Candy Store Run

My last run was last Sunday.  I recovered Monday.  Then my mood dipped pretty low.  I felt I needed to get my disordered life in order, so I spent much of my time organizing and cleaning and applying for more job positions. Hubby begged, “Please, go out and run!!!”  He didn’t say that because he wanted me out of the house.  The house was much cleaner after all – carpets vacuumed, floors swept, bills organized.  He just knows me.  He knows that runs would have lifted my spirits.  But it was gray and wet all week.  And that just made me more depressed.

In the interim, I did work on physical strength.  I did weight lifting, core work and general strength exercises nearly every day.  Then Saturday, I ran with my two youngest sons in the Kids Run The O.C. program.  I wore my New Balance Minimus trail shoes, which I can’t wear on the trail at all – they just aren’t substantial enough for technical terrain.  Anyway, even though the kids run was only one mile, I felt really good getting my legs moving.  The shoes were awesome, extremely comfy on the pavement.  It was all over too soon, and I couldn’t wait for today’s scheduled group run.

As many as 8 runners may have shown at 6:30 AM up in the local mountains.  Turns out, just two showed – me and my running friend, Michael P.

We started off on “The Candy Store” run on a cool morning, across the street from the candy store on Ortega Highway.  Right away I took us on a wrong turn, and we had to run back to the trail to continue onward.  Then once we got going on the correct, lush shady trail, I noticed that we were making a loop back to the parking lot.  I missed the turn off to Chiquita Trail!!  Missing the turn off added at least a quarter mile of technical uphill running (& back totaling 1/2 mile).

Back on track, running Chiquita Trail:

I found the trip up Chiquita delightful and wondered why it tore me apart so badly during the SJT 50k.  Of course, I had about twenty miles on my legs before making that trip!

The trail was empty on the out portion today.  We saw one hiker with hiking sticks making his way down.  He said this was, “The one trail that’s uphill on the way out and the way back.”  Seems so true.  But in reality it’s not.  Michael said that it’s like an Escher drawing. 

This time around, I was sure to search out Chiquita Falls, which I have failed to discover on my prior out-and-backs on this trail.  I found much less than I expected.  The falls were dry.

Chiquita Falls: 

And then we ran more Chiquita trail, now mostly in the shade.  It was lovely, lush and green.  And most of that green in the undergrowth?  POISON OAK.  I brushed against it again and again.  Here’s to hoping my apparent immunity to the plant is still intact. 

Arriving to the Chiquita trailhead, we had a choice to make.  1) Turnaround and run back, or 2) run a loop up San Juan Trail into Blue Jay Campground and back to Chiquita for the return trip.  We chose more mileage.  But first, Michael was attacked by fire ants as we tried to set up our cameras for “group” photos.  Ouch!

San Juan Trail, all ridiculously uphill and seemingly never ending was hot as well.  Mountain bikers made their way down the single track as I focused on not tripping over the rocky terrain.  At each turn I thought we were at the trailhead, only to find – No!  There was more to run in this heat.  Finally, we could see campgrounds and we simply ran right through the hillside into the campground, cutting off approximately a half mile from this run.

Mushrooms on San Juan Trail: 

Blue Jay Campground seemed like a a 5 Star hotel to me.  A cool breeze blew.  There were trash cans to empty my pockets.  There were outhouses.  There were people.  And there was even running water. 

Well, the “down hill” trip back was not all down hill.  And when it was downhill, it was usually rocky and difficult to traverse.  On our way back to Chiquita, we came to the 4-way fork that I asked Michael to mark on our way in, because I lose my sense of direction there and have twice taken a wrong turn in the past.  Sure enough, I had no sense of direction when we arrived to the markers.  Had Michael not marked it, I would have surely chosen a wrong turn.  Funny.  Even with the markers, I began to run down the wrong trail!!

It was hot and I was growing extremely tired.  I wasn’t the only one.  Two mountain bikers (male & female) were sitting in the shade on the rocky trail, looking utterly fatigued.  They complained that they were “so hot,” and asked were they could find water.  They each had two bottles of water – one of them empty, the other with some water remaining.  When Michael pointed out the quickest way into Blue Jay, they took one look at that giant hill we had just run down and said, “No way, we’re not going up there for water.” 

It’s good the two were sitting in shade.  But they still had the trip to make back to the candy store.  I urged them to make the hike into Blue Jay.  “Just leave your bikes here,” I suggested.  They didn’t look like they’d be able to make the 8 plus miles back to the parking lot with the little water they had.  I hope the two rested a good long while and took our advice and hiked into Blue Jay.  We didn’t come across them again.

And we were off on the long, long HOT trip “down” Chiquita Trail with Michael taking the lead.  After a few miles, I suddenly came upon Michael standing on the single-track facing two hikers.  “We’ve got a rattler here,”’ he said.  I could hear its rattles from several feet away.  “Do you think I can get a picture?”  I asked and everyone laughed.  Turns out, I couldn’t get a picture.  And I was a little bummed about that.   

I really don’t fear rattlesnakes.  That’s not to say I don’t fear being stricken by one.  The best thing that can happen with a rattler is that you see it from a safe distance.  And we were at a safe distance.  As I moved in closer to see it coiled up in the brush, the two hikers nervously backed away.  I asked Michael if he could tell how big it was.  He said he thought it was about four feet long.  Well, I gave it an extra couple feet just in case, which means it’s striking distance would be about 3 feet or a little more.  The trail was about three feet wide, so I hiked up onto the bank on the opposite side of the trail as the frightened snake rattled away.  Now, not only would the rattlesnake have to strike more than three feet – he would have to strike me up hill!  (They can supposedly strike further down hill).  The two hikers looked at me like I was absolutely crazy.  Michael followed right behind me to pass the danger.  When I told the hikers that a rattler can only strike a little more than half it’s size, they too hiked up on the bank.  They looked back at us nervously.  “Just give them their space and you’ll be fine.” 

And then Michael and I continued to run – run in the heat and on the rocky, miserable terrain.  I was so dang tired, it would have felt good to walk the entire remaining miles, but with about three miles remaining, I wanted to get back ASAP.  My fluids were gone.

The “down hill” back to The Candy Store:

The last three miles were excruciatingly difficult.  We hiked some, we trotted some, we ran some.  Michael got out ahead often, but I could see him stop and look back.  It really was wonderfully miserable.  And when I thought I could no longer take it,  I looked around me to take in the beauty.  I dreamt of the ice-cold Gatorade in my truck.  And I refused to look at my garmin..  I also concentrated breathing through the nose, which worked very well since I ran so slowly.  It also helped to calm me down.  I tend to get a little anxious when the run gets super tough. 

The Beauty that surrounded us:   

The last mile was truly hellish for me.  No fluids and extreme heat, not to mention uphill terrain, was not a good mix.  But as Michael said, “One foot in front of the other, eventually we’ll make it.”  I think he was a little worried about my directions, especially since it TOOK SO LONG to catch even a glimpse of the parking lot. 

What a beautiful sight it was to see signs of the parking lot.  I actually hollared, “Woo-Whoo!” when my feet hit that pavement.

Finished (& a bit fatigued): 

Elevation Profile (19.11 miles):

And of course, the satellite (notice the wrong turn in the beginning, where the loop almost closes – LOL):

What was I thinking?

I came up with an approximate 25 mile route running up to Santiago Peak to train for two upcoming quests.  One of those goals, I have written about – my Tides to Towers run where I will run from my house down to the beach and from there to Santiago Peak, totaling 29 miles. My other goal, I don’t recall writing about, but I will attempt my first 50 mile race (Twin Peaks) which will go to Santiago Peak TWICE. 

Saturday morning, after a late night, I somehow managed to crawl out of bed early, pack and drive to the mountains (Trabuco Canyon).  I decided to go off road and drive closer to the trail head, making for a run with 9 less miles than planned.  I felt extremely tired and as I drove, I suddenly decided, Saturday wasn’t a good day for me to run.  So, I spontaneously turned the truck around, drove back home and crawled into bed.

Saturday night I bedded down at 9:30 for a 5 AM wake up call.  It still took me longer to get out of the house than I planned.  It didn’t matter.  I was off – back to Trabuco Canyon for a long run to the peak.

Standing outside my truck, pointing to Santiago Peak (which you can’t see because of the clouds):

So, how do I run a route like this?  Mentally that is – because if I can’t do it mentally, then I can’t do it physically.  I break it down into sections.  This way I only need to work on / run one segment at a time.  The weight of the entire route does not weigh down on my mind. 

Section 1:  Trabuco Canyon Road.  It’s a little less than five miles with only a slight uphill grade.  Usually I drive Trabuco Canyon Road to the Holy Jim parking lot.  Today was the first time I ever ran Trabuco Canyon Road.  The first two miles are gravel (boring!).  But there’s lots of creek crossings and a gorgeous, shady 3 miles of up and down dirt to run. 

I also got a peek at quite a few great fishing spots – nice deep pools with large boulders to hang out on.  I saw only one person fishing in the early morning (actually two, a man and his young son).  I stopped to talk to him and learned that Trabuco Creek is stocked with rainbow trout.  The fisherman recognized me from his drive into the canyon.  He said, “You’re making pretty good time little lady.” 

That’s right “LITTLE lady.”  LITTLE.  I have never been little.  I’m not talking about leanness or fatness – I’m talking about the fact that I’ve always had big feet, big hands, large wrists, wide hips, etc.  The term “little” made me giggle inside.  But I digress.  I told the fisherman where I was headed, and he hollered out as I ran off, “Make us proud!”

I didn’t feel that I was making good time on the first segment, mainly because I gingerly crossed the creeks to keep my feet dry.  That effort ended up being moot, as at one of the crossings, my right foot slipped off a rock, landing directly in the cold water.

Scenes from Section 1:

Section 2: Holy Jim Trail.  This segment from the Holy Jim Parking lot, up Holy Jim to the Main Divide totaled 5 miles.  I thoroughly enjoyed this portion.  The trail was full of wildflowers and also several groups of hikers that I had the pleasure of passing. 

With about a half mile remaining of this huge switchback the gnats came in for full attack – not huge gnats like last summer.  I think these were babies. But the gnats were still a nuisance, especially because my energy was running low.  After swallowing the first gnat, I decided it was time to work on something I’ve been thinking about trying – nose breathing.  I breathe through my nose, when I sleep, in everything I do I breath through my nose, except for running and weight lifting (& swimming).  With running and weight lifting, I breath through my mouth.  An ex-marine recently told me that when he was desert and mountain trained, the marines had them wear mouth pieces so that they had to breathe through their noses.  He said that nose breathing is much more effective than mouth breathing, and that I should give it a try with my running.  I gave it a try on Holy Jim and noticed an IMMEDIATE difference.  My energy returned.  I felt like I was getting a much fuller dose of oxygen.  Not only that, I didn’t swallow any more gnats.  And when I did occasionally breathe in a gnat through my nose, it came right out with my exhale.  No more choking while trying to spit out gnats.

Scenes from Section 2:

Figs:

Section 3:  The Main Divide.  This section was a steep grade, totaling only 3 miles and ending at Santiago Peak.  This section was so dang tough, and with the heat suddenly attacking, I couldn’t think of this as one segment after all.  Yet, with only three miles, I didn’t want to split it into two separate segments (yes, I’m funny that way).  So, (in order to play tricks on my mind), I had a section 3 part 1 and section 3 part 2.  LOL.

I passed several more hikers on the final thrust to the top.  Some of them sat and rested in the shade.  Others found cool spots to eat their lunches.  I continued on with my nose breathing, and the gnats continued on with their attack.  Nose breathing didn’t help one bit for those gnats that landed on my face and crawled up behind my sunglasses. 

These three miles were grueling.  Yet, when I finally made it to the top, I was suddenly full of energy.  I passed another set of hikers who said to me, “We saw you running from the main lot when we drove in.  What did you do – run up???” 

“Yes.” 

They all laughed.

Scenes from Section 3:

Beginning section 3 part 2:

The run down was tough.  But it was not terribly grueling until I ran out of fluids about a mile down Holy Jim.  I really couldn’t eat any more calories, yet my energy was waning.  I did stop for quite some time at a tiny spring in the mountain wall.  There I used my coconut water container to refill my hydration pack.  That took a good ten minutes.  I took the time to take out a handkerchief and soak my head. 

The remaining run down Holy Jim was delightful, though I tripped about three times.  I was fully equipped with cold water and I felt good about the remaining miles.  When the handkerchief on my head dried out, I stopped at a creek crossing to drench it again.

I reached the bottom of Holy Jim feeling good.  But the next five miles were absolutely awful.  The road was crowded with cars.  And I was TIRED.  It grew worse from there.  Once I hit the gravel I lost my shade.  Those final miles passed EXTREMELY slowly.  I kept focusing on my garmin, which is not good.  I didn’t stay in the present moment one bit.  Instead, I was in the future – the future as in, WHEN IS THIS GOING TO END???   

Scenes from trip back:

26 miles run today, +6,450’

Race Against The Rain

With reports of rain and more rain to come, I rushed off to some trails this morning after getting our boys off to school.  Let me tell you!  I needed this after taking a ton of verbal abuse from our oldest boy.  I wasn’t going to engage though – I laughed and laughed which only made his anger and disrespectful manner worse. I think that I need a better approach.

The skies were gray and cold at Aliso/Wood Canyons as I headed up Aliso Canyon for the toughest trail in the park:  Mentally Sensitive (AKA Psycho Path). I knew I was going to run some kind of “big loop” around the park, probably 12 to 13 miles.  I should point out, because I think it’s so important with running, that I never, EVER think about the end of the run.  Never does such a thought as “Only 8 more miles to go,” run through my head.  Instead, I just try and “BE.”  Simply “BE” where I am, experience the mile I’m in.  This way, I don’t have to stress over the difficulty that faces me.  Instead I get to enjoy where I’m running.   

On the way to Mentally Sensitive, I spotted a bobcat meandering along the paved trail that runs up the canyon.  Too far for a picture, I ventured into tickville (the area of tall grass where ticks are sure to latch onto flesh passing by).  I didn’t want to full-out run through the pasture for a better picture of the wildcat, as I was certain that would scare him away.  Therefore, I slowly stepped through the grass (allowing more time for ticks to cling on).  I didn’t get 15 steps in when the cat darted off into the brush.  Though I didn’t get a good picture, my eyes did behold  the beauty of the beast.  Imagine a cat the size of a medium size dog.  This one was striped with dark and light brown fur.  

Running up Mentally Sensitive was a glorious chore.  Rain began to fall about a quarter of the way up when I was already sweating buckets.  I didn’t worry about the rain too much – the only thing I would really worry about is the rangers closing the park.  I figured since I was already running trails, I would get some kind of loop in. 

Loving Mental Sensitive:

I worked hard running up Mentally Sensitive.  And where it got ridiculously steep, I forced myself to stop running and power hike instead.  I need to learn to power hike better.  This habit that I have of forcing myself to “run” up even the steepest terrain isn’t doing much good at this point.  I believe it’s making me physically stronger, but it’s also training me to run slowly and not to hike quickly. 

When I reached the top of Mentally Sensitive, I phoned my husband to tell him my son’s punishment.  It came to me running up Psycho-Path that I needed five written paragraphs on “respect” from our boy.  Hubby liked the idea but suggested a re-write of the three pages of the black belt rules he had broken instead.  I agreed.  (Our son is second degree black belt, only a few months away from third degree – disrespecting anyone, especially your elders, is an egregious action for the black belt).

Scenes from Mentally Sensitive when the punishment popped into my head:

The sun came out in abundance as I ran along the ridge.  I thought to myself, “Some early heat training eh?  Bring it on!”  I stopped shortly at Top of the World, took a few photos, and ran off on a detour onto Park Avenue Nature Trail.  Utterly lost in my own world, I didn’t realize that I had ran into a swarm of bees making their way across the trail.  I looked up for no particular reason, and aghast at the literally thousands of bees, I wasn’t sure what to do.  First I ducked.  Then I stepped back.  Then I fumbled for my camera.  By the time I retrieved my camera, the bees were busily on their way across Laguna Canyon. 

Top of the World:

I felt good, happy as I made my way toward Cholla Trail.  When I arrived, I did not think “Five miles left!”  No way.  Instead, I thought, “I get to run DOWN Cholla – Yay!”  I won’t lie.  I did look at my garmin to make sure I had enough time to finish off the run, get some groceries and home in time to get ready for work.  I didn’t stress over my pace though.  Today’s run wasn’t  a training run.  It was a fun run.

Running down Cholla Trail:

View of Wood Canyon from Cholla:

As I ran into Wood Canyon the heat was sweltering.  A cool breeze came in once in a while.  But overall, the canyon seemed to trap in the heat.  It was oh so beautiful too.  And fun.  I finished off this run a bit tired, but I ran it ALL THE WAY IN, totaling 13.53 miles today (21.77 km)

Shade at last in Wood Canyon:

Tonight the rain pours down upon our rooftop.

ps.  no ticks.

Content

When I began writing my running blog on My Space about 5 years ago, I intended to blog EVERY TIME that I ran.  I blogged treadmill runs, I blogged one mile runs, I blogged mundane runs, triumphant runs, and failed runs.  I wondered whether I could keep up the creativity and have something interesting to write about every single run.  

There were times on this blog when I considered quitting running.  There were times when running was the ultimate highlight of my life.  I wrote about crying on the trail.  I wrote about laughing on the trail.   At times my trail running made my family very proud.  And at times, it made them quite angry because of the time it stole me away.  Many trail running partners have come and gone during these blogging years, and I remember all of those running friends fondly.  I blogged about running in extreme heat, in rain, in snow.  I even blogged about being rescued – actually more than once (once by rangers in Texas and another time by a stranger when I ran off the trail during a 50k, and more than once by my husband who either navigated on-line over the phone with me or drove to pick me up). 

Well!  I think the day has come when I don’t have much to say about my trail run.  I ran it in a usual place this morning, Aliso/Wood Canyons.  I ran a usual route, an out-and-back up Cholla trail to Top of the World.  I came across many hikers, many bikers, just two runners.  It was beautiful.  I was slow.  But I was content.   Most of all, I felt like after a week of recovery, I am ready to get back into the game! 

I’ve been running by these little critters all over the place at Aliso/Wood Canyons lately:

Running a single-track that shoots off of West Ridge and returns to West Ridge (a fun addition for more elevation):

While I snapped some photos, an elderly hiker offered to take my picture.  He was a tough guy taking on such a route (the West Ridge hike):

Top of the World facing Pacific Ocean/Laguna Beach:

Top of the World facing Saddleback Mountains:

Prickly Peak blossom on Cholla Trail:

Profile of a happy trail runner’s content run: