Triple Park Run

This morning I walked to the bus stop at 5:30 AM, beneath dark skies with pepper spray in hand.  The bus as usual pulled up ON THE DIME.  I don’t know how they manage that, arriving at the bus stop exactly on time.   Being Monday morning, the bus was much more crowded than I’m used to.  All the more people-watching for me!  It’s especially interesting on the public bus.   Loved it.   There were a few cooks/chefs being dropped in front of resort hotels, one of them held a skateboard in his arms.  There were what we call “bag ladies,” retired people, and others on their way to early morning jobs.  The bus driver even stopped once and strolled out to use a gas station bathroom. 

About 45 minutes after boarding, I pulled the cord for my stop: Crystal Cove State Park.  My goal:  to run through three parks, Crystal Cove Park, Laguna Coast Wilderness, across Laguna Canyon and through Aliso/Wood Canyons Wilderness, and then onto the road for the last few miles to home.  

The trails were pretty empty on the north side of Laguna Canyon.  The weather was perfectly cool, the trails delightful.  The only big downside of today’s run was that as I finished up Aliso/Wood with a run down (yes down!! : ) Meadows Trail, an ache grabbed my left knee.  And with each step the pain increased.  Funny thing, when I stopped to walk, the pain disappeared.    Anyway, being that I was a little over 15 miles at the ranger station with a knee that didn’t want to run, and a runner (me) who didn’t want to make it worse for my race, I decided to call home for a ride. 

Felt good to get out for a run today, as I’ve taken time off from the run.  In addition to the knee however, I will report that I suffered again from the mental fatigue that I’ve been plagued with.  Regardless, beauty surrounded me throughout my 15.29 miles, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Scenes from The Run:

Running up No-Name Ridge (Crystal Cove):

Looking Back While Running No-Name:

Quick Pose on No-Name:

Looking Forward on No-Name:

Still More of No-Name to Conquer:

On Bommer Ridge On My Way To Willow Then Down Laurel Canyon:

Lovely Laurel Canyon:

Nearing Bottom Of Laurel Canyon, Where I Waited Ten Minutes For The Traffic To Clear Enough To Run Across The Highway:

Climbing Stairstep Trail Into Aliso/Wood Canyons:

Top Of The World (Once Again : )

Running Down Meadows:

What kind Of Garmin Runner Are You?

Lots of people run naked – that is without a garmin.  Some of my friends say that the garmin on their wrist takes the fun out of running.  They become too concerned with stats and don’t enjoy the scenery and the other joys of running. 

I feel differently.  For me, the garmin does not “tie me down.”  The garmin does just the opposite – it sets me free.  I can run anywhere I want to and the garmin knows pretty dang well how far I travelled and more importantly to me, how many feet I climbed.  (I don’t care much about pace unless I’m training, but I do enjoy keeping track of mileage and elevation since I am a long distance runner of pretty extreme trails – extreme for my locale anyway).  Before my garmin days, I would only run routes that I knew the mileage, or a route I could drive to measure the mileage.  Otherwise, I’d use GoogleEarth software to measure miles, which was a pain in the butt, especially on trails.  GoogleEarth looks from above, which makes measuring trails difficult because most of the time all I can see on the screen is tree tops (not trails).

For me, the garmin is a thumbs up!  And if you’ve ever been a spectator at a race, be it trail or road, what do you notice 99.9% of the runners do at the finish line?  They look down at their wrist and stop the garmin.  LOL.

So, I’m wondering this:  What kind of garmin wearer are you?

1.  Are you “The-one-who-forgets-to-start/stop-your-garmin?”  That’s me!! I don’t know how many times I’ve been into my run or race and noticed, yikes!  I didn’t start my garmin.  I’m the one asking, “What does your garmin read?”  That way I know how much to add to my ending mileage.  I’m also the one driving off, having forgotten to stop my garmin.  Of course, that screws up my pace big time.  But at the same time, it’s not too difficult to figure out the actual mileage I ran, judging by the dramatic pace increase on the graph.

2.  Are you “The-one-who-pauses-your-garmin-every-time-you-stop, say to get something out of your pack, or make a pit-stop?”  I don’t do this because they don’t stop the clock when I stop at the outhouse or duck behind a bush in races.  Even though I’m not this garmin user, #2 garmin users suffer from the same thing as #1 above (me).  I don’t know how many times my running friends have exclaimed, “Dang!  I forgot to restart my garmin.”  Like myself, they ask about the group, “What does your garmin read?”  And I have to laugh. 

3.  Or are you “The-one-who-sets-your-garmin-to-pause-every-time-you stop?”  If so, you probably know by now, this doesn’t work well.  Too often, the garmin does not restart when you begin running again.  I know very few garmin runners who still set their garmin this way.   Many have tried, few have succeeded. 

So, what kind of garmin wearer are you?  Or do you even wear a garmin?  And if so, what is the most important stat that it gives you? Mine are mileage and pretty obviously, elevation.  For me, besides discovering trails, the garmin was the best thing that has happened to my running. 

Putting My Fun Back Into My Run

I wasn’t really sure what “over-training” meant.  I thought it had to involve an injury of some sort, something like a repetitive injury, or at the very least extreme physical fatigue.  I’ll tell what I’ve learned training for my upcoming race – I have definitely over-trained.  But I am not injured and I am not extremely physically fatigued.  I have over-trained to the point of severe MENTAL fatigue. 

For a long time now, the mental battle with running extreme courses has always been the toughest for me.  And with  this recent training, I have become so mentally tired that my confidence plummeted, my negative self-talk reared it’s ugly head.  I also began overly fretting over this upcoming race.  (Wait, I’m more than overly fretting.  I’m freaking-out.)  I have had no desire to run since my Palm Sunday run, and as such, I haven’t.  That just isn’t me.  I did a some upper body work-outs (not much), some floor exercises (again not much).  I even packed for a run and never went.

Today, I pretty much just forced myself to the trails.  I told myself, “You’re no longer training.  YOU ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE FUN.  Play girl.  Go play!”

And that is just what I did.  The run didn’t start out fun.  It started out tiring, like my brain simply said, “No, no, no, not again!”  But when I stopped for a quick picture at my regular photo-op – Meadows Trail – I suddenly began to let loose.  I looked forward to running up Meadows for fun.  No repeats.  No trying to beat a clock.  Just for fun.  I’m not saying that the run up Meadows wasn’t difficult.  It was stress-free.  I actually stopped twice to look around and take in the beauty.

Meadows Trailhead:

Entering Meadows, A Deliciously Deceitful Trail:

A Quick Pose Before Steep Run To The Top:

Top of the World, The Prize:

Car Wreck Trail, How Do I Run Thee?  Carefully, But With A Smile:

The Wreck:

More Of Car Wreck Trail, A Hidden Gem Within The Park:

Hopping Onto Dripping Cave, An Old Friend:

Saying “Hello” To My Old Friend:

Leaving Dripping Cave:

After Hitting Dripping Cave, I Set Off For Cave Rock Trail:

I Love This Rock:

Elevation Profile Of Today’s Fun Run:

Satellite:

My Game Plan

I was never a runner.  Never had a running coach.  I ran in my youth and early adulthood (occasionally) because I wanted to be pin-thin.  That is amusing, because now, I put in 50+ miles a week, and I’m gaining weight.  And it’s NOT ALL MUSCLE.  It’s purely because I’m pretty much hungry all the time, and I don’t eat the right things.  Yes, I love spinach.  And yes, I can eat bags of broccoli.  But I also love cheese. 

Enough said.

So, I’m pretty much scared out of my mind, as you probably know about the upcoming 50k I’m registered for.  I don’t know what I was thinking when I registered.  I must have had a good run or race just beforehand.  When I ran this race last year (and came in third to last), I thought to myself, “been there, done that, no need to do that again.”

And then here I am stressing over the same race.  At least I know the trails.

Keep in mind that I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO TRAIN FOR AN ULTRA-MARATHON.  On the upside, I have met and run with wonderful ultra-marathoners who have much to offer and have given me great advice.

I thought it apropos today to publish my “game-plan” for the SJ50k (since it’s TWO weeks away – yikes!!!!!!)

1)  I’m not training anymore.  I’m just running for fun. That’s my “taper” which will inevitably result in less mileage.

2)  I am going to RUN MY OWN RACE.  This is very important to me – I’m not going to get pressured out about how fast other runners are at the start, I’m just going to run my pace and focus on remaining strong both mentally and physically THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE RACE – especially going up West Horsethief..

3)  I’m breaking this race into 2 portions – the first is referred to as “The Candy Store Run,” which totals about 19 miles.  It’s a tough run and has a cut-off of 5 hours.  You may think that 5 hours is no pressure.  But it is for me, because my goal is to make it well beneath that goal of 5 hours.  I’m hoping for 4 hours, because the next 12 miles is much more difficult than the first 19.

4)  I will top-off at EVERY water station.

5)  I will keep moving forward, which means NOT STOPPING AND JOKING AROUND AT AID STATIONS.  I can’t afford the time.  Forward, forward, forward – that is my motto.

6) Since we run past our cars at about mile 18, I will pack a drop bag, just in case.

7)  I will smile.

8)  I will laugh

9)  I will do my my best to not fall.

10)  And I will help other runners if they are unfortunate enough to need my help.

I have more to my race plan, which entails how I will tackle West Horsethief at mile 23!!   But these are minor details to those listed above.  Best thing is, I found my favorite shoe on close-out (meaning cheap) which I plan to run in until the race.  Hopefully it will do me good!

Thanks so much for all your encouragement. : )  You guys and gals have more confidence in me than I. 

Palm Sunday Run

I was fortunate enough to spend all of my morning and some of my afternoon running trails in the Saddleback Mountains this Palm Sunday. This week the ultra running world lost a legendary runner. I didn't know him, never met him, but today I dedicate this run to Micah True, whose body was found on New Mexico trails yesterday. R.I.P. Caballo Blanco.

I began my morning running up Holy Jim Trail which used to be a terrible trail.  It’s still the same trail.  But now, I can run all of it.  That’s a huge deal for me.  It’s no longer terrible.  It’s a beautiful joy.  Really!

A couple hikers kept their pace up ahead of me, amazingly fast.  They marched in such perfect unison, I had to ask, “Are you in the service?”  They (a young man and woman) told me that they were training for a Mount McKinley hike this summer.  No wonder they were wearing hiking boots, long pants and sleeves.  I would never go up Holy Jim in pants unless I was preparing for something warmer in the summer – even then, I’m not sure I would do it.

As customary, I broke my run into segments.  Just get through one segment at a time, that’s my motto.  Holy Jim was my first segment.  And though I took it running at a relaxed pace, I conquered it feeling good.

Creek crossing leading to Holy Jim trailhead:

Approaching final creek crossing going up Holy Jim:

Sun coming up over the other side Trabuco Canyon:

The Fastest Hikers in The World up ahead (notice towers from Santiago Peak on the skyline):

One of the many reasons I love Holy Jim:

I knew the trip up the Main Divide to Santiago Peak would be difficult.  Knowing makes a world of difference.  Knowing equals no stress.  The Fastest Hikers in the World took off toward Upper Holy Jim, so I was quite surprised as I neared the peak, I looked back and saw that I had passed them by a pretty good distance.  Several motorcyclists drove past me on their way to the top.  I wasn’t too annoyed that I had to step to the side and stop to let them pass. 

I could hear lots of noise as I approached the towers at Santiago Peak, humming machinery noise and something much louder.  It sounded like dozens of people hammering on metal.  This didn’t seem odd to me.  I merely figured that people were working at the towers this morning.

When I got there, no workers were in sight.  But the incessant hammering and clamoring grew louder.  Clang, clang, clang surrounded me as I focused in on my surroundings.  That’s when I saw it.  Dozens, if not hundreds of icicles were melting and slipping off of the towers.  They were as long as swords, plummeting probably 30/40 feet to the ground.  As these ice daggers fell, they crashed onto parts of the towers below, making that loud  clanging noise, finally hitting the ground in several pieces the size of icebox ice cubes. 

Well, I stood there for a while, wondering how I would get to the edge for a county view without getting hit by a falling chunk of ice.  After watching carefully (and in awe) I noticed that most of the ice fell within the parameters of the fences surrounding each of the towers.  So I put my hand on my head and ran.  I figured that it would be better if an ice chunk hit my hand than my head.   

I made it to the edge to talk to a couple of motorcyclists.  I wish I would have taken their pictures.  One of the gentlemen was so extremely happy to be there he lightened my mood immensely.  It was he who took my camera and snapped the geeky photo of me below. 

The Main Divide on the way to Santiago Peak:

Gorgeous views from The Main Divide:

The towers at Santiago Peak (AKA Talking Peak):

Geeked-out:

As I ran back to The Main Divide, I ran past the Fastest Hikers in the World who were sitting at the summit.  I ran up to them and we chatted a bit.  I told them about Joplin Trail and pointed it out in the distance.  They seemed excited to try it out.  I saw several hikers making their way up The Main Divide as I ran down it.  Motorcyclists also passed going up and down, as well as mountain bikers.  I spoke with one guy who I would later see a couple times much later in the run. 

Clouds completely covered the mountain as I ran down Upper Holy Jim Trail.  My views were simply pure white, misty skies.  At this point in the run, though physically I felt I could go on forever, my brain could not.  I began losing the mental battle.

Running down Upper Holy Jim:

This run was taking way too long and I thought along the way that I might cut it short a little by running down Horsethief instead of Trabuco.  As soon as I got cell service, I phoned my husband with how I may alter my route.  (He did not like that I was running the mountains alone, so I had written out my route before I left). 

As I mentioned earlier, my body felt strong.  My mind did not.  It felt bored.  It took in the majestic views, but my mind tired of putting one foot in front of the other, again and again, mainly uphill.  Over and over I thought West Horsethief was just around the corner, and if it was, I thought, “I can make it to the top of Trabuco no problem.”  But it wasn’t just around the corner!

Well!  By the time I FINALLY made West Horsethief, there was NO WAY I was running all the way to the Trabuco Trailhead.  Instead, I trotted down West Horsethief for a shortcut to Trabuco Trail.  I passed the cyclist I met by the peak.  He was walking his bike up.  I told him that he picked a tough trail to go up, to which he responded that he had a race in a week.  Funny, I have a race in two weeks – and by this time in my run, I thought I was going to be in BIG trouble come that race.

View from Main Divide of Orange County and The Pacific Ocean:

More than ready to descend upon Horsethief:

Trabuco trail was the longest run EVER today.  Beautiful yes.  Never-ending, also YES.  The high point was giving a hiker directions to West Horsethief.  I love giving trail directions to people.  Anyway, I ran and ran and ran.  I ran over rock, I ran across a couple creek crossings.  I ran on shady, soft lush trails, and then back upon boulders and rocks. 

I was so done.  My confidence dwindled regarding my ability to complete the SJ50k.  It’s not that my body tired, oddly, it didn’t.  This may be hard to understand, especially since I’m not sure how to explain it.  But it was as if my brain grew extremely tired.  Dead-Dog tired.