A Cool Summer Run in Aliso Wood Canyons

I worried about today’s run because of my difficult time Saturday. Plus, I’ve got this toe injury/problem, whatever it is, that makes me wonder if I’m even gonna make the Bulldog 25k in two weeks. For some reason sleep has been tough (perhaps the writing deadlines I have put on myself for a September conference). And alas, the dreams-before-a-tough-race have begun, as I woke from a humorous one that I frantically searched the house for a pair of shoes. I wasn’t laughing in the dream, but looking back, I’m amused that I could not find one single matching pair of shoes for a softball game I was already late for. I barked out orders for everyone to LOOK, while I scrambled about on the floor, searching under beds, etc., and threw every single running shoe I found into a mound. And in the end, there was this giant mound in the middle of the room – not one shoe a match!

I woke this morning 5 AM, my toe barely aching, though I treaded lightly, afraid to face the real deal. Free to walk firmly with laced shoes (because for some reason, the toe hardly aches in shoes), I drank my two cups of coffee, surfed the net, then headed out the door about 6:10. (No breakfast, mind you, but some calories in the car for later and plenty of water for the run).

With one no-show, it was just Tom and me running Aliso / Wood Canyons this morning. The skies were gray and misty and lovely. The air was very still, and oh so cool. Perfect running weather. Wearing an old pair of trail shoes, I experienced no ache in my right toes whatsoever. And I was careful not run on my toes over those steep climbs. (Toe running up steep hills is suspect for my toe problems – but there’s plenty of things suspect, while I wait here guessing what the problem is, trying to wish it away.)

Entering Aliso Canyon on a Misty Morning

Nearing the End of Wood Canyon Trail, Canopied by Coast Live Oaks

Anyway, we took Aliso Canyon to Wood and ran it to the end where we climbed up Cholla. Confidence returned when I ran the entire Cholla uphill climb with greater speed than usual. Then we ran Westridge all the way to Top of the World. After a rest in the park, not to mention a “group” photo, we headed back down to Mathis to hit Wood Canyon Trail again. Then we came on my most difficult part of the run, that mile and a half back, half of it trail, the other paved. The difficulty has nothing to do with the climb, as it’s relatively level – the difficulty is all mental. I guess it’s the straightaway nature for some of it, plus the fact that I can’t see the end until about a quarter mile away. At that point, we dug in (at Tom’s request, thankfully, because if it were left to me, I probably wouldn’t push), and we finished off this morning’s run in a blaze. : )

Photo Op at Top of the World

Hitting Paved Road for the last 3/4 miles (the hardest part!)

Miles logged this wonderful Tuesday morning: 11.78

Docent-led Trail Run on the Fremont, Blind, Weir Loop

Up early, early again this morning for a 6:30 docent-led "intermediate-advanced" run. The morning was so very cool for an August morning in California. The skies were blue and spirits were high among the 12 runners.

I have two words to describe my running performance on this eleven mile run (pardon my bad attitude and language): I sucked.

After a couple hundred flat yards we began about a two mile climb that I just could not hack. It wasn't hot, and there was plenty of shade. The group was good, the docents were friendly. I simply could not hang. And it was that way the entire run for me -- exhaustion, like I could barely lift my feet off the earth. Negative self-talk was an added hurdle.

Irvine Lake in Distance

Looking Back Over Approx. 2 Mile Climb

A Rest Near The Top (& I'm not in a smilin' mood)

Down in Weir Canyon

Docent Shares His Knowledge

Cougar Tracks? (They measured the size of my fist -- not a bobcat's tracks)

And More Climbing . . .

The last 3 or so miles of the run, eight of the runners got out so far ahead that they were no longer in view. And the remaining 2 runners were so far behind me, I couldn't see them either. The trail seemed pretty straight forward, but now in with the heat and lack of shade, I grew worried that I had taken the wrong path. I just expected to run down when the end was near (but it wasn't near, despite my hopes). Then at one point, I took a fork in the trail that headed downward. I ran that trail until it dead-ended. Fatigued, I turned myself around and ran back up that trail and continued on to another fork. Following the footsteps in the dirt, I ran straight instead of down to the right (not wanting to duplicate my earlier error).

A bit later, I saw a group of people down off in the distance on a paved road. Thinking these were the runners, I turned around AGAIN and ran back down to the last fork. There I ran the other trail that lead downward. After a couple minutes though, I had to face the fact, no fresh footprints, this wasn't the trail to lead me back. And so I turned around AGAIN and headed back up to the fork and continued onward.

Well, I ran and ran, up and down rolling dirt trails, completely unsure I was headed in the right direction. The runners behind me were nowhere in sight, and I feared that waiting for them would do me no good if I had taken the wrong trail. And so onward I ran, checking my phone. It read 9:30 AM, and "No Service." Heck. At least, I still had plenty water in my camelback.

Up ahead I noticed the toll road, and remembered early on looking back on that. The fact that I was running towards it, gave me hope that I headed in the right direction. I just needed to get beyond that toll road, so that I could look back on it again. I was pretty demoralized and continued running, sweating pretty good, thinking, where's that damn pile of coal that the docent pointed out? I remembered just beyond that, he pointed out the dam to Irvine Lake.

Eventually that lonely road veered to the right, and I finally caught sight of the dam! Damn!!! Before long, that large mound of coal came into sight and I ran straight on into the staging area where a 9 of the 12 runners were resting and a big ice chest full of cold Gatorade awaited me.

I have to take this as just a bad day, and not bash myself for utter poor performance. It happens to everyone, and it's happened to me before (plenty of times). Still, I thought I was out of the woods for something this hard on me. At least I didn't get dehydrated. And even more importantly, I didn't fall.

But I have to explore, what did go wrong? Last night I woke every hour for some reason. And this morning, I did something that I never do before big, early runs: I ate breakfast -- peanut butter on whole wheat toast. I know that isn't much, but it's different than my usual habit. And speaking of running habits, usually I get my mileage in over 3 days of running. This week, I did it in 4.

Oh well. I'm hoping for better runs, and more importantly triumph over the voice in my head that says, "I suck" when things like this happen.

Miles logged this morning: 11

OCTR Members

Front Row: Me, Luis, Polly, Victoria

Back Row: Daniel, Tom

Vasque Peter Cyn Summer Trail Run Series #3

I am not an afternoon or evening runner. Actually, I am not an afternoon or evening racer. I love relaxed evening runs down at the marina, restaurants lights reflecting off the water. Races in the evening heat, that’s a different story.

I’m not sure what I was thinking when I registered for race number three of the Vasque Summer Series Trail Runs. I knew I wasn’t an evening racer. I guess I did it for the same ole’ reason – I wanted to see if I could beat last year’s time. Plus, there’s an added bonus to this race. It starts and finishes in Cedar Grove Park, so the whole family can come and our my boys can play while I run.

A pose before braving the canyon

Good-bye my oldest son, I shall miss you

And the horn sounds . . .

Last year I ran the trail both clockwise and counter-clockwise, and I’m not really sure which one I preferred. This year, I registered only for the final race, which ran clockwise. After a flat start, plenty of dust kicking up from all the runners, my boys running beside me for a bit, we veered to the left for an ever so slight incline on a wide almost sandy, pretty dusty road. The weather was warm, and I thought to myself, “What have I gotten myself into???”

It’s like the day zaps my energy for any kind of race later on. I tired pretty quickly Thursday evening. Not stopping for water, I sipped from the handheld that I brought along. And though, I didn’t stop running, I didn’t feel like I was progressing along very well. But I wasn’t dead last, and unless I broke a leg or something, I was gonna finish this race.

The trail is not a super tough one, but its tough enough – plenty of climbs. And on the down hills, which were rather steep I was unable to take it in my usual zig-zag manner, because the other runners ran it straight down.

I was tired – way too tired for a five mile race. I relished the cool breeze that occasionally blew in. But I mostly looked forward to finishing this race. More than anything I wanted to beat last year’s time, which was 0:58:19. My internal clock though (when am I going to get a watch?) said that I wasn’t going to make it. Felt more like an hour had already passed as I made my way toward the finish line.

Youngest and middle sons play waiting for Mom (with no fists flying!)

The Final Stretch

I saw my husband and boys before I could read the clock. He snapped away, while my two oldest boys screamed and ran alongside me. When I saw the clock read fifty-two minutes and some seconds, well, the torture was well worth it.

Final time for this 5 mile trail race: 0:52:44 , pace 10:33 (last year 58:19, pace 11:40)

I placed 173 out of 281, and was 13 out of 31 in my category (females age 40 – 44)

I'm happy that my boys got a couple hours in the park. But I’m thinking that’s the last afternoon/evening run that I’m registering for. I’m a morning gal now.

Energized

The sun shined brightly this morning for a 6:30 club run. The temperature though, was cool. Oh, how I love that cool temperature! And with no marine layer, humidity was low. It was just a beautiful morning, blue skies, dazzling clouds. I hit the dirt with Tom and Luis, feeling pretty good, trying out my Salomon’s again.

We took Wood Canyon, in and out of shade, and amazingly, I didn’t feel like I needed that long 3 mile warm-up that my body usually insists upon. After a couple creek crossings (not actually through the water, but over it), we made our way into that gorgeous shady grove towards the end of Wood Canyon. The weather still cool, a nice breeze, the company was splendid. Then, we all felt the temperature dramatically change as we ran up Cholla. It was as if we ran through a door of heat. And though Cholla was extremely tough, I ran up the entire thing, and didn’t feel like crumbling to the ground upon reaching the top. I just smiled wide and exclaimed, “that was tough!.”

Anyway, I kept up with the gang surprisingly pretty well on Westridge. We ran all of Westridge, and into the park at Top of the World. Then we took the road across the ridge to meet up with one of my favorite trails, Meadows. Meadows is brown now, no green grass, no yellow mustard wildflowers. The ride down is still exhilarating.

Top of the World, About to Descend on Meadows Trail (Luis, Me, Tom)

After a rest and photo-op, I flew down that trail, and made my way in at a pace quicker than normal (according to Tom’s GPS). I was surprised that my energy didn’t drain in the end. I ran it all the way in.

Perhaps it was the shoes. But I really have to credit today’s energy to 1) Saturday’s Trabuco run, which notched my ability up some, 2) light work-outs on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, and 3) most importantly, a change in my diet – that is not to say that I’m on a diet. I have just changed my diet, to include ten, count ‘

em TEN servings of fruits and vegetables.

After a round of chores at home, my energy started to seep. Today’s nap was from 2:00 to 3:30. But I pretended not to sleep, because for some reason, I feel guilty about napping. So when I’d hear one of my boys or my husband walk into the living room where I slept on the couch, I said a word or two, like I was just resting my eyes. I was sleeping though, most of the time. Don’t think I fooled anyone. They were good. I didn’t get any flack.

Miles happily, joyfully logged this morning: 11.5

Sleepy Gal Shootin' Baskets

I got in a two hour nap after Saturday’s run, and still went to bed fairly early. There was no recovery run for me Sunday. I just couldn’t put myself through it. How about a recovery swim? Okay, so I woke early, and hit the gym pool at 7:00 AM with a promise of only 1,500 yards. That’ll be an easy workout, I said to myself. Sunday afternoon, I promptly napped for a couple hours again.

Sleepy gal here. Well, I got to thinking, maybe I should take it easy for a bit. As a matter of fact, I haven’t done a short, easy road run in it seemed like ages. So I laced up my road shoes this morning and ran out the front door at 7:15. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was still. I ran right down the highway to the seashore, ran along the jetty where a couple of fishermen threw out lines. Then I made my way over to the wharf. Tourists, and I’m sure locals too, enjoyed breakfast in the restaurants that overlook the water. One boat took off from the wharf filled to the brim with eager fishermen.

This run seemed so unbelievably short. And though I worked up a good sweat, it was quite “easy” too. Easy’s a relative term of course. It was like I had been shooting baskets with a bowling ball, then this morning, someone all of a sudden handed me a basketball. And I took that basketball and floated alongside the marina, stopping for quick drinks at the water fountains along the way.

At the cliffs I turned around and made my way back home, plowing up the big hill with much improvement over past runs up that hill.

And then I dozed off yet again, about 3:30 this afternoon.

Miles logged this morning: 5.18

In Over My Head

I worried Friday night that I was going to be in way over my head on Saturday’s run. Then I laughed to myself, because that’s most of the time the case on these trail runs. But I really had no idea – no idea of the utter difficulty of “running” up Trabuco Trail and no idea of the sheer beauty of the Santa Ana Mountains (and in the middle of summer to boot!)

We met at 6:00 AM with five runners: Tom, Larry, Luis, Daniel and the only female in the group, myself. We started running up the canyon, past sporadic cabins, and a bullet ridden car through the cool shade. At the West Horse Thief / Trabuco Trail fork, we headed up Trabuco in and out of the shade, on a slow steady climb. But then that climb took off into the sky. There were wide rocky, desert-like roads, single tracks alongside tremendously steep slopes, and shady enchanted portions beneath forest trees.

Bullet-Ridden, Rusted Out Car

Making Our Way to Horse Thief / Trabuco Fork

Ferns in the Shade

I wonder What Lives in that Cave?

Which Way Should We Go???

Thankful for a cool breeze, I really couldn’t wait until we made the Main Divide. First timer on this run, I really had no idea when that might be, which makes a run mentally difficult. But when I saw some metal posts in the distance, I wanted to sing a joyful song. Nah, I don’t think I had that much energy. I was sure smiling though. We could actually view the other side of the Santa Ana Mountains, Lake Elsinore down below.

Going Up . . .

Still Going Up -- Looking Back (Towards The O.C.)

At The Main Divide

Lake Elsinore In the Distance (Look Very Closely)


We ran some rolling hills for a bit, one of them too long and steep to be called “rolling.” And up on that climb, I spotted a cluster of huge pinecones littering the trail. They were quite prickly and sticky with sap. I picked one up anyway up for my youngest son (he loves pinecones and I knew this one would amaze him). When I turned the corner to meet the guys, they all kind of chuckled at my notion of carrying that thing down Horse Thief. I was thinking heck, it’s all down hill from here – I can do it. Sometimes, my judgment is skewed.

Thankfully, Tom tied it up onto the back of his camelback, and we all made our way down that rocky, switch-back named West Horse Thief. I concentrated hard, with the rocks literally rolling beneath my feet, the terrain steep. There was no time for photo ops down this trail; it was that difficult for me to run.

Running out of the canyon, hikers here and there made their way in with walking sticks. I was tired, but knowing that the end was near, I was able to keep on running back into the parking lot, flabbergasted by the trails I had just run.

Now that was great training for the 25K Bulldog at the end of the month.

Front Row: Daniel, Tom
Back Row: Me, Luis, Larry


11.8 miles logged on Saturday Morning with 3,300 feet of climbing.

ps. My four year old loved the pinecone.