Trails CLOSED. %#3@%&!!!

Off and on storms have closed the local trails.  I keep hoping, checking park websites, phoning, to no avail.  My plan to increase weekly mileage back up to where I was at the end of 2009, looks dim right now.  With the hip so slowly healing and now another injury, a bruised tailbone after a household fall, I haven't been in the best of moods. 

HAVE HOPE.  Have Hope.  I've got to have hope.

I drove down to the wharf this morning for what I was hoping would turn into about a five mile run.  The weather was cold, the skies blue.  Most the runners, and many were out, wore pants, including myself.  I added to that a cashmere beanie, gloves and long-sleeved fleece.  It was beach cold, not Back East cold, so I should have been counting my lucky stars that I could get out there and run in the first place.

I headed off first into Doheny Beach, experiencing difficulty due to the pain from my fall.  I was a little pissed, but plugged away nonetheless.  Thousands of seaguls meandered about the sand, occassionally a flock of a hundred or so of those white birds would rise up against the cool breeze only to settle down a few feet away.  I really tried to focus on these outwardly things, escape from reality -- ordinary troubles, and that dang tailbone.  My anger grew as I ran along the boardwalk, and I knew . . . I knew, this wasn't good for a run.  At best, I was gonna put in about 3 miles at the rate I was going.

Finally, I put in a call home, a rant call, getting some weight off my chest.  And with all intentions of putting in another mile or so, I planned on calling it a day, hopping in the car and heading off elsewhere to fume.  Before turning back, I ran out to the campgrounds, circled it once, noting only a few campers.  I ran back though Doheny, the boardwalk busy with runners and walkers alike.  Noticing something in the sand, something resembling a large palm frawn, I ran off to investigate.  The closer I got, I knew, and that sinking feeling rose.  That palm frawn in the sand was a sprawled out dead pelican, those glorious birds that I love so much.  I turned away quickly, saddened.

I ran out to the rock jetty on the way back to the car.  The usual busy Doheny waves were empty of surfers.  The jetty also was void of fisherman.  I brushed the thought of that poor pelican from my mind, along with every other thing going on right now and ran some more.  Enjoying my music, it seemed, my pace picked up some, and my injury said "ouch" less often.  My hip in fact, did not complain at all.  As I headed back to the car, I thought, "you gotta run through the wharf, at least do that." 

And that I did.  It was beautifully lonesome, a serene Pacific Ocean slapping at its edges.  Coming out of the wharf, I saw my dog walking friend, Sherri.  We waved as we passed one another.  Approaching the parking lot, I thought, heck, just run a little further.  And so I ran alongside the yachts, crossed under the bridge, then ran up and over it.  But then I kept on running.  At first I told myself to do half of the island, but then kept on running and did the entire island, plus a little more, finally arriving at my car feeling better, less angry, a little more hopeful.

Miles logged this morning:  7

Surf City 5K

February 2008 I ran my first "Run Surf City" event.  The wind blew hard and it poured rain.  It was pretty miserable, but I did get a pretty cool finisher's medal and ended up with great pictures of me drenched and all.  Well, those Surf City people really know how to hook people like me, people who are easily amused with shiny things. 

After that 2008 race, I received an e-mail with this information:  run any Surf City event three years in a row,  become a Longboard Legacy Club member, get a special shirt and a neat little emblem to attach to my finishers medal.  I bought. 

And so today, 38 races later, and nearly 2,000 miles later, I woke at 5:00 AM, to head out to Huntington Beach for my third year Surf City event.  Storming all week, I feared a repeat of '08.  Fortunately, that didn't happen.  Instead, we had blue skies with majestic white puffy clouds.

I parked at the Civic Center (for free!) and took a shuttle in (a big yellow school bus : ).  My whole intention for this race was just to run and have good time.  That I did.  The race was well organized, sending us off in waves (I love that, because it thins the masses).  I took off in the third wave and just simply ran.  I didn't really feel like I was racing; I was just running and listening to my music.  I really didn't care for a personal record either.  In fact, I don't like 5k's much because it takes me about 4 miles to warm up and gain top speed.  5k's are only 3.11 miles.  Heck; I don't even care about speed anyway.  I just like running them races, and finishing : )

2010 Surf City 5k Finishing Medal -- The yellow piece just beneath the Surf City logo is my piece for being a Longboard Legacy Club Member.

 

Hanging Among My Shiny Things

Final Stats:

Clock time: 31:18 (not a pr, but happy with)

placed 33 out of 183 females ages 40-44

placed 348 out of 1,636 females

placed 771 out of 2,494 runners

Racing Hikers

The weather was cold this morning, dark and cloudy with little spots of brilliant blue poking through.  I ran through Canyon Vistas Park carrying a full Dasani water -- can't find the strap for my handheld in this house.  I suppose it will show up come spring cleaning : ) 

Cholla was tough but I made it on a full run.  Westridge has some ups and downs which makes the climbing a bit easier -- except for the end, which is climb, climb, climb.  About that point, I saw three blonde hikers off in the distance (all dressed in black), and I had it in my mind to pass them.  They had nearly completed their climb and were well on their way to Top of the World.  As I gained on the three, it got so close to the top that I figured that I wouldn't make it there first.  At that very last dip, I lost sight of the three women, and then there they were, practically right in front of me, with mere yards to the finish.  So, I sprinted on past them and laughed at myself for racing three hikers who didn't even know they were in a race.

I stretched at the Top of the World, looked down at the Laguna Beach and a gray Pacific Ocean.  My mood was tranquil.  The run back was delightful.  Small streaks of sun broke through the clouds to shine on the parts of the lush canyon below.  I admired its beauty.

I ran on back into the park, stretched a good deal then headed off to the gym for some light weights, oblivious to the e-mail awaiting me from my work that would throw the whole day off. 

Not out of work, just getting played (politics!)  Anyone know who's hiring in the O.C.? 

Miles logged this morning:  6.0

To Run or Not to Run.

It was gonna rain; it wasn't gonna rain.  I thought, "Heck, I'll give my hip a rest," and I thought, "Waaa, I wanna run." 

I dressed for a run just in case.  I thought I'd do a flat road run, then changed to a flat trail run . . . but if I did rain, off to the gym I'd go.  It's hard for me not to know exactly what I'm gonna do.  : )

Turns out the skies were gray and cloudy when I dropped my baby off at preschool -- but no rain dropped from those clouds.  Last minute, I decided to jumpstart out of these blues by running to the Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  But I was only gonna take the short route (5.9 miles round trip).  Uhhh . . . well, I think I can blame this on my husband, because when I phoned him with my plans to run to the Top of the World from Canyon Vistas Park, he said this:  "And you're gonna run across over to Meadows and come back that way?"

Hmmm . . .  "Maybe," I said.  "I just might."  Being that I am the planner, I actually decided right then and there: If my hip does not hurt, I'm running the loop!

No camelback, not even a handheld, I guzzled a bottle of water in the car, and because I just can't run with a regular bottle of water (ie. no strap), I ran toward Cholla Trail holding an empty Dasani bottle.  I took Cholla Trail much stronger than last time I ran it.  By the time I reached the top, I was dang glad for having changed out of my fleece shirt at the car in exchange for a t-shirt (my Bulldog T :)

Westridge was a delight, and difficult, and downright cold -- perfect running weather when you don't have water.  I reached the Top of the World, triumphantly.  Off in the distance fog hovered over the Pacific Ocean, as I guzzled down at the fountain.  I saw Cathy running down into the park (she was again doing the opposite loop).  After guzzling down some more from the fountain, I stretched, filled my Dasani bottle and took off through the neighborhoods to meet up with one of my favorite trails about a mile away -- Meadows. 

The descent was joyous.  Our storms had hardened the dirt and left deep crevices.  My right ankle felt a little weak too -- perhaps because the downhill run had less give than usual.  I pondered how I might strengthen my ankle and made a mental note to google it at home.  I didn't begin to tire a great deal until I hit Wood Canyon Trail.  Usually when I make it to Wood Canyon, I've got just 1 1/2 miles to the car (because I usually park at the ranger station).  But today, about 5 miles remained of the loop, and that took a bit of my mental power.  Just a bit though, not enough to stop me from finishing this run all the way to the end.

Miles logged today:  9.65

Injury report:  Though a couple hours later, my hip ached more than usual, it's back to it's current state, stiff and slightly achey.  Again, no better or worse from running. 

On the Trail Again

Wednesday, I figured I'd check out the hip and go for a nice flat run.  "No Camera," I wagged my finger at myself.  I only had a little time to fit in this run.  Parking down at the marina,  I made my way through the wharf -- empty of customers, by the way.  Ran through the marina, plenty of walkers about, and made may way up and over the bridge to the island.  My hip ached some, nothing terrible.  I stretched it out a couple times.  Back at home, I iced off and on, until I had to get off to work.

Miles logged on Wednesday:  5.2

Ends up my hip stays about the same whether or not I run.  In fact, it seems to get better right after I run.  So, I thought that today was as good as any to get back to the trail.  I told myself, "no camera" again, but at the last minute thought "what if I see something extraordinary?"  You never know!  So I tucked it in my belt with the promise to leave it alone and focus on the run.

I also told myself that I'd just run and see how I felt, figure out the route as I went.  Not two steps away from the car I decided that I was going to the top.  I've done it dozens of times, should be no problem eh? 

Ummm.

The weather was perfectly cool as I ran through the canyons.  And my hip felt perfectly fine.  I stopped at the entrance to Wood Canyon, stretched, again, not even a stiffness.  Wonderful.  It looked like my only problem this morning was going to be energy.  I lacked it.

The trail was wet, in places downright muddy.  Green grass sprouted all over the place.  And I saw one of the blue herons up a ways from his usual spot.  The little plank walkway across the creek was washed up the trail some.  I guess that stream got flowin' pretty good during our storms.  I saw the woman (who I learned today is named Cathy) that usually runs the opposite loop, and she suggested that we carry that walkway back to the creek.  A little concerned over my hip, we got it back in place without a glitch.

My friend, the Blue Heron (He's not trying to get away from me; he's posing : )

I reached the end of Wood Canyon Trail (approx. 4.5 miles in) quite tired.  Frankly, I was a little surprised, being that I had been taking my run nice and easy.  I ran up Cholla Trail EXHAUSTED.  Utterly.  And I made my way up and down Westridge, pushed on by the fact that I could see "Top of the World."  If I hadn't been able to view it, I might have turned around and walked back.

 From Westridge, looking back at snow capped San Gabriel Mountains

I saw Cathy at the "Top of the World," and ran across the neighborhoods to enter Aliso Wood Cyns park again, for a breathtaking downhill run on Meadows Trail.  I took that last trail in at a sluggish pace.  After cool down and nice long stretch, face crusted with salt, I was pleased to report -- no pain in the hip.  I of course, iced back at home nonetheless.  In class tonight though, my hip ached again.  But no more or less than if I hadn't run.  So, I'm glad I ran.  So there  : )

Reaching "Top of the World" looking back at hiker coming up Westridge


Looking forward to descending on Meadows (I believe last time I was here -- it was brown)

Back on the Trail!!

 Facing Meadows Trail / Pacific Ocean (& Catalina Island) in background

(ps.  beware, geek on the trail : )))

Miles logged Thursday morning:  11.64

Who Cares About Groove?

Rain has ceased!  (At least for now : )  I couldn't get out for a run though, until early evening.  It was tough on this old gal, as I am purely a morning runner.  Put me out there in the afternoon or evening, most times, it's like I'm not even a runner.  As was such today -- I never really got my groove.  That's all right though,  really.  I'd rather run with no groove, than not run at all. 

With that hip ache STILL lingering, I headed down the highway and took the pedestrian bridge over into Doheny Beach, which was closed.  Not for runners though, or cyclists, or walkers -- we just went right past the "closed" barrier.  The campground was a ghost town, the state park roads also void of cars, except for rangers who roamed about, saying nothing about the dozens of runners making their way through the "closed" park.

The weather was cold, the sunset magnificent -- orange with puffy clouds.  After turning around at Capo Beach, I snapped a picture of the sky, that doesn't even do it justice.  People literally lined the walkway at Capistrano Beach (which wasn't closed) shooting pictures of this sky.  They had cell phones and cameras with foot-long lenses alike. 

It was dark by the time I ran into the wharf.  I came upon a pelican standing in the middle of the sidewalk behind Jolly Rogers.  I really love those birds, so giant and awkward they seem, though they're quite graceful in flight and lounging out on the sea.  This particular bird didn't move as I approached, then finally at the last moment scampered away.  He seemed injured, othewise he would have flown away.  I wished there was someone I could call to help out my poor friend. 

Restaurant lights cast their shimmering glows upon the black ocean waters of the wharf.  Another magnificent sight -- one great reason to get in a night run in my parts.  What wasn't so magnificent was the pain in my hip.  It worried me some, so I skipped the marina and headed up that big hill home, instead turning north on the highway to finally pick up my car from the shop.

Miles logged today:  6.59

View from Capo Beach taken with phone camera