To the Top, Please

The alarm went of at 4:15 AM and I immediately jumped up knowing this was my last run to Santiago Peak this month – my last run TO THE TOP before I run it again as a pacer in October. 

I drove in the dark.  Then I drove in the fog (scary).  I pulled into the lot at 5:30 to meet Hank.  A couple minutes later, we witnessed a flashlight moving down the road with a runner behind it.  That was Mark, fellow trail runner that I had the great pleasure of meeting for the first time this morning.  Then Michael pulled in, and we were off in my truck down that bumpy road to the trailhead.  They seemed to not mind my driving. 

Ready to hit the dirt (First off, behind us: Holy Jim, a 5 mile ascent) From left to right: me, Michael, Mark, Hank.

The gnats were out in abundance.  My pack was heavy because I’m so paranoid of running out of water, I packed it in abundance (about 136 fl. oz.!)  And my shoulder was still sore from this week’s fall. 

My calves stiff from the start, which by the way (if I haven’t already mentioned ) was uphill, I tried to pick up my pace some to keep up with the guys.  But they were far stronger and adept to running Holy Jim.  I hoped to make the top of Holy Jim in better than 1:50 (my time the last time I ran this trail).  The guys waited for me every couple miles, which really, really put the pressure on to keep up the pace.

View going up Holy Jim

The heaviness of my load weighed on me as I ran all of Holy Jim Trail.  I thought about stashing some  water and picking it up on the way down.  I realize this sounds odd, being that I was running up a mountain and all, but I was just too lazy to find a good hiding place for my water, not to mention taking my pack off to do so.  What I did instead was this:  I drank up.  With a cool breeze and reported temperatures of only 82F, I figured I was safe to do this.  Thing was, I didn’t figure how guzzling would upset my stomach.  At one point, a gnat flew down my throat.  Attempting to cough it out, I nearly vomited on my way up the mountain. Quickly, I decided, just SWALLOW THE GNATS (as Michael said, “consider it protein” : )  I took a big swig and down went that annoying creature. 

Fun.  Really.

I made it to the Main Divide in 1:45.  Mark turned back when we hit the Main Divide (prior engagement) and the remaining three of us took off for that difficult quest to the peak.  Forward, forward, forward – that’s all I could really do.  The guys up ahead, they waited for me around Upper Holy Jim.  And then onward and upward we ran/hiked.  A motorcycle drove by.  Then a brand new Range Rover slowly moved by me.  The driver rolled down the window and asked if I wanted a ride.  Did I look that desperate?  LOL.  I declined. 

I’m guessing 1.5 miles remain to the Peak.  When I took this picture, the ranges were moving in and out, that is, closer and then further from me.  Perhaps I needed more calories going up.

About a 1/2 mile left, I AM RUNNING OUT OF GAS.  This was the view to my left.

Finally at the top!

I found Hank and Michael resting in the shade at Santiago Peak.  And even though I felt I made terrible time, I actually made the peak a whole THREE minutes quicker than last time. 

View of The O.C.

Kinda shuffling around/goofing about at the peak

We took Upper Holy Jim down, a fully exposed single track.  It grew quite hot (but I had plenty of fluids) and technical as we went along.  From the Main Divide we made (Lower) Holy Jim which provided much needed shade.  At that point, I made sure one more time that Hank wasn’t having second thoughts about me pacing. 

I said, “Hank, I can’t hold a candle to you.  Do you think you can keep up this pace for thirty miles?”  (I will meet him at about mile 32 as his pacer.)  He laughed and said, “I’m going to be DEAD at mile 30, I just need you to get me in to the finish line.”  I don’t think he’s going to be “dead.”  But believe me, I am going to do my best to get him to the finish line.  I know these mountains, and even in the dark, I feel confident I can do that, especially since I will be starting off fresh on the Main Divide (I don’t have to make the climb up like today). 

Anyway, the guys ahead of me as we ran back down Holy Jim, I noticed Michael react to something, like a sting.  He abruptly stopped, grabbing his leg.  Hank stopped as well, and I feared a snake bite.  Ends up, a bee stung him and as a reflex Michael kicked a rock, which gave him the worst damage on his toe.  I actually carry antihistamines ever since a wasp attack about a year ago on Backbone trail in Malibu Creek State Park.  Michael took one, but his leg still swelled up from the sting.  These guys were amazing on the trail today.  A sting and a crushed toe would have taken a smile off my face.  It didn’t take a smile off Michael’s face. 

And we were off again!  Several cyclists made their way up the mountain in this heat, and they didn’t look happy.  I’ve heard, cycling is all about suffering.  But why not take off when it’s cooler?   One guy looked so miserable (he was walking his bike), I said something stupid like, “You’ve only got a little bit of sun to go.”  Actually he had a good mile before he was going to hit shade!

Upper Holy Jim

Running down Holy Jim (Lower Holy Jim)

I met up with Michael at the spring.  We both topped off, just in case.  When he took off I said, “It’s all about doing the time now.”  We had a little over four miles of rocky descent and about 6 stream crossings remaining.  I took my time using the spring to wet down my head and neck.  When I took off, I focused on kicking out the back so that I wouldn’t trip (and fall!).  Most off all I focused on staying in the present moment.  It’s a LONG haul down.  Amazingly it seems much longer running down Holy Jim than running up it.

Usually I suffer with anticipation on the down trip.  When’s this thing gonna end, where are the falls, will this thing f****ing ever end??? (Trail to Holy Jim Falls means I’m almost finished and it’s shade the remaining run).  It can get pretty annoying mentally, waiting for the end.  I have to report that staying in the moment made for an enjoyable trip down.  It also made for a slower trip down.  That’s okay, because I didn’t fall.  And best off all, anxiety was absent and I got to really enjoy the beauty.  (I tried not to think about how long the guys would have to wait for me at the bottom.)

When I reached the bottom, I ran past the creek, hollered out to my running friends, “I’m alive!”.  Nearby hikers taking in a snack laughed.  I ran to the truck got my ice chest full of water and Gatorade and hauled it back to the creek where we all took time to cool off in the shade and ice-cold creek water. 

Michael relaxes in pool after a nasty fall on the way down (still he’s smiling!!)

Soaking my bare feet

An amazingly refreshed Hank after relaxing by the creek

16.60 miles (26.72 km)  run today (a little under 5,000 ft. /15.24 m elevation gain).

Will I be ready???

Flashback Friday

Sometimes I think things have changed so much.  Then I see something like this . . . And I realize, everything’s really just all the same .

Circa 1971

Yup, that’s me.  About 5 years old. 

Two Fall Run

My husband dropped me off at my trails this morning.  The skies were cool, gray, beautiful.  On the way in, I struck up a  conversation with a guy who drove in with some co-workers (I think utility) to use the outhouses.  I laughed to myself, thinking, “got to be runners” on their off time.

This particular guy was friendly, his hair longish, his smile friendly.  I really looked at his face and realized that this was the man I used to see run the harbor when I first started running, before I even knew that trail running was a possibility.  He’d whiz through the area with seemingly little effort.  He was by far the fastest runner I’d ever seen.  His hair was very short back then, he also wore glasses.  We never spoke.  But after a local race, I memorized his bib number went home and found his name on the roster.  And then I researched him on the internet (because that’s what I do!  Warning : ) and learned he had an amazing running record – things like he ran a 5k in about fifteen minutes (at age 40), and that he was a marathon qualifier in the Olympic trials twice. 

Talking to this man for me was probably like talking to rock star for some.  Finally, I said, “Are you a runner?”  When he answered yes, I asked his name, to which he responded, Danny.  I had to stop myself from saying his last name before he did.  I didn’t want him to know that I knew all about him. (Why?  Because I kinda felt like a stalker, though I’m NOT ).  But I did tell him that I used to see him running the harbor all the time, that he was that “really, really fast guy.”  He smiled and said, “I’m not that fast anymore.”

I bet he’s still a heck of a lot faster than most.

So, I took off running my trails feeling extremely up.  Not a mile in on Aliso Creek Trail, I ran over a cemented portion (I believe there for flood control) and out of nowhere, I flew through the air and crashed to the ground, kind of skidding along due to my momentum.  I did not roll.  I just went thud, thud, thud.  This was a painful fall.  My first fear was that I broke some fingers because when my wrist hit, my fingers then slammed down and my body crashed past them, bending the pointer, middle and ring fingers more than they should bend.  After closer inspection, damages were minimal:  1 bruised shoulder, 1 scraped (soon to be swollen) knee, 2 bruised palms, 1 sore wrist, 4 or so small punctures to the hands and 3 very sore fingers.  (Seconds later, my doctor’s office called – a routine call, but isn’t that funny that I should get that call just then?)

I pretty much felt like crap and considered calling my husband to pick me up.  Then I said to myself NO.  I’m not going to let this stupid fall ruin my run.  And so I ran.  And I ran some more.  I ran for so long, that I finally had to just stop because I wanted hubby to pick me up before getting our boys from school.  Funny thing – I really didn’t even tire.  This was one of those odd runs.  The breeze blew cool, and I had all that I needed on my back.  I took another unmarked trail when I reached the top of Meadows.  I chatted with some hikers.  I ran past goats.  And I saw my “old” (actually very young) pals from the Conservation Corps again. 

Before my run ended however, I took another spill.  This fall was quite different than fall #1.  As I ran the leaf littered, forestry Wood Creek Trail looking for my deer (see prior blog, there’s a deer I’ve been trying to photograph) I went flying through the air once again. 

What the heck!  It’s funny though, if there is such a thing, this fall was a perfect fall (except for the rolling through poison oak bit).  I hit and rolled along that soft dirt, practically doing a somersault before bouncing back up.  There was no pain involved whatsoever.  The only damage was dirt head-to-toe.  (And so far, no poison oak, but I’ve always been very lucky with poison oak)

Some scenes from today’s absolutely thrilling and beautiful run:

Top of Meadows looking down at Aliso Canyon

Running toward Top of the World from unmarked trail off of Meadows

Kicking back at one of my FAVORITE places:  Top of the World

Car Wreck Trail

Dirt as my only damage on fall #2

Conservation Corps on Coyote Run Trail

Wood Creek flowing along Coyote Run Trail

Speed Training (& How long can you survive without water?)

Back to speed training today, but with a different approach.  At the suggestion of fellow trail runners, I’m starting off small.  Twenty minutes of speed work today.  And it was not pure hell.  In fact, it was kind of fun.  I chose a local bluff full of morning walkers who didn’t seemed too pleased with the new kid in town running their trail with weird speed bursts every 30 seconds.   I worked up quite a sweat then spent an additional forty-five minutes on the bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean doing my strengthening exercises which included plyometrics (jumping up onto the seat bench again and again). 

On another note, we’re back to cool weather in Southern California, which is perfect for the start of my speed training.  When our heat does return (because that’s a high probability, it’s only mid-September after all), here’s some interesting tidbits I found in The Worst-Case Scenario Almanac: 

ESTIMATED SURVIVAL TIME IN THE DESERT WITH LIMITED WATER

Resting in the Shade

Temperature	No Water	3 liters	8 liters
122 F	2 – 5 days	3 – 5 days	3 – 5 days
86 F	5 days	5 – 8 days	14 days
68 F	12 days	14 days	23-25 days

Resting by Day, Walking at Night

Temperature	No Water	3 liters	8 liters
122 F	1 day	2 days	3 – 5 days
86 F	4 days	5 days	5 – 7 days
68 F	9 days	10 – 15 days	10 – 15 days

My Focuses

Feeling stiff from Saturday’s race, I put in some gym hours Sunday.  Still a bit stiff this morning, the sun was hot, but the breeze was cool.  I decided it was time to hit the dirt.  Though I went to my same wilderness park, I changed it up a bit by entering through Aliso Canyon, at the ranger station (as opposed to my usual Wood Canyon entrance).

White board at ranger station, always an interesting read

I ran with three goals in mind, which I found a little difficult to juggle.  I wanted to focus on form (mid-foot strike, kicking out back, etc).  I wanted to focus on a quick cadence.  And I wanted to focus on staying in the present moment. 

Surprisingly, I found myself running quicker than usual.  I suppose Saturday’s race was a bit of speed training.  Staying in the present helped me to keep good form and a quicker cadence, but the present also posed a problem.  I would often get distracted.  When you’re in the present you hear a multitude of sounds.  The sounds of nature, not to mention the sounds of silence between those noises.  I found myself investigating these distractions.  One particularly high-pitched chirp sent me on a mission to find what I thought would be a bird.  After drawing my attention to every single bit of my surroundings, I finally found the culprit.  Deep within a tree cluster, a perched squirrel set off this alarm-like squeal.  (They seemed shouted in exact increments).

Crossing creek on Wood Canyon Trail

Not only did I notice all the different sounds while staying in the present, I noticed things, like ladybugs, a colorful caterpillar.  I spotted a spider crawling out its hole in the dirt, then quickly slam its leaf trap door as I ran by.  I also noticed this unmarked trail, that I turned onto without a thought:

It lead to this delightful shade:

And the trail dead-ended here:

From Wood Canyon trail I hopped onto Wood Creek trail.  It was dark from shade as I ran through the spider webs, crumbling leaves beneath my feet.  Camera in hand, headphones off I ran this trail on another mission – to finally snap a picture of the deer that has scared me on TWO occasions.  It’s got to be the largest deer that I’ve seen in this canyon.  And both times it about gave me a heart-attack while I ran Wood Creek.  I wasn’t quick enough to get the camera out. 

This time I listened closely to the wooded trail and I heard birds I’ve never noticed before.  Finally, I thought I heard hoof steps.  I stopped in my tracks and listened very closely and could tell the direction of the noise.  It travelled closer to me, but to my right.  I stepped lightly waiting . . . waiting . . .  waiting.  Any second, whatever it was would appear from around a cluster of trees.  And then, I saw it – a large black bird hopping about rustling his beak through the leaves!

Gladly I made the climb to West Ridge via Cholla where I came across fellow trail runner Jeffrey traveling in the opposite direction.  We chatted for a few seconds, and I was off again to The Top of the World.  I got to enjoy a cool breeze this entire run.  And I got to run DOWN Meadows Trail.  Surprisingly, I kept up my faster than usual speed all the way in to the ranger station.

Lovely run!

Top of the World, Santiago Peak in distance (the right of the 2 tallest peaks)

Miles run today:  12.29

Heartbreak Ridge Half Marathon

According to internet sources, Heartbreak Ridge is a narrow, rocky mountainous area in Korea. The Battle for “Heartbreak Ridge” began on September 13, 1951 and lasted for about a month. 

This battle is known as

“one of heartaches as well as of Heartbreaks [of the Korean War], but even more for the communists than us. The V North Korean Corps had been destroyed and replaced by the 24th CCF Army. The II North Korean Corps had also been decimated. On "Heartbreak Ridge" the 23rd Infantry had captured prisoners from six communist regiments. And all of this was taking place during the period when the truce talks had been suspended. Soon after these successes . . ., the communists agreed to resume the truce talks.” http://www.2id.org/heartbreakridge.htm

The only numbers I could find on casualties during The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge are:  3,700 American and French, and approximately 25,000 North Korean and Chinese.

I ran Camp Pendleton’s Heartbreak Ridge half marathon a couple years ago and had a terrible time of it.  Though I finished the race, I lost the mental battle.  I was miserable and said that I would NEVER return to this up and down, up and down off-road race.

I should have known better.  One of the few things I’ve learned in life is to never say never.  I am serious.  You can pretty much guarantee that you’ll do whatever it was you said you’d never do.  And you’ll do it relatively quickly too.  For God sake, never say anything like:  “I’ll never do heroin,”  or “I’d never bleach my hair platinum blonde,” or “I’d never have ten kids.”  Just. don’t. do. it.  Fortunately, I haven’t said these things, else I’d be a platinum blonde heroin addict with ten children.    But I did say that I’d NEVER run the Heartbreak Ridge half marathon again.  

So there I was this morning beneath cloudy, thundering skies, mingling with runners in the third wave.  First wave participants were all military men and challenged runners.  Wave 2 runners were civilian men and wave 3 runners were civilian and military women.  I asked a runner next to me about the waves, she looked familiar, but I figured I’d seen her at races before.  She looked at me also with recognition and said, “Are you Lauren?” 

LOL.  The young woman was Rachel, one of my blog readers (& commenters!) who is a blogger herself, not to mention fellow trail runner. 

Posing with Rachel

Wave One ready to go:

Hanging back with Wave 3:

I decided to run this race, not to beat my time, or even make a particular time.  I thought 2:15 would have been nice, but with the pretty much constant climbs, I thought that might not happen.  What I really, really wanted, and why I even registered for this race, was to beat the mental battle!  I wanted to run this race hard, never stopping.  I wanted to run it happily, joyfully.  I wanted to enjoy the beauty of Southern California coastal hills.  I wanted to feel the breeze; I wanted to giggle inside when the young marines said “Excellent job ‘Mam,” as I passed.

I took off on pavement with a “C” written on one calve (“C” for Civilian) and 46 (for my age) on the other.  A “3” was written also in black on my hand to indicate my wave.  After about a mile, we hit dirt and I was on familiar ground.  I didn’t contemplate the long hill approaching.  I just ran.

A little dip in the first 2.5 mile mainly uphill run

Heading into mile 3:

Down, down, down to the turnaround

Lucinda going strong (I’ve seen her at every Camp Pendleton race I’ve run, carrying this flag, wearing black and running in boots! One awesome lady)

I have to say that I ran this race happily, joyfully and that I won the mental battle.  That’s not to say that it didn’t get tough, and that I didn’t slow my pace.  I focused on keeping my cadence high on the up hills.  And in the last few miles, a good ninety percent around me began hiking.  I never hiked.  I ran the entire time.  I’m not sure where I lost my time this year, because I believe it took me seven minutes longer to finish this time.  Perhaps it was during the few flats, as that’s where I noticeably slowed.  I know I ran the up hills and down hills quicker.  I also wore a camelback last time.  This year, I drank mainly from aid stations.  One tiny thing that could have added to the extra time is that I did not take one photograph the last time I ran this race. My time this year:  2:32.  But really, I don’t mind one bit because I did what I came out to accomplish.  Mental battle won:  CHECK

3-way-tie crossing finish line

Miles run this morning:  13.1

After thought:  I have nothing against the hair color platinum blonde.  It’s a gorgeous color, just not for everyone, especially not for me. AND nothing against people with ten children.  I just COULD NOT do it.   Birthing babies took A LOT out of me. : )