Top of the Mornin' (where else but on the Trail?)

Fall is upon us. And oh how I love that cool weather. My boys and I were actually cold driving to school this morning. I drove to Aliso / Wood canyons afterward, wondering whether I should have opted for long sleeves. There I was in shorts and short sleeves, strapping a camelback full of cold water onto my back, delighting in being cold. (I really have had enough of running in the heat).

Tom and I hit the trails at 8:30 sharp. The breeze was slight and wonderfully cool, the skies, blue with a mixture of puffy and wispy clouds. We ran Wood Canyon in downright shade -- sunglasses I pushed up on my head. What contrast it was to the past few months.

My running friend let me try his GPS on for size, after wondering outloud whether it was heavy. It wasn't heavy. I found myself staring it at so much, I feared that if I owned one, I'd probably fall on my face once or twice. Surprised to find us in the nine something minute mile a few times, I said, "Whoa, we better slow down."

After turning onto Mathis Trail, Tom continued running with me until the climb. I gave him back his GPS and he turned around for a six mile total round trip. Then I put my headphones on and continued running up Mathis Trail. I wish that I could adequately relay just how difficult it is for me to run up that thing. Perhaps I can shed a slight glimpse. I sweat salt running up Mathis, even in this cool weather. And the salt drips into my eyes which stings quite badly. At times, the grade is so steep that the only way to run it is on my toes, and when I try to force a mid-foot strike, my calves hurt. I ache to rest about five minutes in. But I concentrate on my breathing and refuse to think about how much longer I've got to go. And then when I reach the top of Mathis, I'm not even at Top of the World. I still have to climb Westridge. I say "have to" in a gleeful sort of way, because reaching Top of the World is a triumphant prize.

On Westridge, almost to the top, overlooking Laguna Canyon Road



Looking down from Top of the World -- the glorious Pacific in the distance

At Top of the World, I strolled through the park, eating my 200 calorie fruit and nut bar for breakfast. All six tennis courts were full as the meters below indicate (how funny -- meters? I didn't notice them on my last stroll).



Having cut back my mileage some (remember my break?) I felt much stronger cutting across the ridge neighborhoods. I ran on past all the "No Trespassing" signs posted into the ground and stapled into tree trunks, onto the single track that leads back to the wilderness park. Looking forward to seeing "my" Meadows trail -- that exhilerating switchback that leads down to the canyon floor -- I picked my pace up some. But, alas, no GPS to know for sure. Finally making it out of the neighborhoods, there before me grazed hundreds of goats on the slope. What a surprise! (A precious surprise -- they were so cute!)

Looking down (Meadows trail meandering at the base)


Something new at the park

Descending down Meadows

Finishing up Meadows


In all I ran 11.5 miles this morning. It sure didn't feel like it. Cutting back has really helped the overall fatigue factor. I'd been running myself ragged. : )

Cool Morning Trail Run

Again I woke through the night. At 3:30, I thought, maybe I should just get up. Nah. 5:00 AM, I thought the same, and again at 5:30. When my cell phone alarm finally rang at 6:00, I jumped up, “What the heck! What’s today? What am I supposed to do?” And then I remembered, today’s a stress-free morning – I’m going for a nice and easy trail run. Sunday’s the new member run for my group, and from experience have found the new member runs to be pretty stress-free. (Notice my STRESS on stress-free – I’m trying to tone it down in my life right now : ))

After a couple cups of coffee, I set out beneath big, gray cloudy skies. Rain drizzled as I made my way toward the freeway – just enough for one wiper’s worth. Let me tell you the relief I felt was great, knowing that I would not run this morning in the heat.

I met Tom at the Quail Hill Trail Head, and we took off running on a well groomed almost sandy path for a refreshing run in the Irvine foothills. It seemed like ages since we’ve run together, ages since I’ve run Quail Hill.

We began this morning’s run on an incline, nothing terrible, but still, it’s always tough for me to START running uphill. I really like about 3 miles of flat running to begin (downhill is nice too). One very nice thing about beginning on an uphill is that, if it’s an out-and-back like today, you know you’re gonna end on a downhill. I like that!

About a third of the way in, we met fellow club runners, Sheila and Dave, making their way in the opposite direction (two runs were posted for this morning). We stopped and chatted for a bit. We were all smiles – who wouldn’t be with this nice cool weather, STRESS-FREE run?

Obviously, I enjoyed my run this morning. With us both nursing injuries, I think we did pretty good (hopefully, Tom will say the same). Soon after, I was thinking about, planning bigger, harder runs, when I told myself – take a break, remember? You’re cutting back. Well, at least for October.

Miles joyfully logged this morning: 5.20

"Don't Forget to Slow Down in Life."

As I drove my two oldest boys to school this morning, I smiled wide and said, “I’m SO HAPPY.”

“Why?” They asked.

“Because I’m going running.”

“So?”

“TRAIL RUNNING.”

“Oh,” my oldest said with a look that seemed to say, I still don’t get it.

I haven’t seen Top of the World in weeks. Driving to Canyon Vistas Park, I felt giddy. The sky was blue with white wispy clouds. I knew it was going to be hot, but who cared? I didn’t.

I buckled my running belt (phone, pepper spray, gum, etc.) and strapped on my camelback with more than enough water to take me to the top and back (see “Quickest Route to Top of the World” 9/10/09). Then I put those headphones on and ran down Canyon Vistas Park into Aliso / Wood Canyons Wilderness Park, feeling a little anxious about running up Cholla. “Don’t think about it,” I told myself. “You know you can do it.”

I couldn’t have cared less how hard it was running up Cholla. Yup, it was hard, but it was GREAT. Wearing a cotton t-shirt so I’d really get the full affect of the climb’s difficulty, I was drenched in sweat by the time I reached Westridge. One really nice thing about Cholla is that it twists and turns. That makes it difficult to concentrate on the top, being that I can’t see it. The end comes out of nowhere. I like that. I look to the ground and put one foot in front of the other. The knowledge that I’ve done it before, plus the fact that I know that Cholla trail is not very long, helps.

Hitting Westridge was a relief to say the least. Ahead of me, a trail of rolling hills swept off into the distance, with Top of the World looking, oh . . . so . . . far . . . away. Westridge has two really difficult spots: 1) just before reaching Mathis, the climb is quite steep on sandy-dirt, and 2) when almost to the top, there’s another longer, sandy, but with some nice flat rock mixed in to nearly finish it off.

I picked up my speed to run to the edge where I eagerly looked over. The Pacific Ocean was a nice dark blue today. A few cyclists rested at the benches there, as hikers who parked at the top, made their way down Westridge with walking sticks. I ran down into the park, and thought about the wall post from a new Facebook friend, Ileana G. (whom I met at the Writer’s Conference). She wrote, “Hello wonderful people! Don’t forget to slow down in life . . .”

For the first time, in who knows how many times I’ve run to the Top of the World, I took a stroll through that park. I knew about the tennis courts. But I didn’t know there were six of them! There’s also a finely manicured, full-size baseball field back there. And metal sculptures of life-size whales diving into the grass (with just their rear fins emerged) hid behind the courts. This I never knew! I walked beneath the arbors that I didn’t know existed either, when I reached the final surprise: a basketball half court.

After fully discovering the park, I ran back to the trail to the sign that warned that I was entering mountain lion territory. I recalled my earlier paranoia over mountain lions, overcoming that and devising (thru research) a game plan should we ever meet (older blogs found on my MySpace page).

I joyfully, yet carefully, ran up and down Westridge. I was having so much fun, that I toyed with the idea of heading down Mathis for a longer route home. I fought against that urge. Don’t ruin a good thing, I told myself. Just do these few miles – remember you’re taking it easy for a while.

Yes, I’m taking it easy. : ) I finished off Westridge, then ran back down Cholla, past three cyclists struggling up that thing. Then back through the park, I ran to the car where I stretched and finished off my water.

I got lost driving home (again), still looking for that on-ramp to the toll road. : )

5.9 glorious miles logged today, my first run for October.

One MORE for the Road

I planned to stay off the trails, that is big climbing trails until I got this nerve/toe (?) problem figured out, because I suspected that it was the steep climbs that caused the injury.  The good news is:  I ran on roads today and when I returned, I took off my shoes and OUCH.  Toe pain : )

I guess that means that I can return to the trails.  (Great logic, eh?)

Anyway, it is true, today I hit the road one more time.   And it was beneath gorgeous blue skies that carried with it warm winds.  Those winds blew up against my baby jogger, creating a parachute working against me.  Needless to say, the run was tough -- but tough is good.  Feels good to work really hard. And baby, well, he's no baby anymore.  My four-year-old has grown since I last pushed him on the run.  He was a heavy load.

I put up a good sweat today and loved every minute of it.  Even though I had to use my husband's ipod (because mine, since the crash, has only the same three cd's I've been listening to for the last few runs and workouts -- and I just can't take it anymore).  Regardless, he's got some good music on there.  I took it off "shuffle" and handpicked some good running tunes.  

I didn't much pay attention to my surroundings.  Just thinking, thinking, thinking, strategizing about my writing, what I'm gonna write, how I'm gonna market it.  Baby screamed in delight as usual at all the squirrels that scurried about on the island. And even things a simple as a pigeon brought him joy!  Remember the days?  

I do.  I get them once in a blue moon.

Using my inner-gps, I gauged what I thought might be 5 miles.  At home I measured and learned, miles logged this morning:  6.23

One for the Road

Well, I'm back, after a weekend of debauchery (nah, just kidding, I was just at a writer's conference), and I've been aching, I mean aching to run. Actually, I hadn't planned on a run this evening, but with a new teaching assignment and having to learn the ropes this week, today was the day.

I was a little afraid, 1) because of the heat, and 2) it's the evening!  I usually can't run after a busy day.  Amazingly, even with a warm breeze, and blaring sun, and pavement beneath my feet (boy do I miss the trail), I had great fun.

Sunglasses, and ipod with the same three cd's loaded since my computer crash, I ran down the highway, up and over the pedestrian bridge where I squeezed my way through two guys stretched out smoking pot. And then I made my way, against my own advice, to the campground. I thought it might be too hot there, too smokey. Yes, it was hot, but smoky, not -- instead lovely dinner smells on the bbq.

And then I did my usual thing, ran up to the jetty, longboarders to my left simply sitting in the still waters, waiting for that wave. Egrets stalked the grounds by the fisherman who threw their lines out at the rocks, and across the marina waters, hundreds of pelicans simply sat at the filling dock, like they were sleeping or something (I couldn't tell).  All the while, I didn't stress about anything -- I just let my mind glide along with my feet.

Anyway, thru the wharf, crowded restaurants, and those lovely water fountains for refreshment along the way, I ran onto the island. I powered up that bridge to it, feeling no pain, just nice easy runnin'. Yes, I had one of those easy runs today. And when I arrived at the cliffs, where waves rather gently made their way in, the skies were dark, stars twinkled in the moonlight.

Can it get any better than that?

The night was still as I headed back, golden lights reflecting off the marina waters. Though still, the air was cool. And even though my cotton t-shirt weighed about five pounds about now (drenched with sweat), I powered up the big hill home, delighted that I could make this one for the road.

Miles logged this evening: 9.13

"Crack Baby Crack, Show me You're Real."

I can't even begin to tell you, nor do I think I will.  Nothing personal.  Let's just say at the moment:  Tough times = all the more reason to run!

A couple of quotes come to mind.   First from the only Dickens book that I've read (Tale of Two Cities):

"IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair . . . " "

Sure, I'm not facing the French Revolution.  But I can relate . . . yup, maybe we can all can relate.

And then from The Old Testament: Ecclesiastes
"To every thing there is a season, and time to every purpose under the heaven:A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance . . . "

And so there have you, my feelings, someone else's elegant words . . . as usual.   

So, what does this have to do with running, specifically trail running? As with life, when I run that tough hill, or long stretch, I can't look far ahead, I have to take the good with the bad.  And though that hill may be tough, enduring it is the real award.  I can't focus on the difficulty. Instead, I take in stride (column straight, kicking out from the back) acknowledging that this is one of the tough parts, plant one foot in front of the other and just keep on moving. (If only I could do that in real life!)  If I start to look too far ahead in my runs, keeping my eyes glued to the top of that hill, well, then, another quote comes to mind:

"Crack Baby Crack. Show me you're real. Smack, Baby Smack, is that all that you Feel?" (David Bowie, "Cracked Actor" from Aladdin Sane -- get it?  Sounds like A Lad Insane : )

That's precisely what happens if I don't stay in the immediate moment when I run -- Crack Baby Crack.  And that's precisely when I began to falter on my last race.  It's when I saw those front runners heading back up that long hill, and I began to fret about that hill probably two miles before I even got there.

STAY IN THE MOMENT AND ACCEPT WHAT IT IS.  That's what trail running has taught me more than the above quotes.  I don't always remember what I've learned.  But heck . . . it's a start.

So, even in the best of times, or the worst of times, and during every other season and purpose under heaven, I can stop that CRACK. I'll show you I'm real -- one foot in front of the other, I'm movin'. It's just life. And with life, at least I got in a run. Yes, I got to run, be it against those warm Santa Ana, westerly blowin', hot winds . . . I got in a fast (for me) relatively flat run. : ) And it was lovely,and it was forgetful, because I thought about nothing.  Nothing at all.

Miles logged this warm, warm morning: 6.0