Lake Mineral Wells

Truth is hubby was extremely nervous dropping me off for my trail run in Lake Mineral Wells State Park.  The plan was, my youngest and middle boys, nephew and sister-in-law along with my husband would dig for fossils about ten miles away, and I would meet them later IN Lake Mineral Wells. 

I felt a little insulted by hubby’s worry, I mean, really, Glen Rose was a fluke for me.  But I needed Glen Rose (Dinosaur Valley).  I learned A LOT.  So, while I still cringe a little when I think about Land of the Lost, I know that the experience did me good.  Still, that embarrassment and worry that my husband suddenly seems to posses about me running trails persists.  I imagined while driving into the ranger station at Lake Mineral Wells my photograph hanging on their wall – “Do not let this woman in your park.”

Their map seemed extremely straight forward – lots of equestrian trails, just ONE single track that I would take to some “primitive” campsites. I even stopped and talked to the ranger about the map.  She was a “tough cookie” with straight forward answers. 

Posing for hubby at trailhead

The trails were serene, shady, gorgeous, HOT, and downright humid.  I took the first half-mile of trail giddy, so delighted I was with the rugged terrain.  Boulders covered with greenish lichen littered the trails.  In some cases the boulders were laid out like a staircase. 

Not a half mile in, this supposed ONE-TRAIL single-track system forked!  Okay, okay, I told myself, “Let’s learn where you’re at!”  So I ran one fork down until I came upon a huge boulder in the trail.  I thought that was a good landmark to turnaround and go back to the other fork.  There the trail climbed up rocky terrain to a series of wood signs with arrows!  Glory, glory!  You can be sure that’s the trail I ran. 

Soon the arrows ended and a web of trails began to branch off of the supposed ONE trail.  You can imagine my thoughts.  I took care to realize my every surroundings.  I memorized my footprint, often stomping into the dirt to refresh my memory what it looked like.  And at forks, I marked them with two horizontal branches (small ones that I broke apart) and then one pointing in the direction that I was running.  I studied the map closely before it deteriorated and counted the number of times I should cross an equestrian trail.

I made it to the “primitive campgrounds” after crossing the appropriate number of equestrian trails, feeling very warm.  My temperature was only 1.1 degrees above normal.  I witnessed 2 White-Tail deer run by at surreal speeds, amazed that they didn’t smack into a tree.  I also crossed two bridges over dry creeks and did not see a single camper in this wilderness campground.  (Though on the way in, I saw a hiker with a hat and towel draped over his head and a backpack on his back).

Crossing bridge into “primitive campground”

I can guess why no one was camped at this “primitive” campground.  It was no where near water, the creeks were dry.  And to hike food, tent, water, etc., would be a terrible burden in this summer heat. 

The campground was a double loop, kind of like rabbit ears.  And at one point on my run out of the campground, I found myself running in an area I didn’t recognize.  Quickly turning around, I fast came upon one of my markers at the side of the trail pointing the direction.  I LOVE IT WHEN A PLAN WORKS.

I ran back to the trailhead feeling good about my direction, noticing many of the landmarks I had committed to memory, except for one portion.  This part of the trail had no lake view (which is an awesome direction marker) so I searched the floor for my footprints going in the other direction and quickly found them.  Off in the distance, two more White-Tail deer ran through the forest at crazy speeds.  And off I ran, all the way to the trailhead, where I ran along the road, across the damn and to the “beach” where my family was swimming after fossil digging.  I was so dang hot, I took my shorts off right on the beach and quickly pulled on a pair of “board shorts”.  Yanking off my pack, hat and garmin I swiftly made it across the burning sand into the lake. 

A lovely, successful run.

Miles logged today:  7.10

Elevation Profile:

Land of the Lost

This morning I got in my first trail running in the heat of Texas.  Early morning (7AM), when it was only about 87F (31C), we drove more than 40 miles (64 km) to a town called Glen Rose so that I could run trails in the Dinosaur Valley State Park.  That’s right!  Dinosaur Valley.  The story is that 113 million years ago (yikes!!) dinosaurs left their footprints in the mud there.  Today, my husband and son went searching for those footsteps in the Paluxy River while I ran the forest trails up plateaus in the distance.

Before driving off to trailhead

The initial trail took me to a dry portion of the river where I ran across to catch the “White” Trail.  Their trail marking system seemed pretty straight forward at first.  The trails are named after various colors, and boulders and tree stumps every so often are painted with a dab of that color. 

I saw from the map that there was a tributary along the “White” trail that dumped into the river right at some dinosaur tracks.  Soon into my run, I went off-trail (Oh no!  Don’t go off-trail), and ran a dry over-grown tributary back down to the river.  I didn’t see tracks right away, but found three young children fishing for bass in one of the pools.  I was alarmed how friendly these children were as they nearly walked off with me to help me find dinosaur tracks.  I wanted to say, “NEVER walk off with a stranger!”  I don’t know why I didn’t. 

I scooted off and ended up finding a multitude of three-toed, giant bird-like tracks, exactly where my trail map indicated.

Paluxy River

Carnosaur track, according to brochure probably Acrocanthosaurus

I got in some elevation, though they were mild and comfortable climbs.  That was a good thing, due to the heat. (My body temperature reached a high of only 1.3 degrees over normal and pretty much remained at about .3 to .5 over normal).   And the trail system worked good for me all the way to the top.  But I did notice some oddities.  For example, the “White” trail stopped and started throughout the system.  As did all the other colors.  When I’d reach a fork in the road “White” might head off in TWO directions, and suddenly “Yellow” would appear at the same fork going off in another direction.  Without my reading glasses, which was okay as long as I held the map far enough away from my face, I would decide which point on the map I would run to.  For example, I would think, run to the “Blue/White” intersection.  Turns out though, there might be 3 or 4 “Blue/White” intersections.  It got to be a little crazy.  But the trails were beautiful.  And they were empty.  I didn’t see a single runner or hiker.

I planned on running one big loop around the trail system then make my way back to the trailhead where I would meet hubby and my youngest son.  Good thing I had a cell phone. 

At ten minutes past my meeting time, hubby called.  “Where are you?” 

“I’m not sure.  I can’t find the “Blue/White” trail intersection.”  I assured him though that I was pretty close and should only be a little longer.  LOL.  I really thought that.  I had complete confidence.

But then the painted markings stopped.  I had no idea which trail I was running.  The temperature was growing warmer by the minute.  Fortunately, my mother-in-law came up with a great idea before we left, which was to fill a baggie up with ice and put a few kitchen towels in it.  So I was able to change out the wet cloth over my head frequently for a new fresh ice-cold wet one.

At the point that the trail markings ended I should have turned around and headed back the way I came.  Instead I kept running until the trail ended!  Did I turn around?  NO.  I went forward.  I went forward because I felt confident I was running in the right direction. 

With no trail, I set the garmin to direct me back to my starting location.  Problem with this, is that it directs you back “the way the crow flies.”  In other words, it doesn’t consider obstacles.  I followed the tiny arrow on the garmin for quite some time, bushwhacking my way, bruising and scratching my limbs.  I crossed what I thought was the river.  I climbed up steep rocky ledges, and kept moving diligently in the arrow’s direction.  That is until I came upon two parallel barbed-wire fences.  I considered climbing it.  Then looked for a tree to climb and hop it.  No such tree was available.  So, I followed that fence-line all the way back to what I thought was the Paluxy River (but I now know was only a tributary), which I crossed again and bushwhacked my way back up to that unmarked trail.

FINALLY, I found the “White” trail.  Which “White Trail?”  I didn’t know then that I had NO IDEA.  I ran it down and came upon two rangers in a 2 seater off-road vehicle.  I flagged them and asked, “How do I get back to the trailhead.”  The “Yellow” trail they pointed out.  I should have followed my instincts and continued on the “White” trail. 

Forty-five minutes late, hubby called again.  We were both losing reception, but I could hear him exclaim, “This map is TERRIBLE.”  He saw the problems with the trail system right away.  He couldn’t help me out at all, because if I said that I was on the “Yellow” trail, he would have no idea WHICH “Yellow” trail.

I went off-trail again (No, no, no – don’t go off-trail!)  I continued to drink up and change out my head cloths.  I could go on and on with the travels of Lauren in Dinosaur Valley State Park.  Let me just say this – I didn’t panic until I reached the two rows of barbed-wire fence AGAIN.  That’s when I began sobbing.  Water was running very low.  I still had an apple though and a little bit of ice.  I cried for about a minute, feeling completely hopeless.  I had no phone service and the forest was thick. 

Boxed in AGAIN! (before the tears)

I dried up the tears and got my wits together quickly and continued back downhill toward the tributary (which I still thought was the river.)  Then, there through the thicket I could see a dirt trail, and I could see that it was marked “Orange.”  My map now shredded from sweat, I remembered no “Orange” trail in my vicinity, but I ran it anyhow because it was a road!  My water now gone, I ate my apple and carried on, hoping that after each rolling hill I’d see something familiar – the campgrounds, the trailhead, the giant dinosaur models. 

Hubby called some time later to say that he was at the ranger station and that they were sending out someone to find me.  With poor reception, I was able to describe my location.  And I was told to STAY PUT, that is sit in the shade and wait.  DO NOT MOVE.  Now, I really know this about being lost.  You’re supposed to stay put.  I’ll tell you, that was the hardest thing for me to do.  I did walk a short bit for shade.  But there I sat, eating the ice that remained in my bag.  Afterward I took my temperature and happily, it was normal. 

Two rangers in a two seater arrived first.  I stood up and smiled and asked “Am I in trouble?”  They laughed and said, “No.  We do this all day long.”  They asked if I was okay, then waited with me until the ranger with the BIG truck arrived to drive me back to hubby and my boy. When I hopped into the BIG truck, one of the first things the ranger said was, “I don’t know who made up that trail system.  We’re supposed to re-do it soon.”

I laughed.

I could not believe how far in the WRONG DIRECTION I had traveled!!  I had never crossed back over the river, and in fact had run PAST the trailhead.  I felt utterly foolish and embarrassed, but most of all relieved. I apologized to everyone – the rangers, my husband, my son.  They all said that I didn’t need to apologize, but I felt that I did.  I  was cocky and sure I’d never get lost.  I had a good sense of direction.  I went off trail ALL THE TIME.  But it did happen to me.  For the first time in my trail running career, I had to be rescued.  Rangers had to search for me and drive me in.  Yikes!

Miles logged today:  8.35 (13.44 km)

Elevation Profile: +1350 ft (411.5m) / -1176 ft (358.4m)

Bulldog? What’s She Talking About?

I’ve mentioned Bulldog quite a bit lately without any explanation what I mean.  Most Southern California trail runners know exactly what I’m talking about.   For me, Bulldog is my nemesis.  Specifically the Bulldog 50k trail race in late August. 

To begin, Bulldog is a dirt road that is a little over 3 miles in Malibu Creek State Park, Calabasas California.  It’s a nice wide fire road, not technical at all, except there’s pretty much NO relief going up.  There’s little shade, and it’s STEEP as it takes you up into the Santa Monica Mountains.

Several races throughout the year go up or down Bulldog to complete a loop with awesome mountain and ocean views.  Once you get to the top of Bulldog, there’s still more climbing.  There’s hornets and bees during the summer time.  And it’s HOT.  Especially during August.

The official “Bulldog Race” takes place at the end of August, usually the hottest month in Southern California.  Trail Run Events hold a 25k and 50k.  I’ve run the 25k at least twice and DNF’d the 50k last year due to heat exhaustion.  This year is the 20th anniversary of Bulldog 25k/50k.

Xterra also puts on a 22k that goes up Bulldog.  I run that race in the spring, which means the weather is somewhat cooler.  But the race is still tough.  I’ve run Xterra’s “Bulldog” Malibu Creek race 3 times. 

Coastal Trail Runs also puts on a 25k and 50k in Malibu State Creek Park during the fall.  This race reverses the loop, meaning you run down Bulldog.  The race is much more pleasurable running up the Santa Monica Mountains.  HOWEVER, running down Bulldog is quite the quad killer.  I ran this race last year (and was stung by the same hornet twice going up “Backbone Trail”.) 

As I mentioned in previous blogs, after my 50k drop, I was so sick both physically and (somewhat emotionally) that I thought, or rather swore, that I would never attempt Bulldog 50k again (I’m too chicken!).  But semi-recently I’ve begun heat training with the hopes of perhaps attempting the 50k this August once again.  As of now, I’m not so sure what I’m going to do.  Even if I can get used to running in the heat, the cut-offs are tough for me.  Those of you who know me, know that I’m not that quick.

I’ll probably wait until the last minute to decide whether to register.  Hopefully by then, it won’t be sold out. 

ps.  the 50k is 2 loops of the 25k, giving the 50k about 5,000 feet of elevation gain.

Perhaps I’ll see you there.

Gorgeous Texas Country / Heat Training Take 3

One of the few problems I have with running (besides running in the heat) is running on vacation.  For some reason I find motivating myself to run, and finding the energy to run while on vacation very difficult.  This morning I  took 45 minutes to get ready.  Back home I get ready in about 5. 

On my way out the door this morning, at 7:10 AM, I noticed that it was 78 degrees F in the shade (25.5C), and I thought to myself, “WOO-HOO, it’s gonna be a cool day.”  I took on the front pasture first, then ran back into my tranquil cedar elm grove.  By then I knew, it’s NOT gonna be a cool one.  I felt sluggish and was already drenched from sweat from the high humidity.

Standing in the cedar elm grove grove:

With a heavy pack (I didn’t want to run out of fluids) and a calve with a dozen cactus thorns poking in the skin, I headed off the ranch.  I was unable to pull out all of the nearly invisible thorns, and in doing so, got one stuck in my finger.  That finger prick irritated me for a few miles.  Occasionally a breeze would blow, not a cool breeze, but at this point, any breeze was a good breeze.  My body temperature the first 4 or so miles fluctuated between .5 and 1.5 above normal.  I didn’t feel like someone was holding torches to my calves, but my breathing was labored, the air felt thick.  Grasshoppers were out in lesser numbers, though occasionally one would thump into my chest.

Texas country:

Hmmm.  I wonder the story behind this:

About mile 6, I knew it was time to to take out my handkerchief which I had filled with ice.  Running blogger Rachel (Running Girl Hits the Trails) had commented on my blog once that she wears a handkerchief filled with ice around her neck to cool down on hot runs.  I thought I’d try the ice thing as a multi-purpose trick.  I wore the hanky tied around my neck so that the ice that remained wouldn’t fall out.  And then once it melted completely, I took the now cool drenched hanky and put it over my head.  The plan worked beautifully, cooling me down between .3 to .5 above normal body temperature. 

Eventually, another breeze came and completely dried out my hanky.  Not good.  I didn’t want to waste water to re-wet, so I kept on running, neglecting to take my temperature for a while. 

The sun bared down hard, and I was starting to really suffer from the heat.  I felt heavy.  I felt hot.  I felt drained of all energy.

Ice-filled handkerchief around neck, thermometer in pack pocket, time for a sports drink:

Delicious shade:

Suffering, but still happily, I go off road for some shade in dry riverbed:

By mile 9, I remembered to take my temperature and it was 2.5 above normal!  I felt completely exhausted, heat exhausted and worked at cooling myself down.  I knew that I was running short on fluids, but kept on drinking.  I ate a few salty nuts.  I walked some.  But there was very, very little shade available. Unfortunately, I had to use some of my water to wet down the handkerchief.  I took a gamble, a good gamble.   I was able to get my temperature down between .5 and 1.5 above normal after that.  Still, I never felt the same.  I opened up the second sports drink well before making the cemetery.  I dreamt about the cemetery and couldn’t get there fast enough – it had shade, and a spot to sit!

One of the many varieties of grasshoppers:

I really could have collapsed at the cemetery.  Sitting at the edge of the Benson family plot, I finished up my sports drink, ate my apple, then phoned my husband.  “I’m going to stay here until I cool down, so expect me a little late.”  He offered to pick me up, but I declined, thinking I would cool down and had just enough water to run the approximate remaining two miles.

Resting in cemetery: 

I shut the cemetery gate and took to the county road with little confidence.  Probably .75 miles in, I completely ran out of water.  That’s when I knew it was time.  I WAS DONE.  I put in a call to hubby and he picked me up in an air-conditioned car with nice cold water waiting.  Upon returning to the ranch, it was 95F in the shade (35C), so it could have 100F (38C) or more on parts of my run since I found little shade. 

Miles logged today:  12.88 (20.73 km)

5:00 PM, I’m finally feeling good. 

ps.  At this point, I am seriously reconsidering my desire to run Bulldog this year.

Country Run / Heat Training Part 2

To begin, I would like to let it be known that I prefer “psycho” over “crazy.”

Having settled that, Friday I put in 2 hours at the gym in town.  It was delightful, though I couldn’t quite figure out some of the weight machines.  They are all drastically different than my gym’s back home.  The hamstring machine here felt just plain ole’ wrong to me (I’m sure I was using it incorrectly.) 

Saturday morning, I woke with terrible pain in my left knee (after much thought, I believe weight training day prior was the culprit.)  We drove all over town in search of a foam roller.  Even the sporting goods store had no idea what I was talking about, which surprised me, since Stephenville is a college town, and there’s lots of athletes here.  Well, I resorted to a canister of tennis balls and a knee brace.  Wore the brace all day, did all my floor exercises, ab work, then rolled on a tennis ball.  OUCH.  OUCH.  OUCH.  The knee pain almost instantly disappeared. 

I didn’t get out the door for my HEAT TRAINING TAKE 2 today until 7:30 AM, and it was already 85 F (29.4C).  Having filled my pack to the brim with half ice and half water, I carried with me two cold bottles of Gatorade, which after running the front pasture of the Miertschin ranch, set them down before the gate I would exit on my way off the ranch.  Then I commenced to put in a couple miles running the pastures and various trails on my in-laws’ property.  Hard miles.  The ice in my pack seemed to melt right away.

From the front pasture, I ran to my favorite cedar elm grove.  There in the shade stood the burro that our children have named Dunkus.  As soon as I got my camera out, he was gone.

Grasshoppers jumped all about me as I ran into the next pasture.  They mainly crashed into my legs.  But the bigger bizarre creatures, they sometimes smacked into my chest which was needless to say, alarming.  The worst of the grasshopper attack was when one would crash into my palm, and then flutter there for a second against my skin before flying away.

My concern wasn’t grasshoppers so much as rattlesnakes and ticks.  Wasps were a problem too, but I can take them pretty well.  Sure, I don’t want to get stung.  But I’ve been stung by a wasp before, and I can handle it.  Ticks – they just plain ole’ gross me out.  And rattlesnakes, well, I don’t consider them a problem at home, but here where the grass is tall and there is no trail, my fear was a rattler seeing me before I saw him!

Cedar elm grove

Some semi-trail running

Then the grass got to be waist high.  I couldn’t see the ground, which made for a difficult run, unable to see the ruts and rocks and such.  With that heat bearing down, I couldn’t wait to get off the ranch and out onto the country roads.  I noticed vultures flying above as I ran along the scorching-hot fence line.  By the time I made the bone-dry creek bed, I felt relief because of the shade it offered.  But the run was so difficult through this portion and I was growing warmer and warmer, that I began to grow nauseated.  Just calm down, I told myself, take it slowly and get the heck out of this hard stuff.  One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other . . .  

Running through tall grass

Creekbed

Finally, after an entire hour of running, I approached the gate to the front pasture.  I picked up my 2 bottles of Gatorade, put one in my backpack.  The other, I opened and began drinking as I ran along the pasture’s front fence line, grasshoppers slapping at my legs.  Even with the scorching heat I couldn’t have been happier to meet the country road, the land of little shade.  Once I hit that country road, a breeze came in.  I felt good.  So far, my body temperature had only fluctuated .5 degrees. 

The remainder of this run (about 9 miles / 14.48 km) was pure scorching heat.  When I’d see a cluster of trees in the distance, I ran toward it with the feeling that I was going to pick me up a pot of gold.  By now my body temperature had increased by one degree.  Drinking and running through the shade, quickly brought it down, but not down to normal, just about .2 to .5 above normal.

I draped the handkerchief over my head, but only wet it down once.  I just couldn’t waste my water after that.  I fought against the urge to conserve fluids and continued drinking little amounts frequently.  Believe it or not, for a good while during this HOT run I was having fun despite the torture.  It felt great to work against the heat AND CONQUER IT.

My feet felt particularly hot.  I felt an urge to tear off my socks.  But what felt hottest were my calves.  It felt like someone was holding torches just inches away from them as I ran.  Running in pants, I actually felt would have been better today. 

I wasn’t exactly sure on my water supply because my pack was heavy with the sports drink and a giant apple.  Ten miles, I told myself, when you reach ten miles, you can have the other Gatorade.  But at 9 1/2 miles, my body temperature had increased 1.5 over normal.  What’s a half a mile?  So I opened up the drink and ran it on in slowly, very slowly to the old cemetery where I could see its shady trees at least a mile away.

One of the few places where I exclaimed, “Shade ahead!”

Posing on bridge over dry riverbed.

I rested in the cemetery, walking about sort of melancholy over the youth buried there.  Then I sat at the age of the Benson Family plot and ate my apple and finished off my sports drink.  While sitting there, I noticed the distinct smell of men’s cologne.  It was faint, but didn’t fade my entire stay.  I thought to myself the following scenarios to explain the cologne: 

1.  A nearby plant smells like men’s cologne.

2.  Someone wearing this cologne had just recently visited the cemetery.

3. Theodore Benson, the patriarch of this family plot who was buried in 1912, had come from beyond to see who was sitting on the edge of his family plot! (No disrespect intended). 

After relishing my apple, I walked up to Theodore’s grave and noticed a handful of change, mainly quarters, some newish, others old and tarnished in a pile on top of his gravestone.  He had also a wife buried next to him who outlived him by twenty-six years.  And they had 3 sons, 1 daughter all living into adulthood (but not old-age), except 1 son who lived only 11 months.. 

Pink Lady, my favorite apple.

Acknowledging one of the many children buried here, Bennett Sageser (7 years old)

My temperature returned to normal, I took off running again for the last 1.75 miles or so.  With very little shade, I was quite fatigued.  My body temperature though remained only about a 1/2 degree higher than normal.  With about .75 of a mile remaining, I ran out of all fluids.  At one point, I abruptly stopped beneath the sun that seemed to be concentrating on only me, and I walked half a dozen steps.  Then I picked it up again, and slowly ran it on in finishing off just under 12 miles (19.31 km). 

The temperature (in the shade) upon my return

Miles run today:  11.75

Elevation Profile:  +935/-969