Boulder Hopping

Day 18 of my running streak, I planned on an easy day so that I could “rest.”  I had something fun planned: run the jettys at the marina.  So, I parked the truck in a lot at the base of the cliffs, and I headed for jetty #1.

I ran up the pier on the way to watch the fishermen/women:

Gosh!  Some people ruin all the fun : )

I ran past a replica of the Pilgrim, the brig that Richard Henry Dana sailed from Boston to Dana Point in the mid 1800s (approximately):

I admired the jetty from afar imaging how fun it would be to run:

Then I ran upon this:

Now a person here and there has on occasion referred to me as a scofflaw.  But with 3 or 4 docents ten feet away and a sheriff’s station on the marina island, I couldn’t risk a ticket, so I ran on down to the beach for some major boulder hopping instead:

I had great fun leaping from boulder to boulder.  I surprised myself with what my legs could handle while running.   And I thought to myself, “this is great training for Calico.” (my next race)  The beauty so immense, I stopped occasionally for a photo op with my brand new camera:

The boulder hopping went on and on, 1 mile straight, one-way.  Fantastic fun!  Seriously.  It gave a good sweat.

With lots of tide pools along the way:

I had one close call (& WITH CAMERA IN HAND!):

Waves pounded the rocks:

And I ran these rocks until I could run no longer, else the great Pacific swallow me up:

So I headed back running upon these (or rather hopping):

With 2.15 miles on the garmin at the jetty, I decided to run a bit into the marina before returning to the truck:

Great, great fun for a “short” run.  I am learning to love running again (as if I didn’t already), but I’m learning to love it even more with these short “rest” runs.

Miles logged on my 18th day of Streaking into the New Year: 3.16

Thanks for reading!

Harding Truck Trail, Take Two

The first time I ran Harding Truck Trail I didn’t do much running (except on the way back), and I didn’t get very far the trail was such a bear.  It’s not a technical trail.  But it’s never-ending in its climb.  The second time I went to Harding Truck Trail, I didn’t run it at all.  Instead, I watched others suffer the trek when I volunteered for the Harding Hustle 30k race. 

I’ve avoided Harding Truck for a long time.  But then with these recent runs to “Four Corners” where Harding Trail Trail intersects, I’ve been wondering something.  How is it that when I first “ran” Harding Truck Trail I ran south, and the trail appeared to continue on a southern route, yet when it meets “Four Corners” it’s travelling north?  

Did I get out a map?  No.  Did I open up my Google Earth software and investigate?  No.  Of course not.  Today I decided to go on a scouting mission and just run Harding Truck Trail to see where it wound.

The morning was warm, the trail exposed.  Yet, I ran.  And I ran.  And I ran.  That trail kept on climbing and climbing with no end in sight.  I saw one biker quite a ways behind me.  Other than the rider, I was completely alone.

Harding Truck Trail / a lonely trail:

I saw tracks like these ALL OVER THE PLACE!   A mountain lion’s been here:

Still running up, and still running south:

Winter glory:

Still running UP, still travelling south, but moving more and more eastward on the switch-backs:

I recognized some landmarks as I looked back, and in no way was I travelling in the direction of “Four Corners.”  I could see the red cliffs near Black Star Canyon, and Irvine Lake BEHIND me.   And as I switch-backed higher and higher I couldn’t tell when the trail made its turn toward the north.  Finally, I decided if I was going to get back in time to pick up the boys, I needed to head back.  So, I stopped. 

I took a few pictures before heading back on that long downhill.  AND THEN.  And then . . . with the lens still open, I.  DROPPED.  MY.  CAMERA.  If I would have had the strength you would have probably heard the echo of the “F” word travel down into the neighboring counties.  The fact that the lens was open when it hit, and the hard impact that it made, told me that I had broken ANOTHER camera.  This would be number four. 

Sure enough.  My camera was dead.  Gone.  And it was brand new.  Aside from calling hubby to whine about my clumsiness, I tried to let go of the great disappointment I felt.  Why was I holding pepper spray, a Luna Bar, and my camera in the same hand????  Especially with my history!  What a dufus.

I took a detour driving home to check our Modjeska Grade which passes the Santiago Truck Trail entrance (it had been so long since I’d been there).  Later, I went off to the store that everyone loves to hate (Wal-Mart) with receipt in hand.  I told them that the lens didn’t open anymore.  They called in someone from photo.   I didn’t tell him that this was the fourth camera that I killed and I knew exactly why the lens didn’t open.  He didn’t notice or didn’t say anything about the tiny gash on the corner.  It was an easy exchange.  Now, I have a brand new camera.  Let’s hope I’ve learned my lesson!

10.7 miles run today (17.22 km) / 17 days Streaking into the New Year:

Still Streaking

I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up – that is, Streaking into the New Year.  Yesterday, between chores, appointments and work, I managed to fit in a three mile trail run during the middle of a heat wave.  I found some enjoyment in the run.  Bullfrogs croaked.  Skies were blue.  And I ran a shady Wood Creek Trail where I stood no more than five feet from a doe, behind me a running creek.  Lovely.

Today, I felt better about putting in a run, though the morning began roughly (kids!).  I think as soon as my feet hit the dirt this morning’s harshness melted away.  HOWEVER, my right calve was extremely tight.  I stopped twice within the first mile to stretch it out.  After that, it felt better.  Besides the tight calve, after sixteen consecutive days of running, my boobs ache.  I realize that’s a bit too much information.  But I like to be frank about my great enjoyment of the trails as well as the woes of running.  They have after all, been bouncing around for 16 days now!

With limited time, I took to the local coastal hills, Aliso/Wood Canyons and headed up Meadows trail.  It isn’t Mentally Sensitive, but Meadows is a dang good climb.  Though it’s longer, it is much easier mentally for me, being a switchback trail.  Love those switchbacks!  I almost passed the biker up ahead of me, but when he stopped to rest, I saw that he turned to see me gaining on him.  At that point, he hurried on up the hillside.  Several other mountain bikers whizzed down Meadows as well, which surprised me for a weekday.  I rarely see anyone on this trail during the week.

I felt wonderful after today’s run.  Then I was off again, running errands, grocery shopping, washing dishes, doing laundry and finally getting ready for work.  Today was my long day – I got home way past my bed time.

Making this entry “shortish” to cut to the pictures . . .

View looking back while RUNNING up Meadows:

At top of Meadows headed to Top of the World:

Look at how many mountain bikers are at Top of the World on a Wednesday morning!!

Breakfast time at Top of the World:

Car Wreck Trail:

Miles run today:  9.40 (15.13 km)

Elevation Profile:

14th Day of Streaking into the New Year

On the 14th day of my running streak I wasn’t sure where I would run, nor how far I would run.  I simply knew that I would run.

I woke earlier than expected with a little boy at my side kicking me out of my bed.  Baby had a bad dream and wanted to cuddle with Daddy.  My feelings weren’t hurt.  Boys need to cuddle with their dads, and there comes a certain age when that just isn’t going to happen.  I wanted to know what he dreamt about though.  But unfortunately, he couldn’t remember, else he just didn’t want to tell.  So I decided at 5AM, what the heck.  Just get up!  And that’s what I did, with my running shoes in hand.

As I dressed for a run on a cold, federally-observed-holiday morning, I still wasn’t sure on the location or distance I’d run.  I had plenty of options in mind.  I fed our dog, drank two cups of coffee.  I carried along a 1/4 filled jug of carrot juice and stepped onto the front porch with the fog horn blowing.  Right away I noticed  four Raider’s glasses carefully arranged on the top step.  Just so happens, the Raiders is my husband’s favorite football team, and he was watching their game the night before.  But I didn’t know whether the Raiders or the Chargers won.  So, I didn’t know if the Raider’s glasses were a dig or a congratulations (turns out the Raiders lost – and the glasses a mystery).

I arrived to Aliso/Wood Canyons park a little before 7:00 AM, and I do believe it was close to freezing.  The parking lot was crowded as well as the church lot across the street.  But there were plenty of spots along the rode where the curb was mischievously painted red years ago.  Knowing this, I park along the rode all the time, with no tickets.  The fact that the road had plenty of parking spots told me that the park was crowded with lots of people who don’t frequent it enough to know the red curb is bogus. 

I took off on an empty, yet cold, cold, cold,  Aliso Creek Trail and after 1.5 miles took a left onto Wood Canyon.  From there I gleefully, yup, truly gleefully turned onto Meadows Trail.  Why do I say, “gleefully?”  Well, heck, because I knew I was headed toward the hardest trail in the park, Mentally Sensitive, aka,  “Psycho-Path.” 

Running onto Meadows Trail:

A deceiving beginning to “Mentally Sensitive” Trail:

I like to run Mentally Sensitive because of its mood modifying qualities.  The trail is so dang steep that I need great strength just to NOT slip backward in a couple spots.  In order to conquer that hill, I have to make sure nothing at all, except conquering that hill, enters my mind.  Then almost miraculously, before I’m even finished (about halfway) any kind of sadness, or anger, or worry that I carried along with me, vanishes.

Poof.

Like magic!

A quick swing-time break at the Fountain of Youth:

After my swing break, I ran along the ridge with an awe-inspiring view of Saddleback Mountains.  I witnessed a large group of people off in the distance huddled in what looked like a prayer session.  As I ran a single-track on my way to Top of the World, I saw a woman sitting on a boulder with a man on his knees weeping in her lap.  I tried not to look that way because I didn’t want to invade their privacy.  At the same time, I couldn’t help wonder about the man’s tragedy (though there are many reasons people cry, and hopefully his was not over some tragedy).

View of Saddleback Mountains as I ran along ridge after conquering Mentally Sensitive:

Breakfast at Top of the World:

At each mile, it seemed I peeled off a layer.  First came the knit cap.  Then I stuffed my gloves into my pack.  Of course that meant the cap came out and the sunglasses came on.  Next I took off my long sleeves.  Finally, I was running care free, happy, yes, HAPPY, if I may use that word, because it really isn’t the right word.   I can’t say enough about just “being”, that is, enjoying the beauty that surrounds you, the company, if there is any, that graces you.  The moment you are in wipes away all things.  Like magic.

And like magic, I ran into the park at Top of the World.  There I chatted with a young man who really wanted to know what I’ve seen on the trails and how to get to the good trails in Saddleback Mountains.  He was a young adventurous soul, but not confident enough to have made the ventures.

As I ran along the ridge, I noticed how dang crowded the park was.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so crowded.  Though I came upon very few runners, I saw lots of hikers and COUNTLESS mountain bikers. 

Running along Coyote run, overlooking Wood Canyon, the bikers are so steep, I needed to turn off and run up to another ridge, Nature Loop, because it was getting so difficult dodging the bikers:

Taking a moment to pose as I run down Nature Loop:

View of Wood Canyon from Nature Loop Trail:

Hikers coming up as I make my way down Nature Loop toward Mathis:

I didn’t plan on ten plus miles today.  I really didn’t plan on much anything.  I didn’t plan on witnessing three deer cross Wood Canyon Trail.  I didn’t plan on nearly missing my good friend, Blue Heron, on Meadows Trail.  I didn’t plan on a bee stinging my arm.  I simply planned on running.  And I would have kept on running if I didn’t need to get back home.  I kind of missed my family.  Though I love to run, it’s difficult when I leave the house before anyone awakens.  I don’t get to say, “Good Morning!”  My mother always cheerfully said “Good Morning,” to us kids, and that always irritated the hell out of me back then.  I would like to do the same for my children.

Miles run this morning:  12.83 (20.65 km):

First Run For 2012

I am not going to look back on 2011 like I usually do in the new year blog entry.  Though I really enjoy reading other blog entries that do this.  If I look back, I fear that I will turn into a pillar of salt.

I am also not going to look forward.  Nor am I going to make a New Year’s Resolution.  To make one would simply be stating exactly what I’m going to do for about a day . . . then quit.

Instead, I’m going to roll into the new year with a motto, “Do Better,” and I’m just going to keep on keeping in the moment.  That is not to say that I’m not going to plan or look to the future.  Nor is it to say that I will never look back.  It’s just that the moment is the easiest place to be for me.  And I like easy.  If you are a returning visitor you may think, “I’ve seen your elevation profiles – you don’t like easy!”  Believe me, I do.  I love EASY.  And those huge elevation profiles, they are what help get me back to easy.

Late this morning, I ran my first run in 2012 (my 13th consecutive day running).  And believe it or not, it was an easy run down to the beach, even though sweat ran like a running faucet.  That always happens on a recovery run.  I consider today’s run a “recovery” run. 

The day was warm and droves of people made their way down to the beaches.  This is what we do in coastal Southern California on New Year’s Day.  Sorry. 

I flew down the steps, actually jumping some onto the landings.  Really.  I realize it doesn’t look like I can do that, but I did.  I ran along the sand enjoying the surf as it pounded in.  I only saw one other runner.  But I saw lots of surfers and beach-goers this warm winter day of 2012.  Joyful.

The Strands, looking toward The Headlands:

I jumped onto the rock base of The Headland cliffs and spent some time with the sea creatures in the tide pools.  And I enjoyed the waves crashing upon the rocks.  I didn’t contemplate a thing.  I have MUCH on my mind, which is exactly why I didn’t contemplate a single thing.  I didn’t want to “go there.”  Instead I reveled in the the colors: greens, blues,  and browns.  With my back to the waves, I took some photos and then I was off, running along the dry sand to the steps back out of the beach. 

I ran The Headland Trails, which were crowded with walkers.  All the lookout points were taken.  However, I was able to get a few good shots in before heading out to the highway where I ran back home (without jay-walking, or rather jay-running).  The restaurants were more crowded than I’ve ever seen, with late breakfast-goers probably after a wild night of New Year’s Eve Parties.  The overall town seemed to be in a happy, yet somber mood.

Looking at a lone sail boat from The Headlands:

An odd pose on The Headlands (when I stood, the camera cut off my head):

View of the marina as I ran back to the highway:

4.75 miles run today. (7.64 km)