was. Yikes. I did it using the one-foot-in-front-of-the-other method. And it was a bitch, but at least it was beautiful.

 

Climbing Mathis behind mountain biker up front:

Climbing Mathis with mountain biker behind:

I did 6.23 miles ending at Top of the World. From there I caught a canyon trolley down to the coast, hopped on another trolley in Laguna Beach where I caught the Dana Point Trolley back near home.

That’s all I really have to report. I really, really hate feeling weak and starting over to get back into shape. It’s the pits!

What Goes Down, Must Come Up

Friday, June 23 -- I did it again. I started on the downhill, which of course meant I ended on an uphill. A long uphill. Because what goes down must come up right? And I did it because I wanted something a little different at Aliso/Woods Wilderness, and I wanted just a quick drive up the coast.

I parked my truck in Laguna Beach, at a little unknown park called Moulton Meadows. The weather was actually cold, and I thought for a second that I should have brought long sleeves. I quickly scoffed at the thought. Who was I kidding?Southern California’s in the middle of a heat wave, even if we’re enjoying mid sixties temperatures on the coast.

Sure enough, the closer I got into the canyon, the warmer it grew. And it was no simple task getting into the canyon down Mentally Sensitive Trail. The trail is so rugged and steep, that I even had to butt scoot a small section. I made the entire thing without falling!

Anyway, the 9.11 miles were mostly quite warm. Thankfully, an ocean breeze did manage to come up over the coastal hills. And then just like that, back at the Top of the World, it was cold again, eerie cold with white heavy mist full clouds rolling in. I felt like I was in a scene from a horror movie.

 

Maple Springs to Four Corners

Tuesday was my day off – the entire day off. So, in my infinite wisdom, I headed off to Silverado Canyon around 12:30 pm, driving that single lane road past Maple Springs Trailhead, to arrive at the dirt truck trail called Maple Springs Road at about 1:30. I knew right away that the heat would give me trouble, but I took that step anyway.

It was serene and beautiful and all – pine forests in the distance, short bursts of Maple Tree shade. Little yellow butterflies and also large Monarchs flittered between flowers that still dot the mountains. And the trail was relatively empty – I saw only two mountain bikers, and also one guy on a motorcycle, and another group of guys in a jeep.

Overall, the trek was hot, as in really, really warm. And it was also steep. But you know how I love to suffer. And I also love this part of our mountains so much, that I was able to grin and bear it (not too much grinning though – until I reached the top).

My top on Tuesday was a location dubbed “Four Corners.” It’s where the Main Divide goes off in two different directions, and where Harding Truck Trail and Maple Springs Road meet.  From this point, I had views of Riverside and San Bernardino Counties, a bit of LA County, and Orange County as well. In the distance, loomed the much larger mountain range, the San Gabriel Mountains, whose shadows I grew up in.

I ran most of the way back, being that it was down hill. Tripped only once, and I was so grateful that I remained upright. I am still really freaked out about falling. But if I had to fall anywhere, it would definitely be on Maple Springs Road.

8.77 miles, 1,672’ elevation gained.