Big Baz San Juan 50k–Finisher : )

I could certainly write a book about this race.  But I’ll try to keep it brief (ha!)  First off, I’m so dang happy that I finished.  This is one tough, tough, course.

My main goals were to stay uninjured and to finish.  I kept my pace a little slower than the past Big Baz races.  And I followed my husband’s advice which was “don’t think” because that’s when I lose the mental battle.  And I followed runner Chris Diaz’s advice:  think of this race as two different races – run the first one (the hilly out and back down to the highway 19.5 miles) and don’t even think about the second race until I’m there!

Baz’s Race Instructions

That first ten miles were wonderful – cool and shady.  I crossed several streams rock hopping to keep my feet dry.  Then finally toward the bottom, I had to walk through nearly knee deep COLD water, which meant that I had to walk through it again on the way back – which in turn also meant that I didn’t care anymore about wet feet and stomped through most streams if I had to spend too much time finding a route.

The frontrunner passed me on my mile 7.   The second place passed me at 7.3 miles.  They were SIX miles ahead of me.  A little later, Michelle Barton (an amazing runner, IN MY AGE CATEGORY) passed me on this out-and-back portion at mile 7.83.  She yelled out to me, “You’re a rockstar.”  All those front runners were amazingly supportive.  One of the things I love about trail runners – they are not snobs.

I took plenty of pictures in those first ten miles.  I was trying to remain cool, that is calm – I didn’t want to lose my head.  No negativity.  No I can’t’s

Amazing Beauty During the First Ten Miles (which happens to be the 2nd ten miles also)

Sadly one runner broke his wrist on that first ten miles.  And as far as I know, 4 runners dropped out on that segment.   I reached that first full aid station at ten miles (there was a “water only” at mile 5) feeling very strong.  About 8 other runners mingled about.  Almost every one was bloody or cut up in some way.  I felt lucky for catching myself on a few trips.

A few of us were gently scolded for not drinking enough water.  When one of the aid workers pulled out my reservoir, she said, “You’ve hardly drinken enough water!!”  Most of us said we didn’t need a refill, but Steve Harvey (from Old Goat Trail Races) said that none of us were taking off without full bladders.  And so I topped off, put some potato chips in my pocket, grabbed an orange slice and a quarter peanut-butter & jelly sandwich and took off. All my layers by now were off and packed in my bag.

Rick, Me And Lori at Ten Mile Mark

Miles ten through twenty were tough, mostly a climb out of the long ten mile mainly downhill I had just run.  I ran completely by myself.  I didn’t hear or see any of the runners that I left back at the aid station.  Trail races are like that.  A runner can actually be 30 seconds behind you, and you never see them. 

Eventually I saw a man up ahead.  The sun was scorching by now.  He was making his way, but seemed to be struggling some.  He was in sight several times for a while.  Though I wasn’t trying to pass him, because I wasn’t racing anyone (I only wanted to finish), I did gain on him.  And then . . . AND THEN I tripped on a rock as I ran.  I caught myself from falling, but my momentum ran me straight off the trail down a steep incline (almost a cliff!).  In a split second I knew that I had to change my direction or I was going to tumble (not in a fun way) down the mountain.  I am still amazed how many things go through my mind in a single moment.  Somehow, while falling down that mountain, I changed my direction and slammed myself into the face of the slope.  My right knee hit first, then my body cramped up.  With my body cramping, I began slowly sliding down the mountainside, through thickets with tiny thorns scraping along my arms. 

I was in utter disbelief and yelled out “Oh my God.  Oh my God.”  I don’t know why I said that.  Remember this all happed in a matter of probably 1 or 2 seconds.  Well, my yelling alerted the runner ahead of me.  He ran down and lifted me up and back onto the trail.  Bill was his name.  Definitely my hero of this race.  I had tiny hair like thorns covering my arms.  But I was okay.  Bill on the other hand had terrible bloody scrapes on his right arm and leg from his own accident some time earlier.  I thanked him profusely and told everyone I met about Bill and what he did for me, even in his pain.  

I continued on to the “water only” aid at mile 15, poured ice cold water over my arms.  I also gulped up some, but didn’t refill.  I didn’t refill, because my pack still felt pretty heavy.  I figured I had enough water to make it to mile 20. 

For the next 5 miles, I stopped twice to “ice” my torn up knee in the ice-cold streams.  I didn’t see Bill anymore.  But I did see another runner.  He passed me by out of no where.  I wish I would have got his name (I would be seeing him a lot the remainder of the race).  He was extremely friendly and helpful, offering Tylenol, calories, water.  I told him that I was good, then not 30 minutes later, I was OUT OF WATER.  The extra weight from my shirt, gloves and hat had fooled me into thinking that I had more water than I thought.  Mind you, this was the hottest day in months!.  I had 3 miles remaining to the next aid, and I needed water badly.  I tried to bring my energy level down some.  Last thing I wanted was heat exhaustion.  Those last 3 miles moved by extremely slow, as I practically stared at the garmim to see “how many miles before I get water.”

Before the next station, I passed my car and I took the time to throw all my layers in.  And guess what I saw???  A half a bottle of water!!!  Heaven.  I grabbed it, and guzzling it down made it on into the 19.5 mile aid station.  I met up with several other runners.  I later found that all those runners dropped.  Michelle Barton was snapping photos.  She was already finished with the race! 

I filled my pack with water and my water bottle as well, and took off for the “next race”.  The long climb up San Juan Trail was pretty difficult, especially with 8 or so other runners running down it to finish up the race.  I had another twelve miles or so to run!  Every single one of those runners were supportive with thumbs up or “way to go.” 

Trabuco Trail was extremely rocky for many miles.  I focused hard on not falling.  There were 2 other runners that I would continue to see for the last ten miles – a younger woman (Felicia) and that extremely supportive guy that I didn’t get his name!!

I fell off the log as I walked it to cross Trabuco stream, but wasn’t hurt.  And even though Horsethief was a matter of feet away, I refused to think about it.  As expected, Horsethief was pure hell.  It was hot and I took it slowly.  But I knew what lay ahead, and that helped.  Just put one foot in front of the other, I told myself.  When I caught up with Felicia, I felt badly for her, being that this was her first time of the trail.  She was where I was 2 weeks ago.  When she asked how much longer I felt sad telling her.  I looked at my watch and said, “about twenty-five minutes.”  She didn’t have a hat (just a visor) and couldn’t cool down.  Having suffered from heat exhaustion myself, I told her that she HAD to cool down.  She didn’t have anything to cover her head.  I suggested she pour some water on her head and find some shade and stay there until she cooled down.  Turned out there was a piece of shade right there.  She took my advice and I took off getting her name so I could tell the next aid to expect her.  She told me to tell them that she’s alright and that she wants to finish (And she did finish!).

A Rocky Trabuco Trail

Breathtaking Views Behind Me Going Up Horsethief

Anyway, when I reached the Main Divide, I met up with the helpful guy.  I refilled on water and we both took off with a mere six miles to go.  We pretty much ran in together, together meaning – I was in front, he was in front, back and forth, until he finally whizzed by me, gaining quite a bit of distance crossing the finish line probably a good 15 minutes before me (not sure, just guessing). 

I crossed the finish line exhilarated!  I was almost in disbelief – I had finished a 50k trail race!!  Awesome.  This is definitely a before/after point in my life. 

88 runners registered for the San Juan 50k.  86 started, 69 finished. 

Thanks to all – those on the trails and those on the blogs.  Couldn’t have done this without you and . . .

Can’t do this without a video

: )

Winding Down

As I approach this weekend’s race, I continue my wind down.  My husband thought I should rest two days before the 50k.  I compromised with a 1,500 yard swim and about thirty minutes of strength training today at the gym.  I relished every minute of it, in a melancholy sort of way.  Then I continued at home with floor exercises and foam rolling, foam rolling, foam rolling.  And oh ya, my cartwheel conditioning.   I won’t post the wheel barrels – there’s too much screaming, falling flat on my face (& laughing hysterically) involved.

Struggling To Hand Walk To The Wall, Stopped By The Frame (Oops!)

Youngest Son Crawls Up Wall Like It’s Nothing!

My expectations for Saturday’s 50k are much different from my last attempt at a 50k.  I went into my first 50k (Bulldog) during the hottest month of the year, INJURED, and with pretty much no doubt that I would finish.  I did not finish.  What took me out of that race was something that I NEVER expected – heat exhaustion.  I go into my 2nd attempt at a 50k without injury, during a cool weathered month and place my probability at finishing around 25%.  I’m not sad about that.  I’m just realistic.  Hubby says that he thinks I’m going to surprise myself.  I hope that I do.

And so tomorrow, I will grow quieter.  That’s what I do when a big race approaches.  I grow quieter until I no longer talk (and that’s not like me at all, to not talk, that is).  I will also I run errands:  turn in attendance, stop by the running store for more gels, buy the pre-race dinner (jasmine rice, teriyaki chicken with broccoli and chest nuts) and more foam rolling.  Hopefully, I will be in bed by 8:30, or 9:00 at the latest.

A big thanks from me to readers’ advice and encouragement!  You probably don’t realize how much you’ve helped.

Until next race report, another blast from the past : )  High school volleyball team.  I didn’t really have fun (as you can tell, I’m back row, far left)

Last Run Before The BIG Run

Weather and weather reports have messed with my running schedule.  As such I haven’t run since last Thursday.  I’ve been cross training at the gym, continuing with strengthening.  But will it be enough to endure nearly 32 miles and 6,000 ft elevation gain this weekend?  I don’t know.  To tell you the truth, I don’t really care.  What I mean is, I’ve been working at getting stronger.  I don’t have all the time in the world to do it.  With 3 boys, a husband and a job, I’ve almost done the best I can.  Best of all, I’ve done it uninjured! 

Thus, I decided to run my 9.5 mile timed-loop as my last run before the BIG run.  The wind blew nice and cool, perfect running weather.  And even though my shoe (left shoe!) I again tied too tightly, I didn’t stop to re-tie. 

Applying the same rules running up Meadows Trail (don’t look forward, don’t look back, stay in the moment), I didn’t feel as anxious about the climb.  But I didn’t make it to the top of Meadows any faster.  I must say that the breeze running up that thing was heaven sent.  I also recovered pretty quickly.  But soon after, I began to peter-out and began to doubt my ability to pick up speed later.  I shouldn’t doubt, because after bringing the pace down on the climb up to Top of the World, I was back again.

But then, while running through Top of the World, my head started pounding.  I thought perhaps I was dehydrated, so I drank up, concentrating on my breathing as I tried to pick up my speed.  At one point, gardeners had their appliances scattered about the sidewalk.  Advancing, I calculated adding more seconds to my run by running out into the street, around the cars then back onto the sidewalk.  I declined those few seconds and ran right through the strewn about equipment, leaping over weed whackers and such.  One of the gardeners looked at me like I was crazy.  I was.  I mean, I am.

The headache did not cease even with an increase of liquids, so I took two ibuprofen on the run.  Then some time on West Ridge Trail, I either forgot about the headache, or it went away.  When I rounded Cholla Trail 6 minutes to spare before two hours, I knew in my heart chances were slim that I would break my record, much less make my record.  I changed my strategy running down Cholla Trail.  Rather than just powering down it with long strides, leaping from side to side at times, I took tiny steps, extremely fast tiny steps.  I made it to the bottom of Cholla in a little over two minutes!!

I crossed the finish line at 2:04:18, not exactly happy, but certainly not disappointed.  No matter what, it’s still quite a ride!

Before                                                    After

Running the Ridge after Meadows on my way to Top of the World

+1,351 / –1,357

Round Two: 2:02!!

With rain in the forecast for the next three days, I decided to go for round two on my timed loop this week.  I felt good, but slightly slower running through Wood Canyon. (And I had to stop and retie my shoe again – for some reason, I keep tying the left shoe too tight!).  Even so, I ran to the end of wood canyon about a minute faster than usual.

I had some strict rules today running up Meadows Trail.  1)  Don’t look back, 2) Don’t look at the top and 3) Stay in the exact moment of my step, just look to my feet.  I didn’t make up these rules, my running friend, Tom, told me about rules 2 & 3 long ago.  The rules helped out for a good portion of that steep switch-back someone thought they’d misleadingly name Meadows Trail  (sure you run through a meadow – but most of the trail is up, up, up).  Let me tell you, I found it quite difficult to follow the rules.  I felt like Lot’s wife, so, so tempted to look back on Sodom and Gomorrah.  She looked back and turned into a pillar of salt.  I stopped myself several times from looking back and was only crusted with salt.

Overall, Meadows wiped me out!  Still, I made it to the top in 1:03 (a minute faster than yesterday).  Also different from yesterday, I seemed to recuperate faster after Meadows.  And therefore, I picked up my pace some running through the neighborhoods.  I entered Aliso/Wood Canyons Park again a whole four minutes faster than usual.  That nearly made me giddy.  (I didn’t want to get too giddy, because that’s when I fall.)

At top of Meadows Trail, running the ridgeline overlooking Pacific Ocean (& Laguna Beach)

When I hit West Ridge, as already mentioned, a whole four minutes early, I blasted down the hill, and I pushed the uphills hard.  I held onto a tiny bit of hope that I could make two hours, and even a little more hope that I could at least beat yesterday’s time. 

I rounded the corner onto Cholla Trail with 8 minutes to spare before the two hour mark.  Man!  So close! 

“I’ll never . . . “ I thought to myself.  I was going to think “I’ll never do it!”  But I screamed inside my head, “Stop!  DON’T EVEN THINK IT.”  And I ran.  I ran right into a camera crew setting up their big flash screens amongst a cluster of pretty mountain bikers in brand new clothes.  I could have sworn one of the photographers took a picture of me (If so,  really wouldn’t want to see that picture).  Anyway, I literally plowed through the group, smiling of course, sweat pouring off my visor. 

Whew!  What a run!  What a ride. 

I made my best time since I began timing this loop:  2 hours 2 minutes (see below for complete times including seconds for this exhilarating 9.5 mile loop.)

I finally remembered to take an “After” photograph

The Loop (yesterday’s post has an elevation profile if you are so inclined)

I do not start or stop the garmin until I cross this line.

My times for this 9.5 loop (Canyon Vistas Park, Wood Canyon to the end, backtrack to Meadows, across Top of the World, through Alta Laguna Park, up and down West Ridge, down Cholla and back up through Canyon Vistas):

12/3/10    2:24:35

12/9/10    2:12:08

1/26/11    2:13:04

2/2/11      2:11:17

2/10/11    2:04:48

2/23/11    2:05:39

2/24/11    2:02:47 – almost, almost there!

2:05

Time for another timed loop of this:

Goal:  2 hours.  Best Time: 2:04

Rain lightly fell as I ran down Wood Canyon.  I don’t know if that was to my advantage or disadvantage.  I dressed warmly (though wore shorts), so the rain kept me cool.  My goal (besides the two hour thingy) was to not think, just remain in the present and to make the top of Meadows Trail in 1 hour (about five mile mark). 

Well, I did pretty good on the not thinking part, and I did pretty well at pushing myself to run faster through Wood Canyon.  Running Meadows was tough, tough, tough.  Though the trail starts off relatively flat, I began stressing over the upcoming climb.  And then I saw this:

A Blue Heron (much prettier and seemingly closer in real life)

Ends up I made the top of Meadows Trail in 1 hour 3 minutes (a minute better than last time).  But let me tell you!  I was spent.  I really wanted to quit this game today.  Thing was, I was 4.5 miles away from the car.  I had to get back somehow.

Time for a Nap

I told myself to take it down a notch until I arrived to the Top of The World neighborhoods, then pick it up.  I was drop-dead tired, and found it very difficult to push myself.  But when I finally reached West Ridge Trail (homeward bound!), I gained some new legs after realizing that I still had time to make my record.

I flew on the downhills on West Ridge and ran as hard as I could on the uphills.  I did my best time on the flats though, surprisingly.  I found myself yearning for flat trail. 

I did not beat my time, ending up with 2 hours 5 minutes.  But I was thrilled anyway.  Thrilled that I came in so close to my best time when I was so dog-gone tired.  Thrilled that I was able to push myself when no one else was around.

Another day!

Miles logged:  9.50

The Run That Wasn’t

This morning I figured was my last chance for a long run before my 50k in approximately 2 weeks.  I planned on 22 miles with 5,000+ elevation.  I went to bed early.  I woke early, 5:00 AM, and it was oh so cold.  The gas wall heaters blowing full blast, I shivered on the couch in front of my computer with a cup of coffee in my hands.  Three layers I wore, and still I couldn’t get myself to walk out that front door.  It was too cold.  And it was still dark.

My husband brought the trash bins out to the curb about 6 AM, and he said, “It’s not dark – it’s a beautiful time, twilight.  You’re the dawn patrol.”  He also reported that it was probably 40 degrees or more outside. 

Okay, I thought, I can deal with 40 degrees F.  Eventually, I dragged  myself out to the truck – dragged, not because I dreaded the run – I greatly looked forward to my run.  Dragged because I’m a mild weather type of gal.  Though I may enjoy extreme running.  I consider extreme weather anything below freezing and above 80F.   

Well, first off, it was still dark.  A bright moon shined brightly in the midnight blue skies, AND it was NO FORTY DEGREES.   I drove off with the car heater blowing full blast.  The waters in the street gutters were frozen.   Ah, I think it was a bit colder than 40.

When I arrived to Aliso / Wood Canyons I found it CLOSED due to “Wet and Muddy Conditions.”  I drove on along the upper road, hoping to find a ranger to question.  Much to my surprise, ice ran along the center of the lane.  Okay.  This is Southern California, COASTAL California.  We don’t have ice on the roads!

Finding no ranger, I parked my car, hopped the fence and walked about, thinking, if no one’s here I can still run the park, and if I can find a ranger, maybe he/she will tell me they’re just about to open up.

I twisted the door handle at the ranger station.  Locked.  I knocked.  No answer.  But I could see a light on inside.  I knocked again, then turned away in dismay.  I was so ready for this last run.

Finally, a ranger opened the door as I walked down the ramp, only to report the sad news that my park would not open today.  I needed (wanted) technical elevation today.  A road run wasn’t going to do.  So I drove home, snuck back in, changed my shoes and off to the gym I went.  I stayed there for two plus hours.

I must say, that I never really warmed up all day.  But I am learning to “roll with the punches” and accept the times when my plans do not fall as intended.

On a good note, even while contemplating cartwheels, I did manage to get one small corner of my ridiculously messy office cleaned out this weekend.  You might be thinking, “this is clean?”  Indeed it is.  I wouldn’t dare show a before picture.  Wouldn’t dare.

Miles logged:  0