Calico Trail Run 2012

We arrived to Calico Ghost Town with cold, 50 mph winds.  They shut down the town because building pieces were blowing away.  When we opened the car doors, things began flying out into the desert.  That’s how we learned to only open one door at a time.  Though the town was closed, I was able check in.  After that we were quick to find the Bunk House keys and get the heck out of there to shelter.

Bib pick-up, downtown Calico:

Our lodgings:

A piece of the tin roof flapped in the wind all night.  And I think I woke every hour to check my phone for the time.  How much longer?  How much longer?  HOW MUCH LONGER?  I didn’t feel nervous, because I know this run.  And I felt ready.  I did however worry about being late.  I don’t like to be late to a race.  In fact, my “rule of thumb” is arrive one hour early.

By morning, the winds had died down.  With a 7AM start time, my husband, my middle son and my girlfriend’s son walked me the cold, cold, cold half mile to the start line.  Besides layering clothing,  I wore a leopard patterned scarf that I planned for my husband to take back to the cabin.  When I ran past my husband down the streets of Calico however, I grabbed the scarf out of his hands because I was so dang cold.  I really didn’t care if I was the only person running wearing a leopard patterned scarf. 

Less than two minutes to start:

We’re off!

And so we headed down a lonely asphalt road, away from the rising sun.  My friend Tom Bychowski popped up behind me.  We chatted for a bit, and he was off ahead of me on his way to to complete the 50k.

My goal was to make the first aid station in 1.5 hours.  I didn’t think about the race as a whole.  Instead, as usual, I  broke it down into segments.  Those first seven miles were on an incline, not terribly steep at all.  BUT, we ran in sand.  Dry, loose sand.  That’s tough.  Many runners passed me during those first seven miles.  Most disheartening were the white bibs going by.  30k runners wore white bibs.  50k runners wore yellow.  I usually aimed on passing the runner directly in front of me, no matter their bib color.  And I succeeded at passing at least three women and a couple of men.  Then I saw runners from the 2011 Saddleback Marathon.  It’s always great seeing people you spent some time with during a long, hard race – they seem like old friends. 

I ran on into that first aid station with an hour and a half time elapsed.  I  pocketed a handful of jelly beans, grabbed some potato chips and took off running toward the mountains without even realizing that two of the women I had passed were up a ways ahead of me already!

Taking off on asphalt:

“Old Friends” from Saddleback:

With the first segment complete, I aimed at making Station #2 within an hour.  The terrain gradually grew harder as we made our way up into the mountains.  Again it was a gradual climb, and I passed a few runners.  Overall, I didn’t feel I was gaining much advantage. 

And then the terrain changed even more, growing more technical, slanted and rocky.  At this point I was able to quickly pass three runners within eye-sight.  And then two more a bit after that.  My confidence grew.  I noticed tight shoulders on some of the runners (shoulders up near the ears) as they gingerly made their way across the rocky and at times steep terrain.  These runners I think just weren’t used to the “technical” trail.  But with my recent boulder hopping runs and mountain terrain, the race now was “right up my alley.”

I made Station #2 in a little longer than planned – 1 hour ten minutes total.  So, at a little over 12 miles into this race I was at about 3 hours 10 minutes.  And the best thing was when I came into that second station, about 8 runners were re-fueling.  I grabbed another handful of jellybeans and guzzled a big swig of Dr. Pepper and took off before any of them.  

Soon after Station #2, the terrain became even more difficult and I passed more runners.  I jumped from rock to rock.  I did not have to sit and slide, as had been my method in the past, and as I witnessed others this year.  A natural high overcame me, and it seemed I grew stronger.  But I was careful not to get “cocky”.  That’s exactly when I’d do a face-plant.  Instead, I fine-tuned my focus and hit those rocks like I owned them.

As I approached “Ernies 50/30k split” I had to stop and get a picture of us together.  For three years I ran past him with a smile, but not as much of a word.  This year I introduced myself and said, “Ernie, I presume?” 

Making our way to the most difficult terrain.  It took me a LONG time to pass this runner:

Aid Station #2 entertainment:

The fun stuff!!

Me and Ernie:

Knowing exactly where I was at all times gave me a great advantage in the mental battle.  As I ran one of the steepest climbs in the race, I knew that I would get a nice long easy down hill stretch to Station #3 which was hidden by rocks.  Runners their first time in this race wouldn’t know about this hidden station.  And let me tell you, FOR ME, knowing it was there made me run even faster!

Climbing up a winding incline:

For a colorful view of the desert:

When I made Station #3, I took another swig of Dr. Pepper, thanked the workers and was off for the most technical terrain of the race.  I had to “watch it” here.  I had already tripped twice (but had not fallen), and I didn’t want to mess up my time now.  It looked like I was going to make it to the finish well before 5 hours (my usual finish time), but I didn’t have time to spare for any kind of slowdown.  There was not a runner in sight behind or ahead of me.  I was happy that I had passed quite a few runners.  And I wanted to keep it that way.  So, I used my best focusing skills and really “hauled ***” through the most difficult 4 miles of this race.  I’m surprised these pictures came out focused, as I didn’t even stop running when I snapped them: 

Then out there in these beautiful canyons, I saw another runner.  She was obviously a much faster runner than me.  I hadn’t seen her the entire race.  Thing was, she slowly and carefully made her way across the boulders and rocks.  That’s when I knew it was time for another pass.  I said “Good Morning,” but she looked and sounded like I have so many times through these canyons – like, “When will this end???” 

I loved it though.  With practice, I have learned to love it.  Most runners have a great advantage over me on fire roads or asphalt.  But put me in this stuff, and I pass a few.    I was really having fun jumping from boulder to boulder, planning my steps out ten or so in advance. 

And then I made it to the lovely pink canyons, where the terrain grows friendly, and locals say you can hear God whisper.  At this point, I knew I was almost out of the canyons, which meant I was nearly Finish Line bound!  I felt confident.  I felt happy.  I felt strong.  I have never felt like this during this point in The Calico Trail Run.

Finish Line Bound:

Two sons wait for me to cross Finish Line:

My oldest & middle son and nephew were waiting at the top of the town and ran along side me through town.  As I made my way across the finish line, my mother, father, sister, youngest brother, my girlfriend, her children and my husband and youngest son were cheering me on.  I felt glorious!  Dirty, stinky, salty glorious. 

And as in every year that I’ve run this race, when the finish line worker went to tear off my bib tag, I shook her hand.  Then I cracked up.  I always think they’re trying to shake my hand when they go for the tag.  She laughed too and thanked me for shaking her hand.  LOL. 

9 seconds after crossing Finish Line:

Tom Bychowski crossing finish line after running 50k:

Me and running friend Tom:

To my utter amazement, I actually placed 3rd in my division:  Females age 40-49.  And yes there were more than 3 in my division.  I wasn’t even thinking about placing in my division when I started off.  I just wanted to beat my previous times.  And that I did (stats below). 

My Award:

Elevation Profile:

2112, I placed 43 overall, out of 74 finishers (I believe 80 starters?) and as mentioned  above (and probably for the rest of my life) 3rd in my division.

My 30k Calico Trail Run times:

2112: 4:30:08

2111: 5:03:52

2010: 5:01:00

2009: 4:54:41

Thanks for reading!  What a happy way to begin the 2012 racing year.

The Countdown Begins

Today was the thirty-second consecutive day of running as I approach one of my favorite races of the year . . . the race that started it all.  The race that turned me into a trail runner: Calico Ghost Town Trail Run.

The nightmares have not begun – nightmares about being unable to find the start line, or running in sandals, one shoe, or even naked.  I feel alright about the approaching challenge.  Actually, I’m not thinking about it much at all.  I’m too busy packing for this weekend trip.   I am however beginning to feel little aches and pains.  I’ve foam rolled at least 3 times already tonight, not to mention nervously done clams and bridges on my living room floor. 

The only reason I ever hit the trails was so that I could train for Calico.  Sunday will be the fourth consecutive year that I’ve run it.  Sunday will be the third year that I’ve brought my husband and our boys along.  Sunday will be the first race that my girlfriend and her children will join us the night before for some cabin-like “camping”, and the first race that my mother, father, sister and youngest brother will attend.  Calico is the race of firsts.

Of course, I will come in nowhere near first place.  And I doubt my wisdom in running the day up to this race.  Originally,  I “semi” planned to run a only a mile each day from Wednesday onward.  Instead today, I hit the trails with my friend Michael for a nice (yet challenging) out-and-back to Top of the World in Laguna Beach. 

And I over-dressed again.  With the heater on in the car the entire trip, I wore long sleeves.  Those sleeves came off at the top of the first climb.  They would have come off a lot quicker if I hadn’t been working so hard to kind of keep up with Michael, who runs those climbs amazingly. 

A Beautiful Day for Running / A Beautiful Day at Top of the World:

Heading Back on this Out-And-Back:

5.93 hard miles run today (9.54 km):

Milestone!

I woke January 17 with the idea of ending my running streak.  I was wiped-out physically and emotionally.  I seriously didn’t see how I could manage even one mile!  But with encouragement from running friends, I decided to run the 29th consecutive day.  I ran it a little grudgingly.   First I did some weight training, some floor exercises and ab work, then with an errand to run in town, I ran to it, did my errand.  Then I simply ran back, making a loop (because I’m a loopy gal) totaling 2.44 miles. 

This morning, I felt renewed.  Yet, I needed the trails to wipe my brain clean of its clutter, useless clutter.  And so after making breakfasts, packing lunches, then getting the boys off to school in two shifts (different start times), I finally hit the trails at Aliso/Wood Canyons park. 

I took off on Aliso Creek Trail during a chilly winter morning (for coastal Southern California) dressed for the cold.  In fact, I feared that I would regret leaving my gloves behind.  Believe me – that, I did not regret.  I warmed up really quickly.  To top it off, I felt strong.  Surprisingly strong on my 30th day of Streaking into the New Year.  I never would have thought.

I didn’t have much time today, so I wasn’t sure which loop I’d run this morning.  But I was pretty sure I’d run Mentally Sensitive.  Mentally Sensitive is the best trail in the local coastal hills to wipe the slate (brain) clean.  Another great thing about this trail is that I need to run some of Meadows to get there.  And Meadows is one of my favorite local trails.  As is evident by the multitude of pictures I take exactly at this spot:

Meadows’s Subtle, Yet Grand Entrance:

I turned onto Mentally Sensitive with my old friend Blue Heron in sight.  Besides my bird friend, I saw only one other living thing as I ran along Mentally Sensitive, one cyclist, who I hopped into the grass for so that he could pass (even with my deep loathing for tics). 

Mentally Sensitive will probably never be easy.  But I will write this:  IT IS SHORT.  And its views are lovely.  They are more than lovely.  They are majestic.

Running Mentally Sensitive’s Start:

My Feathered friend – do you think he recognizes me?

The Climb is Brutal on Mentally Sensitive:

Yes indeedy, any excuse to pause briefly to snap a photo on this trail (notice the lack of a wide smile here – regardless, I WAS HAPPY):

I reached the top of Mentally Sensitive at about mile four with plenty of energy.  I figured I had enough time for a little detour.  So, instead of turning right toward Top of the World, I turned left and ran into the soccer field above Laguna Beach.  From there, I headed to the “fountain of youth” for a swing break.  I don’t care anymore if people see me – a woman just weeks away from 47 swinging away on the playground.  Playing on the swing set really helped wipe that slate clean.  I didn’t stay too long though, as I wanted to run.  And so run I did.  Off from the swings, I took off for Top of the World.

Swing Break:

Breakfast at Top of the World:

With time fleeting, I ran down Mathis this morning.  It’s a fun trail – a truck-trail of sorts, lots of room, little technicality.  I focused on taking it quickly (without falling).  And I of  course, focused on form.  I felt content, relieved, revived.

So, so happy that I didn’t end my streak yesterday, especially after this morning’s fantastic trail run.  Now it’s take it easy time, though I do plan on taking this streak up to my race.  We’ll see how that works for me.  LOL. 

Running down Mathis:

Miles run this morning on my 30th consecutive day of running: 11 (17.7 km):

Day 28

Early into this whole thing, I intended to end my running streak yesterday.  I have a favorite race coming up and I feared (and still do somewhat) to run up until race day.  I have never run up to race day.  In fact, I have never, to my recollection, run the day BEFORE race day. 

Running-wise however, things seem to be going swimmingly, in fact, I seem to be gaining strength.  Therefore, I decided to run the 28th day of my running streak.  Actually, I NEEDED to run today.  My mood was less than perky, actually it was in the pits. 

I set out the door this chilly afternoon for a quick out-and-back.  And I ran up three flights of these stairs (below)  to cross the pedestrian bridge, and three flights down to take me into the state beach where the traffic speed limit is 15 mph.  The steps’ lower landings were puddled with urine, sadly.  But there were no pot-smokers taking refuge in the stairways today.  I ran past one homeless man who turned away at my glance.  Other than him, my trip to the beach was stranger-less.

A sign that the tourists, on the whole, have left our seaside town:

I felt strong.  I felt free from worries.  My feet moved with ease across the asphalt.  I ran through the campgrounds (twice, there and back) and ran through the state beach to Capo, until the sidewalk ended.  The sidewalk does actually end, and I named it that (Where the Sidewalk Ends) in honor of Shel Silverstein, the children’s poet. 

After my out-and-back to where the sidewalk ends, I decided to extend my run a bit and cut into Doheny Beach to run the boardwalk.  From there I ran out to the jetty, then ran up a climb, where not that long ago I needed to rest frequently while walking (before I began running regularly).

Today’s run, was not exactly an out-and-back as planned.  It was the opposite of a lollipop.  An upside-down lollipop.  I suppose it was a noose.  In fact, this was a regular run I used to do before I became a trail runner.  And it was oh so difficult, though beautiful and satisfying back then.  After becoming a trail runner, I began to loathe the road.  But getting out there on the road recently convinces me, that I need these road runs once in a while.  Trail runs make them seem so “easy”.  More importantly, I love the nostalgia, the nostalgia of this used to be my “long run.”

Running along the parking lot, headed toward Capo Beach (where the sidewalk ends):

My camera does nowhere near the justice of the scene above me as I ran back – thousands of seagulls swirled high above, making me feel that everything was going to be okay:

Miles run today:  6.57 (10.57 km)

I dedicate this run to dear friends involved in a horrific car accident a few days ago.  My family thanks God they survived (though I’m not saying God had something to do with their survival – I still lack faith in God’s actual involvement in our lives, though at times, like this accident, it seems like God has a direct hands-on involvement).  Prayers go out the the big-rigger driver’s family whose father/son/uncle/nephew/grandfather(?) did not survive the accident.