Brutal!

I knew the third consecutive run of “Hard” week would be difficult.  I didn’t think the run would be brutal.  Ten miles, that’s all the plan said.  But I decided to run my ten miles on a Holy Jim Out-And-Back.  That’s a five mile trail in The Saddleback Mountains that ends at The Main Divide (Bear Springs).  It’s a tough five miles up (even down).  I’ve got it down now that I can usually run it all. 

I didn’t feel rested this morning, as I haven’t been sleeping well.  And I felt a little weak.  "Don’t care about time,” I told myself, “just do the miles.”

Slightly muggy and a little cool at the same time, about a thousand, yes ONE THOUSAND gnats decided to accompany me during the first two miles of Holy Jim.  I’m sure that I breathed in half a dozen through my nose. 

The downed tree still blocked Holy Jim just after the water falls turnoff.  That was delightful, hiking up the mountainside with a thousand gnats buzzing my face so that I could get around the tree.  I pushed it a little harder, though my pace was still slow, just to get away from those tiny bugs.

I tired easily running up that switch-back that I used to call “Holy Crap” instead of Holy Jim.  Today it felt once again like “Holy Crap.”  I felt a little light-headed and even hiked a few portions of single track.  Then I finally settled in and began enjoying the immense views.

I don’t know how this occurred, but at about 3.5 miles up, my camera flew out of my hand and off of the mountain.  You can imagine my horror as I looked down the side to see it resting lightly on a small tumbleweed-like plant.  The camera was probably about twenty feet down, so I needed to get down there.  Somehow.  I stood sideways at the edge figuring the best way to get down to my camera when the ground beneath me gave away.  I immediately fell and began sliding.  I quickly slid past my camera, unable to reach it.  I grabbed at plants on the way down to easily uproot everyone of them.  This slope was not secure!  Everything I touched went down with me. 

Many, many things go through my mind when stuff like this happen.  I knew instinctively to push my body into the mountainside.  I didn’t want to go airborne.  And I also knew instinctively to dig, dig, dig my foot into the mountain wall as I slid.  What I thought was this:  “Dang it!  It’s going to take ‘them’ forever to find me if I slide all the way to the ravine!”  I even kind of chuckled over the fine mess that I had found myself in.  My main thought, not really thought, but feeling was, “Don’t fall backward!” 

I finally dug my foot deep enough into the slope to stop my sliding.  And I began the slow process of digging in and climbing back up.  I looked for my camera on the way, didn’t see it at first.  Apparently, it slid some too in my avalanche.  Thank goodness there it was laying, as if not a care in the world, in that loosened plant, it’s lens still extended.  (Also, thank goodness I bought that extended in-case-you-throw-your-camera-off-a-mountain-and-break-it warranty). 

Climbing back up onto the trail, I found myself covered in dirt.  I had a minor cut on my left hand, a gash on right elbow (with a tiny bit of skin flapping),and welts up and down my left arm (that I didn’t notice until I got home).

Needless to say, the remaining trip to Bear Springs was excruciating!  Fatigue overwhelmed me, but eventually I made it.  I walked about on top, into the sun mainly to get away from my newly found gnat friends.  You can’t imagine how dang glad I was to have reached the top.  It was only five miles, but heck, what a brutal five miles.   I ran back so, so, so happy that I had only five miles left of mostly downhill.  And best of all, my camera still worked (for now!). 

I made decent (not good) time on the way back, especially considering my fatigue.  I even worked (ever so slightly) on my pivots around the switch-back turns.  And then of course those ONE THOUSAND gnats were back to greet me and run in the last two miles of this brutal run. 

Change of Scenery / Day Two of Hard Week

I should have wondered why I didn’t see a single other runner this morning.  I even only saw a few hikers.  I’ll tell you why no one was out in The Laguna Wilderness or Crystal Cove this morning.  No one came out to play because it was so humid, the air was so thick, even breathing was laborious. 

When I arrived home, my back and hands cramping, I told my husband, “That was hard!” 

“How many miles did you run?” he asked.

“Fourteen.”

“And you expected it to be . . . ?”

I did kind of expect a breeze since I ran so close to the ocean.  I did expect lower temperatures since the skies were overcast.  Expect the unexpected is what I often say.  Today was case in point.

Running in these adverse conditions has got to make me stronger.  Besides that – the trails were gorgeous.  AND, I rarely run these parks, so I needed to guess a 14 mile route.  Can you believe, I was almost right on.

Running No-Name Ridge (seriously that’s the trail’s name), headed toward No-DogsTrail (yup):

Making a turn at bottom of Crystal Cove to run up El Moro Canyon:

I LOVE EL MORO CANYON:

After a (kinda) quick jaunt up Nice and Easily Trail (which wasn’t so easy, but it was nice), I hopped onto Missing Link (below):

From Missing Link I ran El Moro Ridge looking for my second favorite trail here, Old Emerald Falls.  As usual, I made a wrong turn, so I got a little extra mileage added on searching:

Finishing up Old Emerald Falls:

Climbing the wretched Emerald Canyon:

Almost to the top (Bommer Ridge):

An exhilarating roller coaster profile:

The Mental Game

In every sport there’s the physical game and there’s the mental game.  The physical game takes lots of time perfecting, countless hours on the field, on the trail, etc.  The mental game on the other hand, is more difficult for me, and takes place all in my head.  It’s the battle against yourself.  It’s the battle, with me anyway, over whether I can do something, whether I deserve it, or whether I merely quit.  Just, as many aspects can throw the physical game (injury, not being fit), even more things can throw my mental game.  I have been losing the mental game the past few of weeks.  If you read regularly, you may have noticed the posts growing more negative, less carefree. 

Today begins the first run of Hard Week.  And I began this morning’s run having kicked the mental pitfalls out the door a couple days ago.  Forget that I was unable to secure a full-time job for September.  Forget that California is going bankrupt.  Forget that I feel inadequate to finish Twin Peaks.  These things I can overcome, as I can also overcome my bad diet, my failings as a mother, as a writer, and so many other things.  After all, we learn most from our failings don’t we?

Fortunately for me, the weather helped me get off to a good start this morning.  I got a nice cool ocean breeze running up to Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  My ankle is still worrisome to me.  But the pain was minimal.  When I returned home after a 6.5 mile rolling hills run, I iced it, wore an ankle brace for a few hours, then gave myself a pedicure, and it seems just fine. 

This week is going to be a tough, tough week running-wise.  I think I’ll just take it one run at a time.

Ready to ascend upon Cholla Trail which leads to West Ridge: 

Running trails at Aliso/Wood Canyons (either Cholla or West Ridge):

Heading back down Cholla (facing Wood Canyon) after a fulfilling cool summer morning run:

Out-and-back profile to Top of The World:

Fit for a Mountain

I made it to the Saddleback Mountains this morning and set off running up Holy Jim at the first sign of dawn.  Right away, gnats swarmed my face, and I thought that I’d name today’s blog “Die-Gnats-Die!”  The little devils managed to get behind my sunglasses.   This provided great motivation to pick up my pace and get out of the shaded forest area of Holy Jim. 

Before I could escape the gnats, I came upon a large fallen tree that made the trail impassable.  So, I hiked the slope up and around its yanked out roots.  About 2 miles up the trail, only one gnat remained hovering about my face. 

Even though I’m wasn’t “training,” I worked hard.  I’m not “training,” because that word simply stresses me out too much lately.  Why is it such a stressor?  Because I’m beginning to feel I don’t stand a chance in heck at finishing Twin Peaks within the time requirements.  And instead of trying, I gave up for about a week.  But I just can’t give up.  I’m one of those stupid people.  I simply don’t know when to quit! 

Reaching the top of Holy Jim Trail (Bear Springs):

Disappointed somewhat in my time getting to Bear Springs, I made that left onto The Main Divide and kept on running.  I usually hike quite a bit of that beginning truck trail.  Today, I ran and continued to run.  Eventually though, I grew so worn down, I had to stop.  Yes, that is STOP and rest.  I about lost my mind about there.  With the sun beating down and no one in sight, I yelled out a profanity and threw my empty handheld to the rocky ground.  I held back a huge urge to pick up the rocks and start heaving them off the mountain.  I ran a few more steps, water bottle in hand, and the anger welled up again.  This time I threw my handheld on the ground and stomped on it like a little child throwing a fit. 

Well, I pulled myself together and made it to Santiago Peak in a total of 3 hours.  I wanted at most 2:45. 

Santiago Peak:

After a mountain top view and a cool down from my mountain fit, I had an enjoyable 8 mile run back down to the canyon.  I tripped several times (without falling!)  The heat bared down on my legs so terribly, it felt like someone was holding torches near them.  And it was still fairly early.  I came across several hikers making their way up, all with miserable looks on their faces.  I thought to myself, “Why do they put themselves through that.”  And then I laughed. I put myself through that.  I get this in return:

Miles run this morning:  16.17

Rut

I am currently in the midst of the biggest running rut I’ve ever experienced.  I was rarely the lady who needed pushing out the door to go run.  I’d run out the door to go run trails. 

This week I’ve run a little over 6 miles.  I’ve awakened early every day to run.  My stack of gear is already to go, on top of the piano.  Yet, when it comes right down to it, I am in such a downer mood that I can’t get out the door.  Let me rephrase that, I refuse to push myself out the door. 

I may be sabotaging myself because the big ultra is now just two months away (less actually).  My diet has been crummy.  I’m not losing weight.  And I’m partaking too much from the vine. 

It’s like I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.  But I will get up.  (& even during this rut, I’ve been strength training on my living room floor).  And as Scarlett O’Hara said so eloquently in Gone with The Wind, “After all, tomorrow is another day.”

Restart

This morning I pushed the “Restart” button and went for my first run of this NON TRAINING week.  For some reason this whole “training” thing is throwing me for a loop.  I’m filled with guilt, regret and disappointment at various points during the week.  Yuk.  I DO NOT like that one bit.  I would rather just RUN. 

I love to run trails.  So, this week, that is exactly what I’m going to do.  I’m NOT training.  I’m merely running on dirt, on trails, in the lovely wilderness. 

Whatever mileage I run is the mileage I run.  Period.  Next week, I’ll get back to “training.”  And if I don’t, OH WELL.  I’m approaching 48 years of age for goodness-sake, I  really am happy that I’m able to do what I can.  Though I played lots of sports, I was NEVER a contender, nor was I was I someone to look back on.  (Occasionally, out-of-no-where, I’d hit a triple out of the blue – so I was considered decent. – I however, never considered myself decent.  I was so achieving the grades)  I never, EVER thought that I could achieve physically.  I was the sissy girl.  Perhaps that is why trail running has hit such a nerve with me.  I don’t have to run fast.  I just have to endure,

I left the house this morning with all the boys (& man, as in husband) still asleep.  I went for a short out-and-back to Top of the World overlooking Laguna Beach. 

I felt just right.  I didn’t feel weak.  I didn’t feel overly strong, but I kept a decent pace.  I didn’t care though about pace however, especially since  my Sunday fail.  So I spent a bit of time at the Top of the World overlooking a Pacific Ocean covered with billowy clouds.  Bliss (without alcohol or any other any hallucinogenic – not that I would actually know about that).

Surprisingly, I came across more than usual the amount of runners than I have lately.  That’s probably because I got an early start.  That of course meant for much cooler temperatures.  Glory.

Of course I am a runner kind of crazy:

Feeling FINE, running up cholla trail toward Top of The Word(I’m not too sure at this point):