In the Moment

On this very cold morning (it may have been freezing) I went for a Big Loop run in Aliso / Wood Canyons.  I call it the big loop because it’s the largest single loop I can run within this park.  Yet, it isn’t actually a loop.  It’s what some, including myself, call a “Lollipop.”  A lollipop loop has an out-and-back somewhere in the loop (the stick to the lollipop.)  In the Big Loop, the stick portion (out-and-back, is at the beginning and the end; that is, it ends on the same trail as it starts – Aliso Creek Trail).

Running the big loop clockwise means running up the hardest trail in the park.  Did that bother me?  Nah.  I pretty much took this run today thoughtless.  Yup, without a clue. That is, I didn’t think about anything.  Not a thing.  I just ran through The Present.  And as such, I was lucky enough to take in the moments as they soaked through me.  I took in the clumps of grass, deer running down slopes in the distance, spider and weasel holes in the dirt.  And after turning onto Meadows Trail, a bobcat pounced onto the trail in front of me. Then he quickly scurried into the brush.  He had apparently caught what looked like a rat, or some other rodent, and I was so lucky to take in his beauty and snap a picture at pretty close range.  He didn’t take his eyes off me, for sure.  And when I left, I trotted away backward (facing him: eyes on eyes) until the cat was no longer in sight.  I felt blessed for sharing that moment in nature with “Bobby.”  He was a beauty.

Turning onto Meadows Trail:

Bobby:

I eventually took off my beanie (running up Mentally Sensitive), but then wished I had it later on.  When I’m running though, I don’t like going through back compartments in my pack unless I absolutely have to.  I guess, I didn’t absolutely need my beanie.  With the wind howling, I was cold (not terribly) this entire run.  Fortunately, I layered clothing, so it was all acceptable.  When I just run and focus on the moment, temperature doesn’t bother me too much.  I know that seems odd.  Seems like I’d notice the cold more while focusing on the present.  But I don’t.  I guess, as the moments pass, you’re travelling to the next moments, and there’s no dwelling in what just was (which in today’s case was cold and wind.)

Okay, I’m a dork.  A dork who enjoyed her run this morning immensely.

Running up Mentally Sensitive:

Follow me, if you dare as I crawl through these bushes:

Overlooking Pacific Ocean, on my way to Top of the World:

A quick snack at Top of the World (a little less than half way in this loop):

Back in Wood Canyon for the trip back:

Elevation Profile:

Traction!

I took the ace bandage off my wrist this morning for a short run up to Top of the World and back.  The skies were blue, the weather cool and I had some traction!  Yes, when my feet hit the ground, they didn’t slide.  Beautiful.  No ice, no snow, no slush.  Today’s run was a quiet little adventure.  Merely a peaceful run through the wilderness.  My calves were tight at first.  My knees ached a bit at first also.  They ached from impact injury not from repetitive-use (my left knee is scabbed up a bit).  Anyway, I’d much rather have the impact injury over repetitive-use. 

I saw plenty of hikers and runners on the trails today.  An influx of people into the sport, or perhaps signs of New Years Resolutions.   It’s all good. 

Running down into Wood Canyon:

West RidgeTrail:

Top of the World:

Today’s out-and-back:  Wood Cyn, Cholla, West Ridge to Top of the World (& back )

Setting the Clock Back to Zero

Welcome 2013. It’s nice to meet ya!

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions.  I like to look back, but only briefly.  And I like to look forward, but not too far – it freaks me out, makes me anxious.  What I do like is starting over, setting back my running log to ZERO.  I REALLY like starting over.  Monday has always been “start over day” for me.  But in reality, every single day is start over day (in that sense, every single hour is start over hour, every second is start over second.)  A new year though, brings out the strongest sense of a new beginning. Starting a new running spreadsheet with zero recorded, really makes that hit home.   I feel I have a blank slate, not only with running, but in life.  I have more lessons to learn, opportunities to grow.

This morning I woke for the first run of the year.  It took me five days to get out a run in 2013 because we are still in “celebration” mode here.  The boys are on Christmas vacation, as am I.  We took in a few hikes, some good food, etc.  It seemed so long since I ran, it almost felt like I wasn’t a runner.  Nah.  I knew all I had to do was get those feet moving and I’d be on my way up the mountain.  That’s how I did it this morning, one foot in front of the other, up Maple Springs Road, then The Main Divide to Modjeska Peak, for an 18+ mile out-and-back.  And what an adventure it was.  The mighty mountain taught me a few lessons, and beat me up quite a bit in the process.

What fun!

The run up Maple Springs Road was lonely and beautiful.  It was cold, with spots of snow here and there.  The creek ran slightly heavier than usual.  I bundled up to keep warm, wearing two pairs of shorts, two warm shirts, a beanie and gloves, plus my new compression socks which surprisingly do a terrific job keeping my legs warm. 

A pristine creek crossing on Maple Springs:

Admiring moss covered rock along the way:

Very quickly, the road filled with snow and ice.  At first it wasn’t thick, but it was tremendously icy.  I learned almost immediately to run the trail edges, to stay in the white stuff.

white stuff (fluffy snow):  good

white stuff (chunky snow or with vegetation poking through):  good

Slushy mud: okay

ice:  bad, very bad

black ice:  (that is clear ice that you can’t tell is ice):  downright evil!

I met three mountain bikers making their way up Maple Springs.  One of them rode right up.  The other two struggled as I did, slipping and sliding, finding our way to make it through the terrain.  Two dirt bikers also passed by, and one of them slid so closely to me, I fretted for a second he was going to run me over, perhaps knock me off the mountain.

Gradually, more mountain bikers made their way up, the majority struggling.  And gradually I got my groove, having slipped several times, I made pretty good time “staying in the white.”  That is running in the fluffy snow that lined the trail’s edge.  Sometimes that meant running along the cliff, other times up against the mountain wall.  

I nearly made “Four Corners” injury free.  And then it happened.  I can’t recall exactly what occurred.  But I do know that I slipped.  And then I fell.  My previously injured right wrist slammed into the ice, as did my right butt cheek.  On impact I slid haphazardly down the road, stopping when I hit the white fluffy stuff.    I pushed myself up, brushed off the snow  and continued running up to “Four Corners,” which was full of mountain bikers, and empty of snow.

With only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak, I figured I’d be running down in no time.  I fretted a little over going back down Maple Springs.  But my feet soon forgot that fret since I was now running on dirt, glorious dirt toward The Main Divide. 

It wasn’t long on The Main Divide when I hit snow again, ICY snow.  I’d run along, then the “white” would end and I’d need to run across a patch of dirt or carefully maneuver across ice to get to the fluffy white stuff.  I struggled, to say the least!

Eventually a man ran ran down The Main Divide toward me.  He must have seen the distress in my face, as this was all he said, “Stay in the white!!!”  Believe me.  I already knew that.  (But not well enough!)

I came across more mountain bikers on The Main Divide, some of them verbally worrying about the trip to Santiago Peak.  I phoned my husband (yes I got reception!) and I continued with one foot in front of the other, RUNNING.  A slow run, yes, but running nonetheless. 

Though only a mile and a half to Modjeska Peak from “Four Corners”,  I was alone for a long time.  A half mile distance probably took me fifteen to twenty minutes.  And then suddenly and surprisingly two other runners ran down The Main Divide toward me.  What a surprise!  We chatted trails together, exchanged names, and turned out, I knew one of them.   I am “virtual” friends with Self Inflicted.  Imagine that, we meet on a snowy mountain on a cold winter morning, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (funny thing is, I saw Self Inflicted’s run posted on Facebook and thought, “Too bad the meeting place is so far away, else I’d probably go.”)  Funny. 

Self Inflicted and Eric:

After departing Self Inflicted and Eric, the snow and ice thickened a great deal.  I ran down the middle “in the white stuff” when it ended, I found my way to more fluffy snow.  But due to a second’s loss of focus (YES, A SECOND!) I found myself running on black ice.  BAM!  My left knee slammed into that ice so hard, the first thing that crossed my mind was BROKEN KNEE CAP.  The solid smooth black ice broke and tore at my skin, drawing blood.  Instantly after the knee impact, my left wrist slammed down, allowing the ice to tear a chunk of skin off my palm. 

I could not move for a moment.  I had to get my “wits,” get some air back into my lungs.  Laying there on the ground I saw several mountain bikers slipping their way uphill, one of them straight toward me.  “I can’t move,” I said to him.  He continued heading straight toward me.  I didn’t realize that he couldn’t control his direction.  “I can’t move,” I said again (I really could not), but then realized that was moot.  I kind of slithered to the side as he slowed and made his way by me.  Several other cyclists came up behind him, all asking if I was okay.  I said that I just needed to get my “wind.”  But I stood up anyhow, so that they could see and be on their way without worry. 

Surprisingly, I was able to walk with minimal pain.  And even more surprisingly, I ran the last quarter or mile or so to Modjeska Peak.

Modjeska Peak was under direct sunlight and void of snow.  Santiago Peak from a far looked snowless, but I knew that trail up was shady and would be icy and snow filled as well.   I ran to the edge of Modjeska, past the small cluster of towers and took in the majestic views as a Sheriff’s helicopter hovered above.

View of Santiago Peak from Modjeska Peak:

Some self-portraits from Modjeska:

I headed back down The Main Divide cautiously, but confident.  Mountain bikers making their way up, questioned me about the terrain, and I honestly told them, “It’s icy, it’s difficult.”  Some of them turned around.  Some of them made the trek.  And some of them made the trek to turn around a little later and meet me on the way down.

I met some more familiar faces from today’s adventure at “Four Corners.”  They headed down Harding Truck Trail on their mountain bikes, and I ran onward down Maple Springs.  I was an expert at running this snowy ice by now.  Don’t get me wrong.  I wasn’t cocky.  I ran yes, but I was cautious, and I focused. When I ran the snow-free, sunny part of the mountain I experienced pure joy.  What would have normally been hard was a relief.  And I thought, “Isn’t this just how life is?  You go through the hard parts, then later, other times don’t seem so tough.” 

With about 4 miles remaining, my knee ached pretty badly.  I didn’t want to take any ibuprofen however (for reasons that I may or may not bore you with later).  With about three miles remaining, hikers making their way up began asking me (again and again, seriously) “How far til the end?????” 

I thought to myself, “The end?  Where’s the end?”  I didn’t want to be a smart ass, so I asked, “The end of the paved road?”  They would say “Yes,” and I looked at my garmin and told them with a smile.  And as I ran that terribly long last couple miles in, I lamented on where’s  the end?  Is it “Four Corners?”  Is it Modjeska Peak?  Santiago Peak?  Ortega Highway? Heck you could keep going around the world and end up exactly where you’re at, and that’s the end.  When the last couple (a man and woman) asked me how much longer until the end, I had the urge to respond, “You are at the end.  You are at the beginning and at the end.” But I did not respond such.  Instead, I glanced at my garmin and told them, “two miles.” 

TIPS:  Where to run in snow & ice . . .

In this picture, don’t dare take a step on the sides of the shot, run right down the middle:

The middle of the road may look safe, but beware – it’s ice.  Run the far edges here:

Don’t even touch that brown snowy stuff on the left, it may be slushy, which is okay, but you are bound to hit a patch of ice, and down you will go!  Run the right.

Stay in the white fluffy stuff:

Do not even step on this stuff (background toward edge is okay), but the rest will send you flying!:

Again, the white fluffy stuff, that is key:

Happy New Year!!

It is done

Well, 2012 is about over.  My running goal of hitting 2,012 miles is complete.  Though I have left so many things undone (yes, I’m a perfectionist and expect way more from myself than I can deliver), I did deliver my running mileage.  Friends and family have been overly congratulatory for my success.  Funny thing is, I don’t feel especially successful over this mileage.  But I won’t get into all that psychology right now.  Success of the 2,012 miles isn’t what I take to heart.  What I love most about the 2,012 miles are the experiences, the times spent in the moment, and most of all the friends I’ve run with and met on the run. 

I ran my fewest races this year in my short running career.  But what a year it has been – a blessed running year.  I ran with Steve, Conrado, Dave, Hank, Alison, John, Janine, Jeremy, Mark, Greg, Daniel, Robert, Michael, Sherree, Jessica, Cody, Cris, Kelly, Judi, Matt, Lisa, Patty, Kurt R., Kurt E., to name just a few.  I ran in the desert, on the beach, in the mountains, in the coastal hills and I bushwhacked.  I ran in 107 degree weather, in the snow, in freezing weather, in hail and in rain.  I ran on dirt, on sand, on rocks; I ran on asphalt, and in the mud.  I’ve fallen at least half a dozen times.  I’ve broken skin, nails, even a crown, but thankfully no bones.  I had plantar fasciitis, throbbing toes.  I’ve been lost, I’ve run off the trail and I’ve broken at least three cameras.  I’ve gone through hundreds of dollars in Nuun tablets and gels.  I discovered KT tape.  I DNF’d for the first time since 2010, and I lived through it.  I ran up on bobcats, weasels, tarantulas, beetles, snakes, birds like Blue herons and Road Runners, scrawny coyotes, and big scary ones, deer, and even prior students.  I’ve cried on the trail, I’ve laughed, I’ve cussed and threw mini-tantrums, but best off all I’ve hollered with joy.  (I’ve also written too many blogs to count, but I am oh, so VERY thankful to the 12,000+ visits in 2012 from 75 countries – love you! and all 50 states plus the District of Columbia in the U.S. – how lucky am I?)

Oh what a running year 2012 has been – all 2,014 miles of it.  Yes, I ran 2 miles past my goal.  I woke this morning feeling like I was in a car accident.  Though I felt fine after my running fall yesterday, this morning, my shoulders throbbed.  Heck my upper body overall ached.  So, I skipped out on an early morning mountain group run that I very much wanted to attend.  The aches and pains nearly vanished by the afternoon.  At two o’ clock, I finally made it out for my last run of the year.  I drove to the closest trail head and ran a 6+ mile out-and-back up one of my favorite trails – Meadows.  This trail was perfect to end 2012.  It reminded me of my old running friend, Tom F., who taught me so much about trails, and without his urging I would have never attempted to actually RUN up Meadows.  And yes, today, I RAN up Meadows, despite the elevation gain you see below.   (Thanks Tom!)

Trails open, despite “wet & muddy conditions.”  Wood Canyon:

This year’s last pose at the Meadows Trailhead:

Meadows turning green in the wintertime:

Climbing Meadows:

Still climbing Meadows, Saddleback Mountains in the far background:

A quick pose over the Pacific Ocean (top of Meadows Trail):

Precisely on the trail when I hit 2,012 miles:

Today’s profile:

Closing In

I’m closing in on 2,012 miles for the year.  I’m getting a little beat-up and battered from falls, and I’m not dropping any pounds from the body.  BUT gosh darn it, I’m gonna hit that mileage goal.  And I’m having fun doing it.

It stormed all day yesterday.  Several runners dropped out of today’s scheduled group run for a 17 mile loop in Silverado Canyon.   Four adventurous runners did join me however, for a beautiful loop up Maple Springs Road to Four Corners, along the Main Divide, down Silverado Motorway back to Maple Springs.

The run was delightful.  Snow covered the ground in some places.  In other places, we slipped about on ice. I eventually fell on “black” ice and screamed like a little girl.  Seriously, like a little girl.  I was more stunned than anything else, and a little worried about my sunglasses as they crashed to the hard ice.

Views while climbing Maple Springs (a 7.5 mile ascent):

Time to celebrate at Four Corners:

Left to right:  Me, Janine, Hank, Dave, Conrado:

Moving on along The Main Divide:

Every time I run this loop (which is seldom), I’m always confused just when the Motorway trailhead is going to spring upon us.  It’s like that, suddenly there.  But until then, we’ve got climb after climb, plus some lovely down hills for several miles before we get there.  I think I told everyone today at least 3 times, maybe more (doh!) that “it’s just around the corner.”  New running friend Janine joked, “You say that one more time, I’m going to throw you off the mountain.” 

I hollered with joy when we finally reached The Motorway.  From there it was all downhill (except for that one little hill – LOL).  I took up the rear as usual, then got caught further behind when I needed to duck into the bushes.  Then, as I raced down trying to catch the group, I ate it BIG TIME.  When I say “big time,” I don’t mean that I was terribly hurt.  But I couldn’t fall and roll, which would have meant a lighter impact, for fear that I’d roll right off that single track and off the mountain.  Instead, I hit sprawled-out, face down, landing first on my wrists, then my knees.  I also remember my left elbow slammed down to the ground.  The impact was hard and it jolted me a bit.  Fortunately, I recovered fairly quickly and was off again, my ankle slightly aching from a roll as I went down.

Overall, today’s run was fantastic – great company, scenic views, chilly weather.  A true delight!

Running down the Silverado Motorway:

+4,386 / -4,409’