More Practice ( and, What was I thinking??????)

I hit the Saddleback Mountains today, driving up before sunrise.  My plan:  run the correct Old Goat first 20 miles.  I had previously missed a turn onto what’s called the Viejo Tie.  And I was also ending this partial practice course on “Old” San Juan Trail instead of “New” San Juan Trail.  The Viejo Tie and the correct ending added about 2 miles to my usual route.

The campsites were full, but quiet as I ran the paved road toward San Juan Trail.  I believe I was the first runner or cyclist to show in Blue Jay.  Not a person stirred.  The weather was cold as I focused on pace, running San Juan Trail without music at first.  It’s an extremely rocky trail, my biggest fear was falling.  In fact, San Juan Trail is the location of one of my biggest trail running falls ever.  Still, I was happy that I made it to the Viejo Tie in good time. 

Running above the clouds on San Juan Trail:

The Viejo Tie added more technical trail (by-passing a milder portion of Chiquita).  So in-tuned and focused, I surprisingly caught the quick left turn I was supposed to take according to the map I closely studied last night.  I ran uphill, then downhill, then uphill, then downhill, again and again, until I worried that I took a wrong turn.  And then FINALLY, I saw it – the Viejo Tie/Chiquita Trail intersection.  At this point, I was still pleased with my time.  Not exhilarated, merely pleased.   

These twenty miles are extremely difficult for me to run.  Some parts are quite technical, at times with boulders blocking the way.  There’s tree roots and tree stumps crossing the trails.  There’s slippery sandy parts.  There’s ruts and crevices.   Thankfully, there’s also lots of shade.

I made Chiquita falls a little disappointed by my time.  But I told myself, “Don’t fret, don’t grow anxious, IT IS WHAT IT IS.”  I had finally controlled my anger over tripping on rocks.  I kinda figured it wasn’t good for the mental game if I yelled out a profanity every  time I tripped on a rock.

Running the San Juan Loop into the parking lot:

I arrived to the turnaround point across from The Candy Store 50 minutes past my best case scenario, 20 minutes past the deadline for making the entire route within the first cutoff back at Blue Jay campground.  To make matters worse, after digging my water jug out of the bushes and refilling, I accidently dumped my entire re-fill.  So, I made it back to the bushes for the jug, refilled the bladder again, dissolved Nuun tablets again, squeezed the air bubbles out again.  I spent 8 minutes at the turnaround.  I didn’t give up the idea of at least trying to make the cut-off, and kicked it in for the most difficult part of the trip.  I ran most of the time, hiked the steepest portions. 

I grew so fatigued toward the end of my climb back, I decided that when I hit the cut-off time, I was going to cut the course and head back to my truck. 

And then, my ipod battery died.  That’s when I heard the breeze.  It sounded like beautiful music to my ears.  The tree leaves rustled in the wind.  And leaves crumpled beneath the squirrels’ tiny feet as they scampered back and forth across the trails.  I didn’t want to leave the trail.  So, I decided to run the whole first part of Old Goat and not cut the course. 

In the end I came in 18 minutes past the cut-off. I’m okay with that.  I’ve got a little time.  Besides, today was the first time I ran the Viejo Tie.  Not only that, I felt good when I finished, like I could run another thirty miles. 

(Still, what was I thinking?????).

Birthday Run

I’m not much into “training.”  I’m really into trail running.  When it comes to “training”, I flail.  My confidence plummets when I “train.”  Negative self-talk sets in.  (I’m working on that problem.)

This time around, I’m just getting in the miles, best I can.  And I’m practicing sections of my upcoming race.  I like to know every ditch and boulder on the trails that I race.  That way I won’t need to look for markers.  And there’s less surprises.  (With trail running however, just like in life, it’s impossible to eliminate all surprises.) 

This morning, for my 48th birthday, I woke at 5AM, the entire household asleep, and drove up Ortega Highway into the Saddleback Mountains.  I stashed some water across the highway from The Candy Store and drove on up to Blue Jay campground (total drive = 1 hour). 

Then, on a cool weathered morning, I commenced to run approximately the first 20 miles of the 50 mile race I’m registered for next month.  I came in under the section cut-off with only minutes to spare.  That’s cutting it a bit too close for me.  But I learned lots on today’s run, mainly how to pace myself.  I also came upon the race director, Steve Harvey running with his Trans Rockies partner, Jennie (imagine my luck!!).  I told him, exasperated, “I don’t think I can make the cut-off.”  Steve hugged me and said, “You might not, but I think that you can do it.”  I believed him.  What he said is true.  I might not make the cut-off, but I CAN do it – it’s not out of reach.  To add to my luck, I got to clear up some things about the Candy Store Lollipop loop I was running.  Turns out, I’ve been taking a wrong turn about three miles in.  (Next PRACTICE run, I shall correct that).  

San Juan Trail trailhead – stooping down so that I can fit into picture frame (I cut my head off in first picture):

Chiquita Trail:

Changing socks for ankle socks near my water stash.  Across the highway is The Candy Store.  After refilling my pack, I found it very difficult to depart with my water jug.  And I spent TEN minutes here – much too long.  But that’s okay – it was a lovely time:

Heading back to Blue Jay on Chiquita (Though I believe the first picture below is part of San Juan Loop.)  The trip back is mainly uphill, quite technical and grueling beneath a warm sun:

A rock on Chiquita trail with beauty that stopped me in my tracks:

Still heading back on Chiquita:

Climbing Old San Juan Trail back to my truck:

Metrics Smetrics

In the U.S., unless you participate in a sport like running, cycling or swimming, you talk and think in miles. Yes, we are probably the only country in the world that hasn’t switched to the metric system. And chances are we probably never will (except for in running, cycling and swimming). We are that stubborn.  Wait, I take that back, I think some screwdrivers are measured in metrics, as are pencil leads. ANYWAY, when talking with my non-running friends and family, they don’t give a dang whether I say 30 kilometers or 30 miles. To them, 30 KILOMETERS IS 30 MILES – and that’s that. I used to correct my friends, “No, it was 50 kilometers, NOT 50 miles.” But that did no good.  “I can’t believe you ran 50 miles!!!”

When I tell someone I ran 50 kilometers, they will forever think that I ran 50 miles. In fact, just this past weekend, we had a little party for my son’s birthday. My sister-in-law, who is a runner and understands distance in kilometers, asked me about the Calico race (a 30k). I told her about it, trying to make the stories as humorous as possible. I got some good laughs. Others in the room (including my husband, who is a bright man) went on about the fact that I ran 30 MILES. I did not correct them. Why? Because I have finally realized why my non-running family and friends refuse to acknowledge the kilometer in my running distances – it is due to the fact that 30k (or approximately 19 miles) is the same as 30 miles to a non-runner. They are not stupid. To them, it’s merely, “19 . . . 30, what’s the difference?  Both are hard as hell.”  And they are right.

This morning I ran 13.23 trail miles (or 21.29 km).  The weather was cool.  The skies were blue.  I ran a negative spit, but as you can see from the profile below, I ran lots of downhill for the second half.  Still, I found it quite difficult to keep my pace up for the second half.  During the final mile, I found my trail friend A-Rod heading out for the trails.  He told me he pretty much got hood-winked (my words) into running the LA Marathon.  His mouth dropped when I told him what I was training for.  “It will be by the grace of God if I finish,” I said.  “Way to go, Sista,” he said, we high-fived (slapped each other’s hands) and were off our separate ways.  I arrived to my car fatigued, but not a zombie, and stretched for a long ten minutes before heading home. 

The Run:

My ritual pose at Meadows Trail:

The mountains in the distance that I will attempt to conquer in a 50 mile increment (in a little more than a month away):

Climbing Mentally Sensitive:

Heading toward Top of the World:

Descending into Wood Canyon:

Finally!

Back on the trails . . .

Where is that Crazy Trail Running Lady?

One of the last things I wrote was I needed to put in the mileage – I needed time on my feet to get ready for Old Goat.  That was my last entry, almost one week ago. 

Then the phone started ringing.  Our district has a shortage of substitutes apparently, and I can’t rightly refuse work in this financial struggle we’re experiencing in California (not everyone, but a lot of people I know are suffering). 

Perhaps you wonder then, why not run after school?  Well, after I substitute, I have my regular evening job.  I don’t get home until 6 or 7.  By then, I can’t run local trails.  They are closed.  I can’t run mountain trails (driving time is too long) and I wouldn’t dare run in the mountains at night alone. 

But I will roll with the punches (which carry cash with them), and . . .

let me tell you . . . I’ve had the experiences that I could have not imagined over the past week.  I’ve substituted “severe” special education in middle school, and laughed with joy during “Fun Friday” when the students got to karaoke for a couple hours.  I also subbed for “severe” special education in our Transitions Program.  Transitions is 4 additional years of school for moderate to severally “handicapped” (disabled) students.  I boarded a school bus and met two students at the local junior college.  I stayed with them for about 4 hours in their adaptive physical education classes.  I knew one of the students from a high school sub assignment last year.  It was a wonderful reunion.  He pretended to know me.  I was thrilled.  Then he said that he really didn’t remember, and I laughed and laughed.  He was a great chap.  We became good pals.  The other student was amazing physically.  During track time, I was so stunned by his speed, I mentioned to the coach that he should be in some running sport.  The coach, though a friendly guy, “blew me off.”

I also subbed a second grade class of thirty something students and no aid.  They were precious.  But the job was so difficult, an hour in, I text’d my husband, “OMG.”  I thought, “Never again!”  Then I got a call the next day for first grade.  I took it.  How can I refuse work????  It helps pay the mortgage, it buys music lessons for the boys, it buys shoes . . .

Mama Mia!!!!  Can you imagine how difficult it is to get 30+ first graders’ attention at once?  If not, I can tell you:  It’s impossible.  I am so not an elementary teacher.  I am high school.  Then to top the first grade day off, the regular teacher wrote me that she promised “dodge ball” for the last hour.  The children cheered!  And I lead them out to the pavement, thinking, “Easy hour.” 

Ends up, I had no less than ten children injured and crying at some point during that game.  I don’t know elementary protocol.  I don’t know what’s allowed.  And so, I treated them as my own children and hugged them until their tears dried.  (I don’t think I will ever again play dodge ball with a group of youngsters). 

I reserved today (Friday) for running.  I received three job opportunities (for kindergarten!).  I declined.  Then it rained all day long.  Locally, snow level is supposedly down to 3,000’ (And I am so jealous).  Anyway, due to the downpour, I ran no miles.  I slept instead. 

The quote Steve Harvey put at the end of his Old Goat Race instructions kept running through my mind all week.  “You get to the start line of an Ultra on physical ability, but you get to the finish  on character!”  At first, this quote gave me great comfort.  I figured maybe character will carry me through.  Then  as the days went by, the quote fell in stature.  I started doubting my character, and began thinking that I’d never cross the finish line based on character!  The weird things that an upcoming ultra puts you through . . . LOL.

Okay, here’s the facts:  I’ve got ZERO miles logged thus far this week. I teach a 6 1/2 hour adult course tomorrow (Saturday).  When I come home I am baking a cake (so I won’t be running).  The next day is my middle son’s birthday.  So, it is likely that this week’s tally will equal a big fat zero.  I refuse to fret over this however.  I’ve already planned to mark myself “unavailable” for Monday, and I shall go from there – ONWARD. 

(1st Image courtesy of hin255 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net, 2nd Image courtesy of worradmu at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.)

The BIGGER Loop

Okay, I know that’s lame.  I contemplated a great deal over what to name today’s loop, but came up with nothing.  This is the best I’ve got (at least until I run this loop again).  What loop?  The second portion of the Old Goat 50 miler that I’m running at the end of March.  The first twenty miles is The Candy Store run that I’ve posted recently.  The second portion of this race is a 30 mile loop that takes runners up The Main Divide, down Trabuco, up Holy Jim  to Santiago Peak, then back, mainly via The Main Divide (in the Saddleback Mountains).

I posted this run in my running club and 3 other runners showed for a shorter loop which took them up the infamous West Horsethief.  We ran together for the first 6 or 7 miles.  The weather was cool, perfectly cool.  And the skies were blue. 

Top of Trabuco/Main Divide (Me an utter goofball, Alyx, Tory, Jessica Deline RD of Twin Peaks and The Harding Hustle):

View of Santiago Peak from Trabuco:

Running Trabuco:

The Departure, and I’m not weeping over missing W. Horsethief:

Once we split, I’m sure my pace slowed.  I run faster when I run with others.  Though I enjoyed the earlier company, now I enjoyed the solitude. I came across several friendly hikers.  And I put a great deal of effort into not thinking about the past or future.  I succeeded pretty well, and of course, that’s when I ran my best. 

I have not run Holy Jim since I DNF’d the Saddleback Marathon this past November.  I have not run to Santiago Peak since Twin Peaks Ultra (October).  I’ve been avoiding these trails I think, due to a fear lurking in the back of my mind.  A fear over the difficulty.  A fear over mental defeat.  Holy Jim is where I gave up the mental battle during the Saddleback Marathon.  Santiago Peak, well, I have a mental defeat just about every time I run those last 2.5 miles. 

Nonetheless, my run into Holy Jim was lovely.  The weather remained cool.  The skies grew a little cloudy.  And the trails were “spring” green with moss and ferns heavily dotting the landscape.

Ending up Trabuco:

Spotting a rare candy rock :

In the Holy Jim parking lot, I traipsed through the brush to locate the fresh water that my son and I stashed yesterday afternoon.  I felt a little like Katniss from The Hunger Games.  Just like in The Hunger Games, water is the number one commodity in trail running (calories being number 2, which I had plenty of).  Though I wasn’t particularly thirsty (I had just gone through 60 fluid ounces on the trip there), my mouth practically watered when I pulled out one of the hidden jugs.  I set it on a log, unpacked some calories and refilled my hydration pack to the brim.  That water looked so beautiful and precious to me, I was tempted to pour it over my head and shower in it.  But alas, the weather was too cool for such an act.  So, I hid the jug back among the others and headed up Holy Jim. 

Holy Jim was a bear, yes, but not a grizzly bear.  I found the 5 mile climb laborious, but enjoyable.  It was like meeting up with an old friend (one of life’s greatest treats).  On the way up Holy Jim, I devised a plan to conquer the final 2.5 mile ascent to Santiago Peak.  I decided I would use those couple miles to “rest-up.”  Instead of struggling by running up that thing, I chose to hike it.  In fact, I forbade myself to run any portion of it, EXCEPT the flat part that reaches only about a tenth mile. 

A Stream Crossing on Holy Jim:

Hiking the last couple miles to Santiago Peak:

That’s not me on the motorcycle:

A view from the summit:

Standing on the Summit:

I only lost about ten minutes hiking to the peak instead of attempting to run it.  That’s a lot of time for only 2.5 miles.  HOWEVER, I felt relaxed.  The ascent was still difficult.  But I never grew angry.  I didn’t bash myself (that is fill my brain with negative self-talk).  I reached the peak delighted.  And on my trip down, I felt stronger than usual.  I think I’m going to work on this approach more. 

The next three miles back down were good.  The final ten miles were an utter struggle.  I ran most of them, and when I found myself trying to run ridiculous inclines, I forced a fast hike (as fast as I could manage anyhow).

Today’s training run:  Success, even though The Bigger Loop took me quite a bit longer than I hoped.  At least I know where I stand (or run), and have a time to work with. 

I feel like time is fleeting.  But I will not fret.  Time on my feet, that’s my goal this month.  Putting in the miles!