If Not Now, When?

I woke this morning at 5:00 AM with 18 miles on the training calendar.  I felt tired, had a headache.  And as I dressed for the run, I actually stopped, undressed and got back into my pj’s.  Then I looked around the living room for a blanket to cuddle up in on the couch.  But then I got to thinking.  When am I going to get this long run in this weekend?  I can’t do it later today.  That would take too much time away from family.  I can’t do it tomorrow – the day’s extremely full, not to mention, I’ve got 6 miles on tomorrow’s training calendar.  If I didn’t get my butt in gear, I was going to miss the chance for this weekend’s long run.  So, I bit the bullet, and was in my car driving to Modjeska Canyon at 5:45 in the morning.

Turns out, I’m so glad I made this run.  Sure the start was tough.  Who am I kidding?  The first nine miles is uphill – the first nine miles was tough.  It’s a glorious, wondrous tough.  “Hard fun.”  Plus, I have NEVER seen a more beautiful Harding Truck Trail than I witnessed this morning.  The mountains were green and covered in wild flowers.  And eventually, I was running above the clouds.  I also met up with a couple other runners I know on the trail – runners training for the upcoming Harding Hustle 15k/30k/50k.  (If you are local & like the pictures below, you might consider this trail race)

Scenes from the run I almost missed:

The 1st mile in, I’m not feeling the love.  BUT I did notice the beauty:

Entering the forest:

Making my way up above those clouds:

Glory:

Made it!  Above the clouds:

All the pretty colors:

These flowers stopped me in my tracks because they reminded me of my great-grandmother, Bessie Husk.  She wore pink costume pearls and had pink lacey things like doilies and pillow cases around her house:

A little reprieve before reaching “Four Corners.”

At last!  Approaching the end of Harding Truck Trail:

Northern/Eastward view from “Four Corners:”

Goofing around at “Four Corners:”

Heading back down:

Elevation Profile & Satellite:

After soaking in the bath at home, I lay down on my bed for a little rest when my father called with the sad news that his brother, my Uncle Bo, died suddenly today.  He was only 59.

Life is short.  Like I had to ask myself this morning, “If not now, when?”  So must I ask myself that daily.  DAILY.

I dedicate today’s beautiful run to you dear uncle. 

R.I.P. David (Bo) Hogan 6/20/52 – 6/9/12

Adjustments

I couldn’t run yesterday because I got a substitute teaching job, then went to my regular job, then my oldest son’s middle school open house.  Therefore, my weekdays’ back-to-back, short/semi-long/short runs had to be adjusted to short/semi-long/rest/short runs.  Actually, I got a sub job today as well, but when I arrived to the high school, I learned the assignment had been cancelled.  So, there I was, awake, coffee’d-up, husband getting the boys off to school . . . IT WAS TIME TO RUN.  (First I returned home and changed – can’t very well run trails in heels!)

I ran into Wood Canyon and up Cholla to West Ridge for an out-and-back to Top of the World.  It’s my best short run route – lots of elevation for a relatively easy run.  And I LOVE elevation (in a sicko kind of way.)

Running up Cholla:

The weather was warm and the skies blue – my favorite running weather.  I earned quite a sweat running up Cholla Trail.  And then, though I ran just a tad faster than my regular pace, I felt like I wasn’t working hard enough.  Running to Top of the World almost felt effortless.  I know that sounds crazy, but this route used to kill me.  Today, I kept thinking, “work harder, you’re not working hard enough.”  And so, here and there, I’d pick up my pace some, both on the uphills and downhills.  I found quickening my pace difficult, but it didn’t “hurt.” 

View of Pacific Ocean from Park Avenue Nature Trail:

Cheers from Top of the World:

Day Two

My training plan for Twin Peaks is basically this:  Rest, then three runs back-to-back (short/semi-long/short), then rest again and end the week with two back-to-backs (long/semi-long). Today I ran my semi-long run at Aliso/Wood Canyons.  Scheduled for ten miles, I decided on a lovely, semi-tortuous run up Meadows trail.  After running through a field of countless swallows nose-diving into the grasslands and twirling about like little children at play, I noticed dozens upon dozens of these gorgeous bugs fluttering between bushes:

Running Meadows:

Looking back, Meadows doesn’t look so bad (but the climb has barely begun):

By the time I reached Top of the World, I sensed (from using mental math) that my loop wasn’t going to equal ten miles.  9.5 / 10 miles – what’s the difference??? I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter.  But I knew it would matter to me and began thinking of ways of adding a half mile.   

I didn’t run directly to the ridge route (West Ridge.)  Instead, I took Park Avenue Nature Trail to add just a tad to the run.  And then I hit the down hill of West Ridge, pushing my pace for that negative split (ya, ya, I know, not too difficult to run a negative split when the major climb is in the first half – perhaps for some runners, but not this one).  I pushed it even harder for the long down hill called Mathis Trail.  When I hit the mileage marker in Wood Canyon that indicated that I had 2.5 miles remaining, I knew that I was going to come up short at least a half mile.  So I ran a bit up Dripping Cave, but turned around before the cave because I knew I’d waste time playing in the cave. 

When I hit Aliso Creek Trail, I thought that I might find myself running around the parking lot when I got back to ranger station.  Then I remembered a new trail marker that had popped up a few months ago.  It’s located in an odd place, actually alongside the road adjacent to Aliso Creek Trail.  There’s a sign on the way in that says “no pedestrians.”  How someone’s supposed to get to this trail is a mystery.  (By the way, I see lots and lots of pedestrians on this road.  In fact, I rarely see pedestrians on the trail, they almost all opt for the road.)  So, I ran off my dirt trail, crossed the “no pedestrians” road to this “new” trail:”

And I ran it:

After about a tenth of a mile, the dirt trail ended at a cement road that crossed over Aliso Creek.  I found no more trail markers and wondered whether or not I was “allowed” here:

Quite quickly I ran up on a three-wall structure, filled with odd things like a table, a chair, buckets, backpacks, and books.  It felt eerie, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Then I kept on running on a trail that looked like this:

After a while I came upon an apiary or bee yard.  Notice the Do Not Enter sign.  I obeyed that sign, really feeling like I was being watched or something and turned around and ran back to my nice, safe trail. 

Turns out I didn’t need to run around the parking lot to get in my miles.

Day One

Today my Twin Peaks training began, using my own customized plan (customized by me).  And of all days, today, I really didn’t feel like running because I had a doctor’s appointment north from my regular trails.  Afterward, I diligently drove to the nearest trails and put in my 6 miles on what’s called the Quail Hill Loop (located in Irvine, Ca).  I thought this was a 2 mile loop, ends up it’s a bit shorter, so I ran it a little over three times.  It was much like running a track, except with hills and a freeway view. 

Today’s run certainly was not a fun run, nor was it a fast run (though a few times I glanced at my garmin and picked up my speed purposely). 

 

Though the landscape looked only one color from afar (brown) there was lots of color dotting the landscape:

I'm no scofflaw, BUT I didn’t think this sign IN THE DIRT was for me, because that looked like a trail to me . . .

I took that “trail” toward this lovely outcropping (below).  About a tenth of a mile up, I came to a fork.  Deciding which to take I saw the biggest bobcat I’ve ever seen.  The bobcats I usually see are at most knee high (as tall as my knees from paws to top of head).  If I’m not mistaken, this cat’s head measured up to my thighs!   He was moving slowly through the high grass.  Not really wanting to deal with a bobcat today, I ran back to the loop.  Then I thought, “Dang it!  I didn’t get a picture.”  And so I went back.  Duh!!  This time though I traveled the “This is not a Trail” Trail cautiously and without music.  I didn’t see the cat, so I took the other fork toward the outcropping until it ended. 

After finishing my second Quail Hill Loop, I reversed the loop, and after that ran until I finished 6 miles.

Back on Quail Hill Loop:

This graph looks way worse than it was.  Notice the top elevation is only 300 feet:

Camp Pendleton Mud Run 2012

It’s been ages since I’ve run a mud run.  It’s also been ages since I’ve run with trail running friend, Jeremy H.  So, I guess it’s more than apropos that I ran today’s mud run at Camp Pendleton with Jeremy. 

Let me back up a bit.  Mud runs are a big thing in Southern California, especially Camp Pendleton’s “World Famous” Mud Run.  Reading this post however, you might wonder, “What the heck is a mud run?” 

Basically, a mud run is a relatively short run (5k or 10k) through mud, sometimes thick, so thick your shoes get stuck, other times thinner, more like very muddy water.  There’s always some kind of obstacles involved – obstacles like wall climbing, tunnel crawling, tiring hopping, muddy slippery slopes, etc.  About the only thing I don’t like about mud runs, is that I can’t take my camera along, or ipod, or anything electronic for fear of ruining it.   

Today’s 10k mud run began beneath gray skies around a serene lake, a family play area for marines to take their families.  We contestants took off in two waves on a dusty path straight into a couple fire hoses.  I didn’t try to avoid the hoses like I have in the past.   I merely ran on through with thousands of other runners (There were two waves of runners this morning – it’s hard to tell from the stats how many runners played today, but it appears to have been between 3 and 4 thousand total). 

After getting drenched by the hoses, we ran off the road and onto a smaller trail for basically a 4 mile uphill run.  With water stops at every mile where I grabbed a water here and there, I ran the entire uphill only a little faster than I usually run uphills.  A good thing about me was that I recover quickly and was able to run very quickly downhill.  Some runners not used to hills needed to take the downhills to recuperate. 

One lady tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You are my pacer.”  I answered, “Why me?”  To which this very wonderful :) lady responded, “You are great, so strong and steady.”    Wow.  I didn’t feel strong and steady.  But I really loved that she said that. 

After running up and down some tall mud moguls and up and over a wall, I saw Jeremy running back from the lake.  I looked forward to the lake because that’s where I pass a lot of people.  Why?  Because most people walk through the lake.  I swim it.  But today, the lake was bone dry!  Well, not exactly bone dry.  We got to run through some smelly thick mud right through the center of it. 

After the lake, there was more mud running, more moguls and walls.  I found it difficult to scale the walls.  They were slippery with mud.  Usually I throw my legs to the top of these approximate five foot walls and roll over into the mud on the other side.  I could not throw my legs up sideways to the top today because I would end up kicking someone, it was that crowded.  Instead, I had to lift myself up purely with my arms (as if I were getting out of a swimming pool), hoist myself to the top, somehow get into the sitting position and jump down into the watery mud on the other side.

We also had a slippery hill toward the end where marines blasted fire hoses down from the top.  Most of the runners/hikers slipped and slid going up. I ran right up the water path.  It was a cinch compared to trying to run up in the mud. 

Finally, we had a long pipe to crawl through, and steep descent to run.  For the finale we had to crawl through a watery mud pit low enough to stay beneath low-lying ropes.  I did not crawl however, because of my sore knee (from Thursday’s fall).  Instead, I walked with my hands and lightly kicked my feet out behind me.   

I came in 1 hour 24 minutes after all that.  I didn’t beat myself up to do it.  I had a lot of fun.  I was surprised to read later that I was 50th out of 154 runners in my category (civilian women 45 through 49).  It didn’t seem that I did that well.  Jeremy did terrific, making his goal, which I thought would be tough to do with all the obstacles.  But he did it (And he’s running a marathon tomorrow to boot – my very first marathon, the SD Rock n’ Roll Marathon.  I’m  just a tad jealous. )

What a fun way to end my week of recovery, the week before I begin training for Twin Peaks. 

Bag Check:

Post race in the sun:

Trail Racing friend Kurt (I’ve met him at several Big Baz Trail Races):

Group Photo.  Jeremy & me after walking through the outdoor public “showers”:

Back In The Vest

Today, I put back on my vest.  With 64 fluid ounces of water, a few gels, my camera, phone, tissues, Nuun tablets and more, it felt heavy on my back. About a mile in, my good ole’ vest felt just like normal.  And I was back to normal, hocking loogies off the trail.  What is going on with me? 

This morning the weather was hot, the skies blue.  I decided to run a clockwise loop up Meadows at Aliso/Wood Canyons.  Why Meadows?  Because now (ha, ha) I consider that a “runnable” trail (see elevation profile below and perhaps you will laugh too.)  I took in one gel when I reached the top of Meadows Trail and kept on going, admiring the ocean view on the run. 

The view running up Meadows:

Whew!  Made it to the top of Meadows Trail:

The weather so warm, I didn’t see many runners out today.  They probably made an early morning run of it. But I came across plenty of hikers and bikers, especially at Top of the World.  There, I watched a group of three ladies with backpacks and water (good girls) studying the kiosk map, exclaiming how they didn’t want to get lost.  Then I watched as they hiked up a dead-end trail.  I watched them hike back down as I ran Park Avenue Nature Trail to Westridge.   It’s funny how I’ve lost perspective on getting lost at Aliso/Wood Canyons.  The trail system makes perfect sense to me (now).  There’s absolutely NO POSSIBLE WAY to get lost.  (A sign I’ve run these trails at least one too many times – that’s a good thing.)

Another summit – Top of the World:

Lovely, dainty pink flowers on a Westridge detour:

So, I ran down Cholla Trail back into the Canyon with pretty decent time, especially after feeling so sluggish at the start.  I thought, heck, kick it in a little and try for a negative split.  Of course, I didn’t have the elevation gain on the second half of this run.  All the more reason to go for a negative split. 

I watched my garmin periodically, and that helped me pick up my pace when I slowed.  Cool breezes blew through the canyon.  Bikers made their way through, smiling.  I concentrated on keeping my speed faster than I wanted to run (not an all out sprint of course).  And as I ran, I noticed dozens of snake tracks across the width of Wood Canyon Trail.  I would have loved to have seen the actual critters so that I could snap a photo.  But I never actually saw the culprits.  Instead, I found myself flying (yes flying!) through the air.  I didn’t even feel the trip that my foot made over something like a rock or root.  Usually, my foot feels something, I know I’m going to trip and I can save the fall. 

Not this time.

Nope, I found myself, completely unexpectedly flying through the air.  And though only a moment passes during the time you realize you’re falling and when you land, I knew this was not going to be one of my ballerina falls.  A ballerina fall is that fall where the impact spreads evenly, I roll over my right shoulder, bounce back up and continue running. 

Instead what happened was this:  First my left knee crashed to the dirt.  Then my right knee hit, but not as hard, as my right elbow skidded along the trail, my momentum still moving forward.  Then my left wrist/palm made impact, soon after my right wrist/palm followed.  That’s when I rolled.  Yup, when it was all over, I rolled over my right shoulder to lay on my back, actually my vest back. 

I got up quickly, noticed some blood on my right elbow and left knee, and redness on all the other impact spots.  Covered in dusty dirt, I sat at the side of the trail and looked about to see if anyone witnessed my little air dance.  I was alone in the canyon. 

After a couple seconds, I stood back up and continued running.  I ran slowly at first with an aching knee and aching hands.  Within a couple miles I picked up my pace.  Even though I might have run quicker without the fall, I still made it into my truck running the second half of this run about 20 minutes quicker than the first half. 

Elevation Profile:  12.17 miles (19.59 km):