Which Is More Stupid?

After yesterday’s trail running fiasco adventure, I returned home to a hot bath, got the boys home from school and then I napped.  I slept miserably, feeling every single scratch on my skin.  Then I put on a dress and matching fancy flip-flops with no support or give in them whatsoever.  But their beads matched the color of my dress perfectly.  I spent the next two hours at our teenaged son’s back-to-school night, bumps still covering my arms and legs. 

By the time I arrived home last evening my left heal was giving me such miserable pain, that I could not put any weight on it.  Even when sitting and my feet up, my heal ached immensely.  Before I went to bed last night, I cancelled this morning’s planned run.  A great fear gripped my heart that today I would be scheduling an appointment with our orthopedic surgeon. 

I could barely sleep last night, having to eventually elevate my foot on two pillows.  I dreamt all night that I broke my foot, that I had somehow fractured it as I plodded down that steep trail during my trail running adventure. 

This morning I was pretty much convinced that I had fractured my foot.  “What a dummy!”  I thought.  Three weeks out from Twin Peaks and I got myself injured!  My morale was dipping quickly.  My middle son said to me, “Mom, if you broke your foot, you’d be screaming in pain – that’s what Dad told me when I thought that I broke my foot.”

After getting the boys off to school, I returned home and went straight to bed.  I took two ibuprofen and elevated my foot once again and hoped, oh did I hope that it was those dang sandals I wore last night that caused the pain.  I vaguely remembered them causing pain before.  Perhaps that’s why they were buried so deeply beneath my bed.

After sleeping for three hours, I woke with much decreased pain.  By two o’ clock I could put full weight on my left heal with no pain at all.  It was a miracle!!  : ) .  I’m sure I’ll never know what occurred, but I couldn’t help but wonder, which is more stupid – unknowingly running down a dead-end trail into a closed canyon or wearing a pair of no-give, no-support sandals simply because the beads matched the color of my dress?

I’m playing it safe from now on.  Really!!!

Should Have Turned Back!

I went out for 16 trail miles late this morning.  I was READY.  I had my fluids, my calories.  Hubby was going to pick up the boys from school.  Opting for something semi-different today, I decided on El Moro (the coastal hills in Newport Beach).  Unfamiliar with the trail mileage there, I had only a general plan in mind. 

I ran along a lonely, sunny Bommer Ridge, hopeful for a nice fulfilling run.  I admired the Top of the World across Laguna Canyon.  I looked at Santiago Peak wistfully.  Then I decided to tune-in and look into El Moro Canyon.  That’s when I realized I had missed my trail.  So I turned around and took the first unmarked trail down into Emerald Canyon.  I thought Old Emerald was unmarked, though I wasn’t sure.  But this sure seemed like Old Emerald . . . AT FIRST. 

The trail grew tighter and steeper. And I began to think I had taken the wrong trail.  I broke my own rule concerning situations like this.   I should have turned back.  Oh how I should have turned back. 

Running down what I thought was Old Emerald Trail:

It grew so steep, I slipped and fell.  I had to scoot down over large boulders.  The brush grew thicker  and I found myself sliding, face forward.  And when I landed on my behind, sticks and small branches slipped beneath my shorts and underwear and stabbed my bear butt.  Ouch.

And then I found myself boxed in.  I really, really should have hiked back up to the ridge.  But I was so worn out, I just couldn’t do it.  Big mistake. I followed all forks to discover the brush impenetrable.  Eventually, I spied a trail through the thickness, a trail that I recognized as Emerald Falls (Or maybe it’s called Emerald Canyon).  Either way, it’s a portion of the trail that has been closed for a couple years, so destroyed it was by massive rains.  If only I could get to this trail I could get back on track.  But a large ravine with ten foot walls separated me from this trail, not to mention, massive brush growth. 

I

I managed my way into the ravine, falling of course.  I popped up right away and scoured the area, left and right for a way up to the other side.  There was absolutely NO WAY up.  But I did notice a tree in the distance growing next to the edge.  Holding my handheld with my teeth, I grabbed a branch with both arms, pulled myself up  and climbed the trunk with my legs.  I sat in v-section for a bit to gather my wits.  Then I scooted from the tree to the bank’s edge.  Really.  No lie. 

Popping up after my slide-fall-run into the ravine:

My tree:

Yup, sitting in the tree (got to document it all! : )

Now on the the other side, I’ll tell you – I STILL SHOULD HAVE TURNED BACK.  I was stuck in the midst of a tight thicket.  A thin, thorny vine wrapped me like a cocoon.  “Push through it,” I told myself.  “Push.”  Everything time I tried to break through, the vines tightened and tore at my skin and clothing.  I thought about reaching into the back of my pack to see if I packed my knife.  But I was growing so weary, I didn’t think I could reach back.  I used my hat to push down some of the brush on my right side.  Then struggling, I lifted my right leg high and stomped down on the brush.  I did the same with my left side, and continued on this way until I finally made it to the trail.  I was beat. 

The trails won today.  I don’t usually consider myself playing against the trails.  I play with the trails.  But there are those days like today . . . when I should have turned back!

“Get me the heck home,” was all I could think.  My legs were bloody and scratched.  Welts covered my arms and legs as well.  I wanted so badly to madly sob.  But I really just didn’t have the energy.  The only thing I had the energy to do was run.  I kicked up my feet and ran back up to the ridge and all the way back to my truck, for a total of 8 miles today. 

I’ve been “out of sorts” all day.  Why, why, why, do I break my own rules?  I thought I learned in Texas when I got lost, that I need to turn back and go the same way I came AS SOON AS I REALIZE I’M OFF-TRACK.

It’s not just trail running . . . IT’S AN ADVENTURE!

Finally making it to the trail:

A last glimpse at Santiago Peak:

Just about a mile left:

Thus Begins My Last Hard Week

This morning I ran the first run in the last “hard week” of my Twin Peaks Training.  I could have definitely used another day of rest after my 38 mile weekend.  But I was out there on the trails this morning nonetheless.  Don’t have much to say about the run.  I was tired.  I felt sluggish and didn’t much enjoy myself.  Then I escaped into the moment and just “was.”  That’s right.  I didn’t think about anything.  I neither enjoyed nor suffered.  Simply ran and did my miles.  I sprinted in the last 50 yards. 

Tonight, I am tired still. 

Miles run: 6.37

Weather:  Perfect; warm, but not hot, with an occasional breeze.

Running up Cholla Trail:

Time to harvest the Prickly Pear:

View of Pacific Ocean from Park Avenue Nature Trail:

Cheers from from a weary lady at Top of the World (Laguna Beach):

I’m Not Proud (But I Didn’t Have A Choice)

After spending the morning with my family, I drove off to the coastal hills for a 1:00 PM trail run to finish off this “hard” week.  When I arrived the gates were closed, yet cars were parked in the lot and along the road.  People were also turning around their cars and driving back the way they came.  I pulled up next to the ranger who stood at the gates.  She told me the park was closed for everyone coming in.  There was a fire in Laguna Beach.  It wasn’t out of control.  But if it did get out of control and they had to evacuate the park, they didn’t want the trouble of evacuating too many people. 

As this kind woman spoke to me, my brain was elsewhere, thinking:  “Please stop talking.  I get it!  I just need to somehow sneak into the park, then I can stay.” 

“Okay, thank you.”  I smiled, turned around and drove off.  I thought of all the park entrances and decided that Top of the World would be my best bet.  So, I went on my way, taking about a half hour driving into Laguna Beach.  I could see smoke in the distance.  Then suddenly the traffic came to a near halt.  At this point I figured that the rangers could easily block entrance at Top of the World.  Then I remembered a way in that most people don’t think about.  There is a park in the neighborhood that Mentally Sensitive ends near.  So, off I was, driving approximately 5 miles an hour to my destination, hoping I could sneak into Aliso/Wood Canyons.  I had to run trails today, especially so close to The Taper.

I felt sneaky.  I felt selfish.  I didn’t really like what I was doing.  But I really wanted to get in this run.  And besides, I tried to justify, if anyone’s going to be safe and know what to do if trouble arises, it’s going to be me.

Before I continue, I should go into a little background for people who don’t live here.  October is fire season in California.  It has always been (Okay, it’s not exactly October, but it’s close).  Some Octobers we escape without fires.  Other Octobers we get clobbered.  A few years ago, my parents were evacuated in San Diego county from wildfires that burned down several neighborhoods.  Also, some years back in Orange County, we had some pretty bad fires, closing some mountain trails for a year or more. 

I remember as a child living near the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains (L.A. county), seeing those mountains ablaze again and again.  Ashes used to fall down like snowflakes in our backyard.  Our car windows were coated with ash.  I guess you probably got the point that October is fire season, and that we are a little paranoid about it around here.  But more so, we are paranoid about it in Laguna Beach.  In 1993, during my senior year in college, Laguna Beach had a firestorm like no other that I can remember.  Other areas got hit too.  But Laguna Beach only has 3 ways out – Highway 1 South, Highway 1 North, and Laguna Canyon Road. 

We lived pretty close to the Dana Point / Laguna Beach border at the time.  Standing outside our apartment, we could watch for hours, miles and miles of headlights trying to escape the city.  A bright orange glow shined at the tops of the hills.  Ashes rained down everywhere.  Entire neighborhoods burned to the ground, 366 homes total and 17,000 acres in Laguna Beach alone.

The local community has very good reason to be paranoid about fires.  This is why I’m not proud of circumventing this paranoia so that I could run. 

The hills were smoking as I drove on today toward the park near Mentally Sensitive.  Dozens of firemen, dressed in heavy gear climbed the hillsides in 90 F degree heat.  A helicopter occasionally flew by to drop fire repellant. 

I finally made it to the street I needed.  It was blocked by police.  So, I drove around to get to the other side of the smoldering hillside.  I parked along the street, happy to see no law enforcement or fire crews, and ran into the city park toward Mentally Sensitive.  Before I arrived to the trail, I spotted Meadows Trail in the distance.  Three fire trucks were parked at Meadows’ entrance.  So, I wouldn’t be running down Meadows.  Thing was, Mentally Sensitive’s trailhead is visible from Meadows.  And so, I bushwhacked my way down the hillside so that I could reach my trail unseen lower down the slope.  Thing was, when I came upon my trail, I could still see the firemen.  I don’t know if they could see me, or if they even cared.  But I ducked, yes, I’m not proud.  I ducked as I ran along the trail.  If only I wasn’t wearing my dang orange hat.  Eventually I had to stand erect, the trail was so steep.  When I did, I didn’t look back.  I ran down Mentally Sensitive and didn’t ease up until the trucks were no longer in my sight.

I was in!  And unless they evacuated the park, I was going to stay in.  But I didn’t see anyone for at least three miles, so of course I worried that they had indeed evacuated the park.  Finally, I came upon some mountain bikers.  Later I came upon small groups of hikers, so I felt confident the rangers had not evacuated.  Unless the same ranger who told me they were closed saw me, and remembered me (dang orange hat), I was home free!  Just to make sure, I took a single track as soon as I could.  I ran Coyote Run, feeling pretty good physically.  But the heat was tough. 

In all I ran a ten mile loop.  I was supposed to run 12 miles.  I goofed, because I forgot to look at “The Plan.”  Therefore, I came in about 2/3rd’s of a mile short of my 72 weekly miles.  (My oldest son said that I should just run around the block, I laughed at that notion – smart boy, but this Mama’s done running for the week!).

Shhhh (please).  Running down Mentally Sensitive:

Finishing up Meadows, headed into Wood Canyon:

Coyote Run Trail:

Running up Rock It Trail:

Headed back to my truck:

My Second-To-Last Long Run Before The Taper

Yesterday, I stressed somewhat over today’s long run.  Why?  Not so much the distance, though I knew 28 miles would be difficult in the Saddleback Mountains.  I stressed because weather forecasts reported 107 F (approximately 42 C).  And guess what!  It was 107 degrees according to reports this afternoon.  Thank God for some breezes.  And I was also very fortunate to have company on this blazing hot run.  Cody L.  woke at 2:30 AM to make the drive to meet me at 5:30 for this 6:00 AM training run.  He’s running Twin Peaks also, but being that he lives in another county, he hasn’t had the chance to train much in The Saddleback Mountains.

We ran 2 fourteen mile loops (A Holy Jim/Main Divide/West Horse Thief loop).  First we ran it clockwise back to the truck which we used as our aid station.  After fluid refills and a snack (or two) we headed off on the same loop, except this time counter-clockwise.  Climbing Horse Thief in the heat was brutal.  I was aiming for brutal.  I wanted to take Horse Thief on tired legs in the heat to see how long it might take me in the race.  (Today, we hit Horse Thief at about mile 17; Twin Peaks we’ll go up at mile 32!) Overall, the second loop was nearly unbearable for me because of the heat.  I took all precautions and didn’t suffer from heat exhaustion though.  I’m learning.    

We made it back, alive and kicking.  Well, maybe not exactly kicking.  I felt fine, just exhausted, driving Cody back to his car.  He was still smiling and even still looking forward to Twin Peaks.  “We need to run it faster,” he said to me as we chatted about today’s run. 

“You think?” I responded almost deliriously and then busted up laughing.  He’s a good guy (half my age by-the-way), it’s endearing to see someone so carefree and looking so dang forward to this race.  I’m on the other hand, pretty much scared to death!

LOL.  So why do I do it?  I guess I’m just crazy. 

And on to the pics, with some additional information . . .

Running The Main Divide (for the first time, before the heat really set in):

Group shot standing at the top of West Horse Thief before a rocky run down to finish up loop one:

Running down West Horse Thief:

Heading off for loop #2 with a drenched bandana on my head:

Trabuco Trail:

Cody headed toward Horse Thief with my San Juan 50k t-shirt wrapped around his head for sun protection (he forgot his hat : )

Running Main Divide, eager for the down hill / semi-shady trip on Holy Jim:

The crazy profile:

Ouch

The aftermath this morning from yesterday’s trail running “mishap” (fall) was greater than I expected.  Perhaps the heat exhaustion added to my overall sense of health.  Overly fatigued this morning when I woke at 6 AM, the entire right side of my body ached, especially my right butt cheek.  I found yet another pebble in my elbow, but overall, the wounds on my elbow and legs cleaned up well.  It doesn’t look nearly as bad as yesterday, but I ache.  My elbow aches, my knee aches.  So does my shin, and my entire right arm, and a tad bit of my left arm.  . 

I took two ibuprofen and went about my morning chores – making breakfasts, packing lunches, getting the boys off to school.  The weather was cool and the air wet, the skies gray.   I rushed back home to do some laundry and clean the kitchen.  Then I was off.  Off to the trails at Aliso/Wood Canyons.   I had ten miles on the agenda, and I wanted to get them done in this cool weather.  Only thing was, a few miles inland and the skies were blue and the sun beamed down pretty harshly. 

That’s okay.  I could deal.  I can deal with just about anything.  Dang it!

Well, I sweated profusely as I ran through Aliso Canyon, then into Wood Canyon.  I took Meadows Trail which is now completely brown with a few yellow flowers dotting the landscape.  On the way, I was oh so fortunate to come across a little red weasel as he poked his head out of his ground hole.  He seemed to look at me with curiosity.  We made eye contact and he darted back down beneath the ground.

I opted to climb the hardest trail in the park (Mentally Sensitive) because I only have two “hard” weeks remaining.  It was pretty hellish.  Perhaps I am too harsh.  I enjoyed the climb, really.  I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t enjoy something truly hellish.  It was rather good “hard fun.”  : )  Best of all, when I reached the top, I was back in the cool, wet clouds. 

Tomorrow, I rest.

Not really.  I’ve got tons of chores to do, especially with all the miles I’ve got stacked up for the weekend.  But I rest from running.

Overall, despite my “mishap,” today was a success on the trails.

Thanks for reading!

 Meadows Trail (I’m aiming for those clouds ahead):

Climbing Mentally Sensitive (with a cheerful heart & so much sweat that I thought my pack was leaking):

Top of Mentally Sensitive, notice Santiago Peak in distant background:

Greetings from Top of the World (once again):

Today’s profile: