Peter's Canyon

When the alarm rang out this morning, I looked at the clock, 5 o’clock, and thought to myself, awww, that’s a joke, right? Some kind of mistake! Why am I waking at 5AM on a Sunday morning?

Didn’t take long before I remembered that I had rsvp’d for a group run today. And not knowing just how long it would take me to drive to Peter’s Canyon, I set the alarm extra early. I left the house extra early too – under darkness, like some kind of crazy : )

I arrived to an elementary school parking lot a good fifteen minutes before start time. No other cars in the lot, I made sure the doors were locked and fought against falling back asleep. I thought to myself, “my husband surely would not appreciate this – his wife sitting in a lonely parking lot, in the dark!” Shhhhh. Nobody tell him, okay?

I really wanted to make this run though, because it seems I run pretty much the same trails again and again – I looked at the chance to run Peter’s Canyon again, as an opportunity (see she is a little whacked!) Peter’s Canyon is the first place that I ran trails back in June 2008.

6:30 AM sharp, the other runners drove up – first Jennifer, then Tom, and right about that time, Sheila and Kelly. The sun had not yet begun to rise when we took off running on the streets towards Peter’s Canyon Park. Sheila, Kelly and I ran the ridge route, proving to be tiresome for me, with some pretty steep climbs, but at the same time, some nice steep down hills. Tom and Jennifer took the canyon route. We all met up on the other side of the lake and ran together back in via the canyon. Right about the end of this wonderful journey, we took a thick creek side trail that reminded Kelly of the Hawaiian rain forests. It was a nice detour and delightful way to end this Sunday run.

Miles logged this Sunday morning: 6.5

Early Morning on the Ridge:

Coming Off Ridge




Meeting up (Sheila, Me, Jennifer, Kelly, Tom)


Heading Back (Tom & Sheila crossing creek bridge)

"Good Girls Don't, But I do."

I want to swim tomorrow, especially because my wrist x-ray came back normal. So, today was run day for sure. But where to run? That was the question of the day (well, actually the first question of the day; a day is filled with lots of questions).

After dropping my two oldest boys off at elementary school, then an hour later, my youngest to preschool, I debated whether to run down to the marina, or to run to the Top of the World. Oh, the dilemmas of life! If I ran out the door for a harbor run, I’d be tempted to run ten or so miles, resulting in way too much time away from chores and other things on the “to do” list. On the other hand, the shortest route to Top of the World is only a 5.9 mile run. Ah – but there’s the drive to and from, adding to the time away from essentials.

What to do? What to do?

Quite frankly, I didn’t spend too much time deciding. The answer was easy. Onward, to the Top of the World!

I love that anxious feeling driving to Canyon Vistas Park, knowing that hot, steep climb up Cholla awaits me with open arms, stoically, non-judgmentally, yet mockingly. I love the twists and turns in the trail, swerving up to the ridge, lots of bike tracks, few shoe tracks. I love that I can’t see the top, but how suddenly after a bumpy rock outcropping and quick right turn, I’m there, at the top of Cholla Trail – as if it wasn’t that bad after all, but really, running up that thing was hell.

But wait, there’s more delight. Upon reaching Westridge, its two plus miles of rolling climbs are laid out entirely before me. I can see it all, and it’s more than intimidating, its frightening : ) But not too frightening. I put one foot in front of the other, once again and ran it all the way to the top. Just toward the end, Westridge’s most daunting climb, I told myself, “don’t look at the top,” and I put my eyes to the ground. Funny; I couldn’t stop looking. It was so difficult to run, I just had to see “how much farther????” I made a deal, don’t look until the song’s over. There was only about ten seconds left of the song, and I looked to the top about three times. Here’s the deal when I concentrate on the top of a tough climb: I slow down, I feel even more tired, and I want to quit. That’s why I try not to look. If I just focus on the moment, think about one foot at a time, I can take the hill a lot stronger.

About half way up these difficult part on Westridge (if you know the trail, it’s the climb that leads up to the Mathis intersection, the same one I fell down months ago), a song piped in through my headphones, a one hit wonder from my high school years, that I haven’t heard since about then. Good Girls Don’t, I’m pretty sure it’s called. The chorus goes, “Good Girls Don’t, Good Girls, Don’t, She’ll be tellin’ you, Good Girls Don’t, but I do.” I laughed out loud and changed the meaning of that song right then and there running up that hill – those words don’t mean what we all thought they meant! Good girls don’t get all dirty and run up ridiculously steep climbs like this, BUT I DO!

it's a middle-age sadness

Everyone has got to taste.
An in-between age madness
That you know you can't erase
Til she picks up her pace.

You're alone with her at last,
And you're waiting til you think the time is right.
Cause you've heard she's pretty fast.
And you're hoping that she’ll pick the trail tonight.
So, you start to make your play,
Cause you could've sworn you thought you heard her saying...

Good girls don't,
Good girls don't,
She'll be tellin' you,
Good girls don't, but I do.

Earlier today, when I was delirious this cracked me up. It’s not so funny now, but funny enough then to get me to the top of that climb. When I finally reached Top of the World I took in the ocean view and quickly turned around for that glorious run back. What a great feeling to finally make it to the top, sweating, dirty, and dead-dog tired! The run down was exhilarating – memories of getting up there, of conquering the monster, seeing the strain on the faces of the bikers who now made their way up. There are some up hills on the way back, it is a ridge trail after all. But Cholla, that’s all downhill, twisting, turning, glorious downhill.

Miles logged this morning: 5.9

ps. The song referenced is from "The Knack."

Top of the World on a Cool October Morning

Rain woke me all through the night Monday. When I phoned the ranger station Tuesday morning, I was surprised to find that Aliso Wood Canyons Park was open. In fact, it hadn’t rained there at all.

Let me tell ya! I did not feel like running one bit. I was so tired; I thought to myself, if no one shows, I’m driving straight home and going to bed. By the time my face hit that cool air and my eyes took in those blue skies however, I began to feel like I could do this.

Two club members, Tom and David, arrived to join me on this weekly run in my favorite wilderness park. We ran through Aliso Canyon and took a right onto Wood Canyon. It was quiet, cool, and we took it at a good pace. Tom commented that at “this pace we could run 100 miles in 16 hours.” At this rate, my warm-up was going pretty slowly – I wasn’t going to get my grove for at least that many miles!

So, it was the usual lovely Wood Canyon, shaded by sycamores and live oaks. We met dozens of crows mingling about in a group on the trail. I saw a bunny hop off here and there in the brush. At Cholla, Tom turned back for a 9 mile round trip. I tried to snap a group photo at the departure. The first one, I got the trash can lid in the picture, the second one sans the lid, I didn’t much like. (I ended up cropping out the trashcan for the group photo below).





David and I ran up that tough, tough exposed Cholla trail and continued on Westridge to Top of the World. What a run that is! I can’t help feel like I accomplished something great after that – even if I had walked it, which we didn’t. We ran all the way to the top. From there we ran through the Top of the World neighborhoods to enter the park on the other end. The goats had moved farther down the ridge. The skies were beautiful, blue with puffy clouds as we headed down Meadows Trail. David kept me on my toes, running this at a faster pace than I’m used to when I run this park solo. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was racing me. (kiddin’ -- but don’t you hate it when you’re in a race and don’t even know it? : )



Anyway, we ran on into the ranger station with a total of 11.64 miles logged for the morning. I was dead-dog tired, and had to replenish calories quickly, because weakness began to fall heavily upon me.

What a run! I loved it.

Seaside Run

We were socked in today in this seaside town. Good thing, because I heard it was hot, hot, hot inland. In our town, it was kinda cold. : )

I took an afternoon run after forcing myself to sleep in. I left the house at 1:30 and ran downtown, having to stop frequently for red lights. I ran by the post office and dropped an envelope in the shoot, and then ran on over to the cliff trail overlooking the marina. The falls which sometimes roar in the wintertime, were bone dry as I ran across the wood plank bridge alongside that cliff. The ocean was a light green, that wonderful, coca-cola bottle green. I ran down the hillside park into the marina, ran out to the cliffs overlooking the tide pools that are so heavily watched by docents nowadays. And then I ran through the crowded wharf and back out to the streets where I hit Highway One and ran it all the way home.

Miles logged this Sunday afternoon: 5.25

Early to Bed, Early to Rise / Emerald Canyon Trail Run

I was on the road under dark skies this morning for a run on a new trail, not actually “new”, but new to me. Not only a new trail, but a new park, again just new to me – Crystal Cove State Park, I’m sure has been around for many years. In fact, I camped at the beach end of it when I was in girl scouts so many years ago.

I met Tom a few minutes before 7:00 AM. One other member, a no-show, we took off about 7:05, on a down hill. That joy was quick to end for a steady climb along Bommer Ridge. The weather was still pleasant, though weather reports promised 90 degrees. I was well prepared with a camelback full of water on my back, and a camera, as well to document the trail.

We took El Moro Ridge to the Old Emerald Falls Trail which was a lovely downhill, cool weathered, single track. And it was pretty much down hill after that til the end of the canyon (or at least as far as we could run). At the bottom of Old Emerald Falls, we came out at Emerald Canyon, which was lush and shaded by giant sycamores and live oaks. The canyon walls were vaguely orangish, at one spot with overhanging outcrops. The sight was gorgeous.

I believe it was around mile four, or around there, that we reached “The Falls.” They were dry, but promised another run, another time, overflowing with water. We ran ahead on past that until the trail ended in Laguna Beach at a chain link fence, perhaps a country club on the other side (I could see tennis courts off in the distance).

At "The Falls"


Dead end past Emerald Falls

On Emerald Canyon (before the climb back up)

Emerald Cyn Trail (Heading back up)

Well, after running down for so long into Emerald Canyon, there was only one way back – and that was UPHILL. Actually, it wasn’t too bad, only a few tough places. Instead of turning off onto the Old Emerald Falls single track, we continued up Emerald Canyon to Bommer Ridge. And continuing on under bright, warm skies, we ended this Saturday morning run with 9.85 miles. I was dang tired.

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