Twin Peaks Ultra 2013 Cancelled

Due to the government shutdown (U.S. that is!), and the fact that the Twin Peaks Ultra is run in national forest, it has been cancelled.

I feel sorry for those who trained.  But I feel sorry most for the race director.  I can’t imagine putting that much work into something just to have it shut down mere days beforehand.

That’s all I have to say about that . . . for now.

Biding Time

Back to Day One on my Fitness Streak.  I’m just biding time, taking it easy with some fun workouts.  Late this morning, I took off into Wood Canyon for a run, first to the Top of the World overlooking the grand Pacific Ocean.

Though I didn’t work it super hard, I got in some decent elevation gain.  I ran to enjoy myself, and to sweat too.  I didn’t criticize myself once.  I just didn’t think about my progress or performance.  I simply ran. 

I ran down Rockit, which is always a blast.  One false step, and there’s a good chance blood will flow.  This trail not only offers adventure, but great views as well.  I stopped a couple times to take in trails I knew from afar – they look so different from another perspective.

From Rockit, I turned left on Coyote Run, another beauty. 

And I sat on a bench beneath a tree that I’ve run past dozens and dozens of times.

Then I grew really silly, and decided to climb that tree.  I crawled up a meaty branch that was so heavy that it sloped low to the ground.  Before reaching the main trunk, I had risen to about ten feet above the ground, and I was sure to grind my knees into the rugged branch before making my next move up toward the trunk. 

Finally I grabbed onto the trunk, now two main trunks reaching upward.  I was elated to make it safety.  Then I stood there for a while, taking in my quiet surroundings, including the same mountain biker race by two times.  There he is:

As long as I stood between the crook of two branches I felt safe:

It’s when I ventured upward that I grew anxious and worried that I might fall.  I hugged onto the trunk tightly:

When I was a child I climbed trees, and never worried that I might fall out of one.  In fact, I remember falling out of a plumb tree when I was quite young.  I skinned my knees up badly, and cried all the way home.  But I was never seriously hurt.  I used to climb as high as I could get, never concerned how I might get down.

Today, I looked for a way down with every foot that I climbed upward.  And pretty quickly, I came to a point, that I figured I would not be able to climb back down.  I’m not a child any more.  I may act like one.  But I’m 48.  And so, I made my way, carefully, back down the tree.  When it came to crawling back down that long, heavy branch, I grew quite hesitate.  Ten feet above the ground, I figured I could make the jump instead of making the crawl.  In fact, I knew that I could, because I have made such a jump in a marine obstacle race down in San Diego.  Back then though, I had runners climbing up behind me, and I had to jump.

Today, no runners climbed up behind me forcing me to jump.  So, I looked for another route down.  Another branch, just a short bit away, thick enough to get a good enough grip on, ran parallel to mine.  If I grabbed onto that branch, my feet would hang only about five feet from the ground – an easy jump.  I warned myself that my weight was going work on tearing my grip from the branch.  I told myself before reaching for the branch, “No matter what, HANG ON!”. 

Well, it’s been too long I guess.   I didn’t take into account that when I grabbed onto the branch and let my legs fall from the one upon which I stood, I WOULD SWING.  Yikes.  Try holding onto a tough-barked branch, swinging back and forth wildly.  “Hang on!”  I warned myself.  I knew that if I lost my grip, there was a pretty dang good chance that I’d land on my back.  Don’t want to land on my back!!!!  DO NOT WANT TO LAND ON MY BACK.  So, I held on, swinging back and forth.  It felt like the bark tore the skin from my hands.  But I held on, because it was too important not to.  When I stopped swinging I quickly dropped to the ground and laughed out loud.  What a dang silly lady I am.   

I dusted myself off and ran off to another beautiful trail, Wood Creek.  Escaping the moment (not good while trail running), but I was still thinking about the tree adventure, I came head-to-head with another runner.  We scared the wits out of each other.  She clutched her chest.  I let out a yelp.  Then we both giggled and passed each other in the forestl.  About five minutes later, I stood less than ten feet away from a doe.  She stood still as a statute.  And I let her just stand there while taking in her presence.

I need to do “biding time” runs more often.    Happy Running!!

Wood Creek:

Today’s Profile:

Me and Twin Peaks

The Twin Peaks Ultra is less than one week away.  It’s the same old story with me, except this time much worse.  I am in NO WAY prepared for this event.  My summer training went badly.  To begin, I started off with twenty extra pounds (that’s extra upon extra).  My lofty ideas of trimming down and getting in tip-top shape did not materialize.

Sure I had some terrific times on the trails this summer. But that heat really, really wiped me out.  Right now, I would say that it demoralized me.  Then I had the emergency helicopter incident.  My plantar fasciitis flared up.  And I had to run those rugged, scorching hot trails by myself. 

So, it’s done.  Training’s over.  I can’t prepare myself anymore than I am for Saturday’s race (which may not occur if the federal government does not open).  I assure you that I’m going to drag myself out of bed and get to the start line for a 4:30 AM start, and make my way up and down that mountain.  I’m not even going to try for the 50 miles.  Instead, I’ll take the 50k option at about mile 21.

I’m not even tempted to DNS Twin Peaks, even with the sometimes excruciating pain radiating from my heal.  Fortunately I’ll have a good ten miles without that pain, hopefully more since I’ve been treating the PF at home.

Why not consider a DNS (Did Not Show)?  Because I love Twin Peaks.  I really do.  I now have a short on-going relationship with Twin Peaks that I just don’t want to break.  From the moment of my first experience with this race, I knew that it was something grand – something that I wanted to be a part of, even if it was as a spectator.  Those runners, they were all heroes to me.  And the volunteers, they were like angels.

My first experience with Twin Peaks was in 2010.  I volunteered and worked the Indian Truck Trail aid station.  The experience absolutely blew my mind.  I had never been in the midst of such an event.  Seriously, I thought, that I wouldn’t ever be able to even consider running such a thing.  Still, after Twin Peaks 2010, I wanted more.

In 2011, my friend, Hank, asked me to pace him for Twin Peaks.  I trained on those trails like crazy all summer because I was so afraid to fail him.  I got to run the last twenty miles of the fifty mile course with my friend.  The experience was awe-inspiring.  Still, I knew that I could never attempt such a wondrous thing as Twin Peaks.  I did know that after Twin Peaks 2011, I was not finished with this event!

Finally, in 2012, on a whim, I registered or Twin Peaks.  I had a terrific time training, met new friends.  I developed my first case of Plantar Fasciitis.  Still, I felt pretty strong leading up to Twin Peaks.  I went into the race with the attitude that I was going for the 50 miles; I would not take the 50k option.  It was 50 miles or DNF.  Turned it, it was not my day for the 50 miles, and I relented and opted for the 50k option.  I earned my medal and I met more new friends, one of them, a continued friend, Emmett Rahl.  (Emmett and I would later go on to attempt the Old Goat 50 together).  I think that Twin Peaks 2012 sealed my fate – somehow, someway, I was going to continue to be part of of this crazy thing. 

So, here I am now, 2013, I really had no intentions of running Twin Peaks earlier in the year.  I had just lost too much conditioning to consider it. But then predictably, I could not let it go.  So once again, on a whim, I registered.  And so I wait, my Twin Peaks 2013 story still unwritten.   

Autumn’s Official–Crawdads, Dragonflies & Sparrows

I’ve been icing and taping, rolling and icing my right foot.  Prognosis did not look good last week.  In fact, it appeared pretty grim.  My limp was becoming chronic, and I could not get out of bed in the morning without dragging my aching foot around the house. 

After hitting day 40 of my fitness streak, I took 2 days off and tended to personal business.  I did continue in-home physical therapy and began the first couple days of my new fitness streak at the gym.  Day 3, this morning I woke fully able to walk around the house. 

Time for a run?  I hoped so, because I was gonna run. 

And what a glorious run!  Yup, I was SLOW.  And yup, my foot hurt, but just a tiny bit. 

One of the best parts of today’s nearly 11 miles was climbing Mentally Sensitive.  I didn’t die!  Then I found a secret clubhouse built buried in my regular bushwhacking route off that trail.  It was recently built (dugout), complete with a wooden skateboard to sit upon, nailed to roots growing on top of the dirt. 

Nearing the top of Mentally Sensitive:

Another great part of today’s run was sighting my first crawdad.  No doubt, that’s a crawdad in the picture below – autumn is here!

Then on my final stretch in, I ran amongst dozens and dozens of dragonflies dodging and shooting across my path.  Above them dozens or more of those tiny, delightful sparrows so popular in our parts.  They dashed about the skies just above the dragonflies, quick as hummingbirds.  I looked about in awe, with an urge to yell out to everyone in the park, “Look!  Look at this!!!”  I felt so lucky to be a part of it.

Windy Peak

Red Flag Warning today, which means high fire risk.  This warning means that state parks and (probably) county parks would be closed.  On the other hand, all national parks and forests are closed as well, due to the “Government Shut-Down.”

BUT . . . the gate was open:

The wind blew so strongly, a fine mist of dirt flew through the air.  Branches littered the road as I drove into the canyon.  I thought seriously about not doing this run.  After I witnessed a caravan of cars come into the Holy Jim lot, and twenty or so hikers enthusiastically jump out for a hike up to the peak, I had to give myself a good talking.  I said something to this affect:

If they can do it, YOU can do it.  MAN UP lady.  Since when did you become a sissy?  (ah, since the day I was born).  Whatcha gonna do if it’s windy like this during Twin Peaks, turnaround and drive home????  Now get to it!

And so I ran, headed up Holy Jim Trail.  I passed the group of giddy hikers early on.  They carried horns made from antlers and red colored flags from their church.  Their goal for today was to plant the flags at the peak.  I’m not sure, but some seemed a tad puzzled by my less than enthusiastic attitude about climbing to the peak.

I can not remember one single joyful time climbing to Santiago Peak.  It has ALWAYS been a great struggle.  The peak itself is joyful.  And the run down has been joyful many times.  But those last three miles to Santiago Peak are rather hellish.  You could say that I don’t look forward to them, not one iota.   

This morning, my climb up Holy Jim, even in this wicked wind was delightful.  Protected by trees, the wind hardly affected me.  And the dirt didn’t fly up into my eyes except during exposed portions of Holy Jim.  From behind, I could hear the cheers, laughter and horns blowing from hiking group below.

My beautiful Holy Jim:

The gnats could not fly in this wind, this glorious wind.  And this wind that I feared so much at the beginning of this morning’s run kept me nice and cool.  But then I hit The Main Divide.  I hadn’t heard the hikers or their horns for quite some time.  My strategy for those last 3 miles were:  run when I can, hike when I can’t – but never stop!  And that was just what I did.  The trip wasn’t too terrible, but it was TOUGH. 

I met two hikers coming down from the peak.  As we spoke, they said, “It’s windy up there.  You know, it’s really windy . . .  It’s super windy.”

“Okay, it’s windy,” I laughed to myself and wished them well for the trip down.

Ah . . . did I mention the two hikers said it was windy at the peak?  They told no lie.  They certainly didn’t exaggerate.  The wind blew my cap off my head, it pushed me forward and back.  It was deliriously fun.  I felt like a child again, giggling and playing in the wind.  On my way out, I saw my running friend (an awesome runner, wise and humble), Scott B.  This is the second time semi-recently I’ve seen him on this mountain.  Big coincidence if you ask me.  I run up from the Orange County side, he runs up from the Riverside side.  I’m sure I’ve already mentioned that I love, love, love seeing friends out-of-the-blue in the mountains.

Santiago Peak:

By the time I headed down from Santiago Peak, my heel hurt so badly, I gingerly ran to avoid my heel landing on rocks.  After a mile down, I began coming across some of the church hikers.  With smiles on their faces, they pleaded, “How much longer?”  The group was spread out over the next mile.  Of course they were struggling, who doesn’t struggle going up to Santiago Peak, especially for the first time?  I assured some of the church-goers that shade was close by.  And that soon they’d be over the worst of it.  They certainly weren’t cursing or scowling, like I have been known to do once or twice on this portion (but I wasn’t today )

Anyway, Scott caught up with me pretty quickly.  His speed amazed me as he ran down the rocky terrain on The Main Divide.  We chatted some about Twin Peaks as he walked while I ran (yes, his walking pace kept up with my trot) until we departed at Upper Holy Jim.  I decided early on to take The Main Divide back instead of the more technical Upper Holy Jim.  I didn’t need any accidents, especially with the now excruciating pain radiating from my heel.

When I made it back to (lower) Holy Jim, I came upon 4 or 5 churchgoers who had decided to wait in the shade instead of making the nasty trek up.  I ran down Holy Jim, with an attempt to keep my pace up.  In all though, the wind and the dirt in my eyes, plus the heel pain really wiped me out for today’s run.  Still, I’d do it again (despite the lovely, awful wind and that great struggle to the peak).

Trail Treats

This morning I went for a trail run for the fun of it.  Yes, the fun it of it.  My choices for today were to take in the little treats along nearest trails that I have discovered over the past years.  Without using mental math, I estimated my loop would run between 8 and 10 miles.  I was hoping for ten, but that’s me, I’m a distance and elevation junkie.

I ran down into Wood Canyon, which runs about 3 miles in length.  Along Wood Canyon, there’s several opportunities to run up to the ridge that takes you to Top of the World.  I ran the first opportunity to the ridge, Cholla Trail, a short trail, but a nasty incline.  This way, I was able to run the entire ridge to Top of the World, which is a delightful rolling hill run.

Top of the World is a neighborhood in Laguna Beach that overlooks the Pacific Ocean.  It’s a particular, upper-upper class neighborhood.  But laymen like myself, refer to all the neighborhoods at the top of the ridge as Top of the World, not just that exclusive neighborhood. 

First Photographed Treat / Top of the World:

I turned around at Top of the World and ran back down West Ridge.  Instead of continuing the downhill toward Cholla, I made a right onto Mathis Trail and took it to Car Wreck Trail – a steep, rocky single track leading down into a valley where an old car wreck rests on a slope.  The run is tricky and at times treacherous with jumps steeper than I feel comfortable with.  But I made it through okay.  (At times, I admit that I slowed to a snail’s pace.  Though, I never needed to scoot along on my behind).

2nd Treat / Car Wreck Trail:

Finally, I took a trip onto Dripping Cave Trail, which I haven’t run in ages.  It’s slightly steep at first, but runnable.  After all the climbing though, you arrive to one of the best treats in the park, Dripping Cave (AKA Robber’s Cave).

3rd Treat / Dripping Cave Trail:

Sitting on a bridge along Dripping Cave for the photo op / I’m a dirty, dirty girl (the scar on my right knee I got when I was 6 years old – it’s 42 years old!):