What to do when rain muddies the trail? Hit the Road.

Rain fell down upon us in sunny California on Tuesday and Wednesday. I didn’t hit the trails on Tuesday, as hoped. Thursday, I thought, Thursday I’ll run trails. (Oh so desperately whispering in my mind : ) But this morning, I didn’t want to make the drive out and back to Aliso and Wood Canyons only to learn that the rangers had closed the park. So, instead I decided to lace up those road shoes and head down Highway One for a run. (I desperately need new road shoes.)

The sky was gray, the breeze cool, but not cold, and the waves were choppy, uneven sets running high up on the beach. Pelicans were off playing or feeding elsewhere; seagulls ruled the skies. I set no plan where to run, or exactly how many miles to run. I was thinking somewhere around ten miles would be nice (that cracks me up -- ten miles! I remember weeping the first time I ran ten miles.). Anyway, last minute, I decided to run through the state beach and campground, and I ran it all the way until the sidewalk ended. I didn’t feel in tip-top shape this morning, but let me tell ya! What a delight it was to get out and run, especially after having missed my regular Tuesday trails.

Tourists have pretty much vanished from these parts. The wharf was empty. Locals walked their dogs, sat at the harbor side coffee house and local breakfast joint. I didn’t have to squeeze through clusters of walkers, nor did I run through puffs of cigarette smoke. Eventually, my headphones died, and I figured it was about time I headed back– I still had laundry and a kitchen to clean, not to mention a soap to watch (which I didn’t really watch), and a class to get ready for.

The “big hill home”, though a challenge, was no problem at all.

Miles logged this Thursday morning: 9.21
Total # number of people I saw running during my beach/harbor side run: 8

Oops Again : )

Okay, so I didn't come in under 25 miles for the week. That cracks me up. Proves that things do change (despite the saying that "nothing changes!"). I remember struggling to get in twenty miles. And now that I've promised myself a "break" for October, the first two weeks I come in over 25 miles. I'm close though. And I am feeling rested, so tempted to put in a twenty-miler, but forcing myself to stay with the "break."

Don't get me wrong -- this is not to say that running has been easy on my "break" month. It's mostly fun and breezy, true. But there's tough parts too -- especially during the warm-up. Warm-ups have always been tough for me, and so have hills (just because they're getting easier, doesn't mean they're easy). It's precisely the difficulty that's got me with this running thing -- whether it's a full-force, hard-driven 35 mile week, or a take-it-easy 15 mile week. I can fail all week long at so many things, fail at keeping the house clean, fail at keeping my patience, fail at eating a healthy diet, fail at NOT procrastinating, etc., etc., etc. And then I run. That's when I don't fail, and I feel a little better. No, A LOT better. I feel better, because it's HARD, and I did it.

Anyway, I went for an 6:30 group run in Wood Canyon this Sunday morning. It was still dark when I arrived. When the sun finally rose above the horizon it never shined through the gray clouds, and it was lovely -- lovely, lovey, lovely. Tom, Sheila and I hit Wood Canyon trail via Canyon Vistas Park and before I knew it, we had reached the turnaround. It was shady and cool, and the perfect way to start the day. The company was wonderful, and the miles flat. Lots of bunnies, no snakes -- who can ask for anything better? To my surprise, the miles totalled 6.9, bringing me to 26.11 for the week. Oops.

Easy Goin'

I aimed for five miles today; mental math indicated if I wanted to do Saturday’s trail run and come in under twenty-five weekly miles, I needed to run less than six today. Why twenty-five miles? Because, I’m cutting back for the entire month of October. I’m takin’ it easy. : )

Readers of this blog may have guessed this about me: I won’t take the time beforehand to measure routes. Instead, I try and guess mileage (& measure them later). Why won’t I take the time to measure beforehand? Because, I don’t have time, or else, I don’t think I have the time. In a nutshell: I’m always in a rush – that is, until I finally hit the pavement or trail – then it’s easy-goin’ for this forty-four-year-old mother of three. I hit the trail or pavement thinking I can “feel” five or ten miles. And it’s kind of a joke really. To date, I haven’t been able to feel any particular distance.

So! I headed down the highway pretty late in the morning, after 9:30, free as a bird – no running belt, no water, no phone even! I did have my ipod which helped me breeze through this short, relatively flat run. I hit the state beach, bikini clad volleyball players spiked the ball in the sand, and surfers in abundance sat on their boards for that long ride in (we’ve got long boarders out our way.) As usual, I ran through the wharf, and after making my way out from behind the restaurants’ backdoor service entrances, I was caught by surprise. There before me, out in the mouth of the harbor, hundreds of seabirds, pelicans, seagulls and such flew about in a flurry, diving in the waters, swooping through the air. The scene was breathtaking! Those marvelous pelicans, so giant like they are, amazed me the most. The literally flapped their wings straight into an ocean nose dive. And they didn’t slow down a bit before hitting. Their splashes probably reached three feet.

Passing the spectacle, I ran backwards for a bit to keep on watching, so spectacular was the scene. I continued on to the island and my usual places, up and back the small dock, etc., etc., until I came upon the cliffs that towered above. Tide was high. The tiny beach no more, waves crashed upon the jetty rocks. I turned around at that point, and made my way back home, hoping that I had put in five miles – because it sure didn’t feel like five miles. It was a breeze.

Miles logged this morning: 7.71 Oops. : )

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.