Last Run Before The Big Run

Last night I dreamt that I was running, and running, and running, and running.  I woke every other hour, and went back to sleep to do some more running.  Just before I woke this morning, I couldn’t pick up my pace as I ran single-track trails, though I tried and tried.  And then, every dozen steps or so, I lost all coordination.  It was like I forgot how to run – I couldn’t put the pieces together.  I’d finally figure it out, start running again, then WHAM, I’d lose my coordination again! 

I was dang tired when I woke.

Today I got in a leisurely single-digit run with a friend who recently moved to Colorado.  Lisa (Mom to Marathon) was here with her family on spring break, staying a mere mile or so from my home.  So, we got a chance to run trails together once again.  I can’t think of a better way to spend my last run before the big run.  We chatted the entire time, running rolling hills and a technical descent down Rock It.  It was over before I knew it. 

Now is the time to just sit and wait.

Comfy

I go about my day as usual.  You would never know by looking at me that I feel like a deer caught in the headlights.  Frozen, about to be mowed over unless I MOVE. 

I don’t even want to get out there and run this week.  Why?  Because I’m scared.  Silly lady.  What’s to be scared of?  I never really thought about it.  I just went with the fear.  Pondering a reason just now, I suppose I’m scared of running because I’m irrationally afraid that I’ll find that I can’t run, that there’s some last minute thing that I didn’t learn or think about.  And now it’s too late. 

Is that crazy or what?  I kind of knew that I was crazy with the enormous runs that I take on (when I’m not even really a runner ).   But, I didn’t think that I was this kind of crazy.

This morning, I cast my fears aside and went for another single digit run.  It took everything I had to get out on the trails.  It’s too cold, I told myself.  I’m too tired.  I have too much to do . . .

I took off down into Wood Canyon a little chilly yes.  But, the thing I noticed most was how comfortable I felt.  Comfy, like cozy, and oh so relaxed and confident.  That’s so not me.   What a great taper gift!

Los Pinos Peak

I think I prefer the odd goals that I conjure up, over training for long distance endurance races.  A 50k or 50 miler not only tries my body, but more so, they try my soul.  During these runs (and training for them) I must fight the toughest battle – the battle against myself, against those awful voices that nag, nag, nag.  It’s simply terrible.

On the other hand, a couple months ago, I decided to attempt Mount Everett’s elevation gain every month with my running.  That brought me great enjoyment – a goal that can be achieved in tiny steps.  I did it in February, will probably accomplish the task for March. 

I came up with another goal the last time I ran to Santiago Peak (actually, I kind of stole the idea from Jessica Deline, after she saw the photo of my feet on the peak’s surveyor’s mark).  Consequently, this new adventure consists of collecting peaks in my runs (and taking a photo of my feet on the surveyor's stamp as proof.)

Anyway, as I continue my wind down for Old Goat 50, which is precisely one week away, I feel relaxed.  At the same time, I am terrified.  I am terrified of Old Goat.  I fear the battle.  But, I am relaxed over doing my own thing in running now that “training” has ended – as I did on this cool March morning.

During this morning’s single digit run, I sought out Los Pinos Peak for peak #2.  I parked high up the mountain (in Blue Jay) and  headed up the Main Divide well before the San Juan 50k runners would be making their way up the same truck trail.  I did a run/hike combo and found that I made the exact time as when I did a power hike for the whole 1.5 miles. Hiking power continues to amaze me. 

Traversing the Main Divide:

At the Trabuco/Main Divide fork, there’s another prong to the fork, obscured by vegetation and fallen tree trunks.  That fork belongs to the Los Pinos Trail.  Rather than bushwhack, I hopped some turquoise colored posts and made my way to the trailhead.  Then I commenced to run up and down (mainly up) a gorgeous Los Pinos (The Pines) trail. 

My tortuous Mentally Sensitive repeats did me good today.  I found these mainly-up-rolling-hills amazingly easy (as easy as running trails can get anyway).  The views were immense, my home county obscured with thick clouds.  These are the trails that leave the world behind.

Before I knew it I arrived at the peak, or so I figured.  It appeared as if everything else was downhill from there.  Well, I looked around and thought, “Where can the mark be?”  Surveyor’s plaques are never in the middle of the trail.  And at Santiago Peak, it’s at the top of a pile of rocks.  To my left on Los Pinos trail was a natural looking pile of rocks.  I hopped up on them, glanced around.  Nothing.  And then upon closer look, I found a small circular plaque embedded in a boulder.  Without my glasses, I could barely read it.  And what I could read didn’t make sense.  But surveyor remarks don’t make sense.  I hopped around a bit more and found a larger circular plaque and was able, just at the perfect angle, to make out the words, “Los Pinos Peak.”  I had arrived. 

Los Pinos Peak:

Proof:

Peak Goof-Around Time:

On my way back down Los Pinos, I took an off-shoot that I noticed on the way up.  Since my mileage was less than expected I figured I had a couple miles to spare.  But this single-track trail descended at such a great rate that I feared it would eventually dump me out in the canyon below.  And then what a climb out that would be (surely making this run carry into the double digits)!  And so, I turned around and ran back up to the trail and made my way peacefully back to the Main Divide.  Since this portion will be the last remaining miles of Old Goat, I worked on my footing and form.  My shoes felt unbelievably comfortable.  So much so, I wished that I had trained in them. 

I met the San Juan 50k aid station trucks making their way up the Main Divide.  After stretching, I got into my truck, drove down Long Canyon Road and came upon the front runner of the San Juan 50k, Dean Dobberteen (spelling?).  I’ve seen him many times, usually the front runner.  Anyway, he made that Candy Store run that I’ve been training in TWO HOURS!!!!!  This is basically the same course (actually his was shy a mere two miles) that I finally got in less that 6.5 hours.  Wow.  (I won’t let that throw me.  He is among the best of the best.  I just want to finish, or at least try and finish). 

And such is trail running . . .

Enough of That

Today’s single digit run was a bear.  A real bear!  I began at the top of Mentally Sensitive (the closest steepest trail I know) and “ran” up and down it not three times, but FOUR times.  I had a miserable time of it on the uphills.  I practiced the fancy feet, quick technical running on the downhills. It took complete focus not to fall or trip.  The 4th trip up was brutal. Down right excruciating. 

I think that’s enough of that.  For today anyway.

I cannot wait to lay my head down and sleep.

Single Digits

It’s officially wind down time.  My next several runs will be single-digit-mileage.  Today, I took to an old favorite, an out-and-back to Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  I got some minimal climbing, seemingly endless rolling hills, cool breezes, blue skies and spring flowers in about 6.5 miles.

Though the pressure’s on, the pressure’s off – see if that makes any sense.

Heading to Top of the World:

The distant mountains – less than two weeks, I’m there!

Heading back to the truck:

I have a chance!

This morning I ran my last long run before Old Goat.  And I finally did it.  I ran the first 20ish miles of Old Goat within the cutoff time – by TWO MINUTES.  I managed this despite wardrobe issues (I layered too much on this freezing morning then had to re-pack my pack to fit everything.)  I managed this despite the fact that I dropped my gloves (my son’s gloves) and had run back (uphill) about a quarter mile until I found them.  I also managed this despite the fact that I fell (though it was a long downhill fall, it was a pillowy, soft fall with only a scratch on my shin to tell).  I also managed this despite a throbbing headache for about five miles.  I had to rethink, “Did I hit my head when I fell???”  I even managed this despite having to dig my water stash out and bury it back at the halfway point, wasting 8 minutes there.  And I also managed this despite the fact that I stopped and chatted a few minutes with two fellow lady runners who will be manning an aid station at Old Goat. 

A mantra formed in my mind early on that I repeated again and again.  I told myself, “Loosen up and pick up.”  This helped me to remember to keep my body lose and free of tension, as well as, pick up my pace, and pick up my feet.  There’s no feet shuffling allowed on this route.  Not unless I want to eat dirt.  And I don’t really like the taste of dirt.  Toward the end of my run, I gained a burst of energy when I knew that I might make the cut off time.  My mantra changed to a shorter version, “Relax and kick back.”  Relax of course referred to the loosening up.  And the kick back referred to kicking out the back, as opposed to lunging forward.  Kicking out the back makes it virtually impossible to trip.

Now, I feel as if I have a chance!

Taking off on a cold, cold morning at sunrise:

Fueling on the run: