Low Point in Training

I can’t get my groove lately, and I’m experiencing a momentary lapse of progress in my training.  For a while there, I felt stronger, I ran faster, I finished faster.  I’m guessing about a week and a half ago fatigue hit me like a brick wall.  Suddenly, I feel weak, I’m running slower and finishing even slower.  I won’t even get started on the negative self-talk that’s been whirling around my head.

I kept Friday as scheduled, a rest day.  Today, Saturday, was my scheduled long run.  I woke at 4:30 AM, walked out to the living room and said to myself, “I. JUST. CANNOT. DO. IT.”  Knowing that I will get my groove back, hopefully very soon, I nicely kicked my son off the couch (why was he sleeping on the couch?) and fell back asleep on the couch.  I woke every hour, on the hour after that, when I finally awoke for good at 9:00 AM. 

I decided to swap today’s training with tomorrow’s, and go for a ten mile run this afternoon.  My feet hit dirt around 12:30 PM.  Extremely hot out there, I felt sluggish at the start.  A half mile in, I thought I just can’t do this.  But I trudged on in the blistering heat anyway.  After a mile and a half I decided, heck, just visit some of your favorite nearby places in Wood Canyon, chuck the training, simply run and enjoy the scenery.

And then the pressure was off.  The next mile was still tough.  But after a rest in a naturally air conditioned cave called Dripping Cave, the remaining miles were bearable, and there were even fleeting moments of enjoyment.

Who knows if I’ll get my long run in tomorrow.  I am definitely burned-out.  We shall see. : )  On the good side, I got some more pictures.  LOL.  Thanks for reading!

A Squished Scorpion:

Short-cut up Cave Rock:

Glorious shade on the way to Dripping Cave:

Dripping Cave:

Waiting for my groove (ha, ha) next to Wood Creek:

Running back (yay!) on Aliso Creek Trail:

Miles run this afternoon:  5.38

“Through [the] Strange Hours [I] Linger Alone.”

Hectic, hectic week.  With next week the last of summer work for me, I have been busy with work, busy with anxiety over students succeeding, busy with other issues that I’ll leave unwritten.  Needless to say, I didn’t get my first two training runs of the week.

I set off this morning before sunrise, headed for Saddleback Mountains.  Though today’s plan dictated 12 miles, I opted for a 14 mile loop up Holy Jim Trail to The Main Divide, down West Horsethief, and ending with Trabuco Trail back to my truck. 

I get a little giddy when “The Saddleback” comes in sight – driving the toll road this morning, there she is!:

I arrived to a canyon lot and noticed only two cars – both of them apparently empty, one locked up, the other with its windows down, inside a battery type light that was lit on the dashboard.  That spooked me for no reason other than I found it unusual.  I drove the canyon road to Holy Jim parking lot quicker than usual.  It’s a rocky ride – very bumpy in my little truck.  About a half mile from the Holy Jim parking lot, I came upon two sheriff squad cars, both of the officers standing in the road. 

I slowed and rolled down my window.  “Is it safe to go in there?”

“Sure,”  one of the officers said.  “You going for a run?” 

I wondered how he knew, but then realized my garmin gave me away when he said he had the same garmin.  After talking running for a bit, the officers told me to let them know if I saw a certain type of car (which they described to me). 

“Should I be scared of it?”

“Oh no,” they replied.  “Just wanting to make sure they’re all right.”

When I told them that I didn’t have cell service in the mountains, they said, that was okay, that if I saw the car, mark the trail and let them know when I’m done.

Hmmm.  Now, that was odd.  As I drove away, I wondered why I would need to mark the trail, when it donned on me that they thought that I might see it off the road, as in, drove off the mountain.  Yikes. 

Spooked again, being the only person in the Holy Jim lot:

Holy Jim was quiet, lonely and tranquil.  Beautifully cool and a bit dark, I ran this portion with a slightly aching right hamstring and calve.  About 1 mile in I stopped to stretch the right leg and spotted a rather large campsite hidden deep in the brush, camouflaged a great deal by the forest.  With no road access to the sight, I was tempted to investigate, but then decided to run off quietly, spooked again that perhaps I noticed something I wasn’t suppose to notice. 

A half mile later, I noted from my garmin, I ran upon a red beach towel spread out over a boulder.  This was about the fourth thing out of the ordinary – most of them silly – bit still.  I couldn’t wait to get out of the shaded forest of Holy Jim’s Trail.

I didn’t make great time running up Holy Jim.  But I took deep breaths of beauty and enjoyed myself.  I didn’t see a single person.  And . . . and I wasn’t fooled by a false summit.  I think I’ve finally got the five miles memorized.  (A false summit to me is a high point on the trail that I either think is the last of the hill or some kind of turning point, like another trail head, etc, and it ends up not being so.  A false summit is a big mental downfall in my running). 

The gnats finally found me on The Main Divide.  They were thick at times, other times thin.  More than once I breathed in 3 or 4 through my nose at once!  Out of tissue, my shirt came in handy. 

The Main Divide:

By the time I reached West Horsethief, I would say that my mental game was pretty much lost.  I couldn’t shake the negative talk.  And though I told myself to take this steep switch-back swiftly, I ran it too cautiously.  Extremely rocky, I just couldn’t get over the fear factor.  I thought about how much time I’d lose in Twin Peaks running down West Horsethief, and frankly, that pissed me off. 

At the bottom of Horsethief, I forced myself to shake off the negative stuff and just enjoy the rest of the run.  And that is what I did.  I ran that last very long 3 miles a bit slowly, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Reaching West Horsethief:

Entering W. Horsethief:

This is how I felt running down, slipping and sliding, tripping along the way down West Horsethief Trail:

But the view was awesome:

ps.  If you wonder why I punctuated the title of this blog that way, it’s because I used a Doors song line, but switched out two words, which I bracketed. 

Feels Like Cheating

I wondered how on Earth I was going to get in ten miles today after a run like yesterday’s.  I woke late this morning sore and a bit groggy.  I've made too many training plan adjustments, so I KNEW I would run ten miles today, no matter how much it hurt.  BUT I wasn’t rushing out the door to do it.  Instead, I washed dishes, floors, clothes, did grocery shopping, made breakfasts, lunches, checked up on my students on-line.  I emptied trash, fed our dog, washed more dishes, organized my running gear.  One might think I was doing everything I could to avoid THE RUN. 

To save on gas, time away from the family and more realistically miserable muggy heat, I decided to run out my front door late this afternoon for today’s run.  The sun shined down strongly, but with the cool ocean breeze, I found the heat pleasantly bearable.  Not only that, I ran on pavement, mostly flat pavement, and I felt strong.  So strong, it felt like I was cheating.  I’m not claiming that today was one of those effortless runs.  No; my calves were tight at the onset.  And I sweated buckets running through the beach campground with their bar-b-que’s and campfires roaring.  But it was certainly no mountain run.  I didn’t run fast, but I found relative ease keeping a decent pace for the entire run.  That just doesn’t happen on mountain runs (a decent pace the entire run, that is).  No way!! 

That’s okay.  I needed a run like today.  But I felt strong for only about the first 4 1/2 miles.  My energy began petering out at about mile five.  That’s way too early for me.  More proof that I needed a run that felt like I was cheating today. 

How I run down flights of stairs – eyes glued to the steps so that I don’t trip:

The boardwalk at Capo:

Running with no gear on my back, no pepper spray . . . the glory of road running:

The marina:

In Way Over My Head

I set my phone alarm last night for 4:30 AM.  As I tossed and turned trying to sleep while the whole house was awake, I made a decision.  My decision was, no Bulldog 50k this year.  This is not the year of redemption for my (so far) only DNF.  This is the year of Twin Peaks, and I’m doing all I can just to finish that 50 miler. I don’t think a preoccupation on Bulldog is the best for me.  

Today’s training plan dictated 22 miles.  Being the middle of summer here in the U.S.,  I’m finding difficulty training for a big fall race, being that it’s so dang hot.  It’s especially difficult when that race is set in the mountains. 

22 miles the plan said, 22 miles I ran.  And after all the heat and torture that I went through, I’d have to say that the best thing that came out of today’s training is that I didn’t die.  Seriously!  And oh ya, I didn’t fall.  Oh, and I didn’t get heat stroke.  Most of all, this run showed me that I’ve got A LONG WAY TO GO and that I have once again bitten off more than I can chew.

So, how do I run a 22 mile suffer-fest in the local mountains on a scorcher of a day without turning around and walking/crawling back to the car?

First off, I left early (but still not early enough).  Secondly, I broke the run into parts.  Without parts I could have never done this run. 

Before “The Parts” / Holy Jim Parking Lot:

About 5:45 AM, coating myself with sunscreen, then putting on a warmer shirt (ha, ha).

Ready to go (the lot is empty except for my truck).

Part 1: Holy Jim Trail (from lot to top, Bear Springs, 5 miles):

The run through the forest was muggy, lots of gnats.  In order to keep the gnats out of my eyes, I wore sunglasses, which meant I pretty much ran in the dark during the first 1.5 miles or so.

Going up on this giant switch-back, back and forth, back and forth.

Part 2: The Main Divide to Santiago Peak (approx. 2.5 miles):

Though only a short distance, this portion was excruciating, especially after the Holy Jim trip.  Besides the steep terrain, I got gnats, biting (horse?) flies and mostly exposed trail (meaning SUN and more SUN).

Running with my training friends THE GNATS.  They’re with me, so that in October when they’re gone, it will seem easier.

A view from Santiago Peak, above the clouds:

Trying for a different kind of pose (okay, you can laugh – I had to think quick!)

Part 3:  Santiago Peak, Main Divide, Upper Holy Jim to Main Divide over to Indian Truck Trail (approx. 5 miles):

Running back to the towers at Santiago (“Talking”) Peak.

Running Upper Holy Jim had lots of tricky and rocky terrain, but at last some shade!  I concentrated so hard on the rocks and not tripping, that once I turned a corner and nearly screamed when I suddenly came upon father and son hikers resting upon some boulders.

Back on the Main Divide, the heat was beginning to wear me down.

Part 4: Indian Truck Trail (In it’s entirety this trail is 6.5 miles one-way, I ran 1.25 down, 1.25 back up today):

Though this part was also short, I found it very difficult.  Even my downhill pace was SLOW.  Really.  I ran through an oven on this trail.  And I also saw the only two runners I would see on this long run.

Heading back up Indian Truck Trail posing before Lilium pardalinum (Panther Lily):

Part 5: Indian Truck Trail to West Horsethief (approx. 3 miles):

These approximate 3 miles were very slow.  However, I was only fooled once by a “false summit.”  Good news, I’m getting to know this mainly uphill portion of The Main Divide.

Part 6: Down West Horsethief, Trabuco Trail back to Holy Jim parking lot (approx. 5 miles):

West Horsethief at last!!  From here it was downhill, a very steep and rocky downhill for the first mile or so.  Then an in and out of shade (forest/desert/forest/desert, etc) for the remainder of the run back to the Holy Jim lot.

West Horsethief comes to an end.

Trabuco, wonderful Trabuco!

I did not gain much confidence on this run.  Rarely did I feel strong.  Mostly I felt doomed when it comes to Twin Peaks.  I tried not to think of that too much though.  I mainly thought, “one foot in front of the other.”   Forget what I said above about the best thing that came out of this run.  The best thing that came out of this run was that I did it. 

Hot Like a Mutha

I would not say that my training is going great.  However, becoming a runner at a relatively late age, I should know that progress comes slowly.  And I should use that patience I learned as a runner to not get so down on myself for not improving quicker, and not adhering precisely to “The Plan.”  I will admit this:  I finish up my runs stronger than I ever have.  I also warm up on the run a tad bit quicker too.  That’s good news to me. 

I set my alarm to ring out at 5:30 AM this morning.  I woke, made a two-cup-pot of coffee.  My gear was already in a pile by the big chair.  Then I looked for a blanket, curled up on the couch and fell back asleep.  Thank goodness I had the family on my side re: running this morning.  I was able to get out the door by 9:30 AM.  (I had planned to be back before everyone woke)  Who am I kidding?  They practically pushed me out the door.

My feet finally hit dirt around 9:50 AM.  The skies were dark and cloudy.  But it was HOT AND MUGGY.  Sweat poured off my forehead early on in my run.  The air was so thick, I found nasal breathing difficult at times, especially climbing Mentally Sensitive Trail.  It was hot like a mutha, as we used to say where I grew up.  I grew up inland (but still in California), where temperatures routinely rose to 3 digit Fahrenheit.  “Hot like a mutha,” stood for something more profane that I won’t spell out here.  Let me just say, I found great difficulty keeping up my pace with clothing drenched in sweat and the air so dang thick.

At one point in today’s ten mile run, rain came down, and that did little to ease the heat.  Though, I did get some breezes here and there.  

Back at home, closer to the shore, the weather was downright cold for summertime.  Later it rained even harder.  LOL.

Aliso Canyon’s blooms:

Top of the World to you!

Mathis bloom:

Never ceases to amaze me how downright filthy I get running a few trails:

This morning’s profile:

From above: