My Lazy Twelve Miles

I woke late for a weekend run yesterday.  It was Mother’s Day in the USA.  And I got to feeling that I should stay home with my family instead of run.  I am a mother after all.  So, after dressing and packing for a run, I sat in my car with its motor running, and changed my mind about running.  I came back into the house so that I could spend the morning with my family (who were all still asleep at the time).  Fortunately my husband heard me, came out into the front room and said, “No way!  Today is your day.  You need to get out and do what you love to do.” 

And so, after an hour drive, thirty minutes of it off road, I headed up Holy Jim Trail at 8:30 in the morning this Mother’s Day.  Then I commenced to run a very lazy 12.71 miles of trail.  I write “lazy” because I really didn’t try at all.  It seemed that I didn’t put any effort into the run whatsoever.  I was there for the scenery, and enjoyed every second of it. 

The first five miles were a switch-back climb up Holy Jim.  I jumped over fallen trees and climbed beneath another.  I listened to a howling wind make its way through the canyon.  And I even took the time to stop at Holy Jim Falls.  It’s about a 1/2 mile detour off the main trail, which I rarely take because I’m usually too eager to make it to Bear Springs, the top of Holy Jim at The Main Divide.  I had a lovely time of solitude at the falls before the numerous hikers I passed along the way made their way to them.  I lost the crowds of hikers as I made my way back to the main trail and started up the big zig-zag alone.  

The wind blew so strongly along The Main Divide that I had to just stop and be there.  Wow.  It’s fierce howling made so much noise, it sounded like a jet airliner was flying close above.  I really just had to stand there (in awe!) and film this short clip so that I could show you a little of what it was like.

Beautiful Wind

I kind of liked running a lazy twelve miles.  It was no pressure, no guilt, no negative self-talk.  And I was actually able to finish strong, and that felt great.  I can’t remember the last time I was able to finish a mountain run that strong.

Miles run 12.71 (my guess was 12.63)

Better For It

Being that my regular teaching job is mainly evenings and sometimes Saturdays, I pretty much get to pick when I work during the day.  I substitute teach Kindergarten through 12th grade during the day.  Normally, I like to take as much work as I can get.  Today, I did not accept a single assignment because I wanted to hit the trails.  I have an extremely full schedule up ahead of assignments.  I gave myself a day off.  (The only advantage of not having a full-time contract). 

I ran far (12.08 miles), but not that hard.  On a total and complete whim, I took a turn out of Wood Canyon onto Coyote Run Trail.  And I back-tracked.  Yes, I back-tracked!  This is very odd and peculiar because I hate, hate, hate back-tracking.  But I had good reason (I think).  I back-tracked so that I could run up RockIt, which is also very odd and peculiar.  I have avoided running UP RockIt for quite some time.  I don’t know what exactly got into me today.  I will say that the climb was not utterly miserable.  It was quite enjoyable in fact.  I hiked when I needed to and considered that practice for Twin Peaks.   

Coyote Run:

RockIt:

I would tell you more.  But it’s probably much of the same that you’ve already read before if you’ve visited Laurenontherun prior to this.  It’s late, and I do have an assignment with an early morning start.  And so, I’ll just end with this:  I am sore after today’s run through the hills, but I am better for it – both mentally and physically.  I made some significant strides mentally.  And I think that overall, that is better than physically.

Happy running!  And thanks for reading.

When All Fails, Go To “Where The Sidewalk Ends”

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

I haven’t had much chance to run since I ended my Easter Running Streak.  I’ve been cross-training a little.  I’ve been working a lot.  This morning, I knew that I really needed to get out for a run.  It’s Wednesday after all, and I haven’t logged any miles for the week. After getting everyone fed, lunches made and the boys to school however, I had a meeting at the school district.  This was my original plan:  wear shorts, nice shorts to the meeting, but shorts nonetheless so that afterwards I can kick off my sandals, lace up some running shoes and get in my run.  I’d wear a nice summery blouse and change that in the car.  That way, I’d get some miles without wasting too much time.  But I realized this:  both of my knees have good-sized scabs on them from running falls.  Boo!  I could not go to a professional meeting with scabs on my knees.  Wearing shorts was pushing it.  But I have enough audacity to pull that off.  I don’t have enough audacity to show up with scabbed knees – not at age 49, perhaps when I was 12 attending a Girl Scout Meeting.

Okay then.  I decided to put on a pair of slacks instead and drive home to change after the meeting.  By the time I arrived home however, it was already 11 AM.    And I was tired.  Sleepy tired.  And so I took a nap.  A NAP! 

Fast forward to late afternoon, after chores and getting the boys home, I was at a loss what to do.  I didn’t want to head off to the gym again.  And I just didn’t have time to get in some trails.  I did the next best thing.  I ran out the door and alongside the ocean to where the sidewalk ends.  And then I turned around and ran back home. 

Run done.

Miles logged: 5.58 (8.98 km)

Still Not Ready

I ran my version of The Candy Store Loop once again this past Sunday.  And once again, it kicked my butt.   But I survived.  I fell only once (just a minor scrape to my uninjured knee).  I did not experience heat exhaustion, even amidst a heat wave.  And I did not run out of fluids.  I spotted a orangish-tan colored lizard that I’ve never seen in these mountains.  And I nearly stepped on a salamander.  Fortunately, I didn’t squash the critter, as Sunday, I ran with two friends (one who noticed the critter) – one new friend and one old (Nicole and Emmett).  Wait:  I must hum the tune that I used to sing in Girl Scouts so many, many, many years ago:  “Make new friends, and keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold.”

Though the elevation gain is not extreme for nineteen miles (just over 3,000’) this is one tough route.  It’s tough because of the technical aspect – rocks and boulders, and sand, and boulders, and rocks, and overgrown grass, and rocks, and boulders, and oh ya – scorching sunlight on exposed trail.  Did I mention rocks and boulders?  

But it’s all fun.  It really is.  And one of these days, I’ll finally be ready for The Candy Store Loop.

Chiquito Trail:

A Trickle at Chiquito Falls:

Salamander on the Trails:

Ocean View from Old San Juan Trail:

Chiquito Trail View:

Tired Dirty Feet back at The Candy Store (From left to right – Nicole, Me and Emmett):

Thirty Days!

Yes, I did make thirty days of my Easter Streak – ran every day for the month of April.  I got out late morning on Wednesday, April 30, in the midst of a heat wave.  And I took off up Arroyo Trabuco Trail for the final run of my streak.

My Gateway to Arroyo Trabuco Trail (in the parking lot of a strip mall in Las Flores, behind a Taco Bell & some other establishments):

The best thing about Day 30’s run was that I got shade.  Lots of it.  Oh, the glory!  What would I do without shade?

I ran through cool, dark hallways of shade for about three miles.  My goal was to run around ten miles – that way, I’d hit my “pie in the sky.”  What, you may ask, was my “pie in the sky?”  The answer: breaking 170 miles for the month.  I didn’t want to merely hit 170.  I wanted to bust through the door.  I haven’t done that in a long time. 

The coolness of these trails helped me to get my groove when I thought I wasn’t going to get my groove.  And just when I felt a comfortable confidence on these refreshing trails amidst sweltering heat, I kissed the dirt.

Oh no!  That’s right.  I tripped on a rock while running slightly downhill, and I flew through the air.  Astonished that I was falling, I fought the fall, and it turned out badly.  There was no semblance of a roll.  No, there was only forward momentum.  Then a thud.  Then another thud.  And one more for good measure.

The few seconds of impact jarred me so much, I didn’t immediately hop back up.  That took another couple seconds.  And then I sobbed as I searched about for a place to sit.  I don’t know why, but I didn’t want to sit in the dirt.  I think that it was just too far away.  So, I wandered up the trail a bit.  The fall rattled my body and brain to an extent that I wasn’t sure what to do.  I needed to talk to someone.

About a tenth of a mile later, I found a log to sit upon and phoned my husband.  He’s received these calls from me before – not terribly often, but enough to get directly to the important questions.  Where are you?  Did you hit your head?  Eventually, he said that I should come home.  But . . . 170.  I wanted to break 170!

And so I ran.  When my husband texted me that I was a “badass,” I texted back, “Not Really.”  And I ran some more with an aching knee (but not too bad) and a throbbing arm.  What I wanted more than anything was to wash the wounds.  But my wounds were open, and I didn’t want to give bacteria in the streams direct access into my body.  I did take the time however, to “document” what I could with photos.

I ran Arroyo Trabuco on into O’Neill park.  Relief set in because finally, I was able to wash my wounds.  And they did NOT feel better after that.  In fact, it was just when I was feeling better that I went and washed my arms and legs with soap and water.  The dull aching immediately returned.  Oh well, it was time to suck it up.  I had 6.5 miles left on the back portion of my Arroyo Trabuco out-and-back. 

Arroyo Trabuco with a view of the Saddleback Mountains (not very shady here, of course as it would be, hot and sunny during the most painful portion of my run):

I made it back to my truck dinged.  I think I lost more than the usual amount of brain cells in this adventure.  I did though, get in a little over thirteen miles. The remainder of the day, I ached all over.

The next day, I felt as if I were in an automobile accident – like my whole body had lurched forward and hit the dashboard.  I thought about running, but then decided, that’s it.  I have accomplished what I set out to do – I ran every day for the month of April.  I had to fight an inner battle not to run on Thursday.  I went to the gym instead and worked-out on the elliptical crossramp.  After 5 miles, I said, “That’s enough of that!” and went home feeling achy, like I was coming down with the flu.

My arm wound felt warm all day, and that night I felt like I had a mild grade flu.  It was a wonderful night of celebration for the family however, as we all went to watch our son perform with his high school chamber group (our oldest plays violin).  Back home late, I continued to pick out tiny pebbles from my arm.  My husband poked around, as I winced in pain, for pus.  Then I dosed the hardening scab with hydrogen peroxide.  Finally today, so many, many hours later, I am feeling better. 

Thanks to all for reading the wondrous journey of my running for 30 consecutive days.  I loved it.  At the same time, I am just slightly relieved its over.

ps.  I hit 177.41 miles  (285.51 km) for the month of April. 

A Different Kind Of Beautiful

Last weekend I noticed something while I drove Interstate 5, southbound, at about 70 miles per hour.  I noticed a flag flying high up in the hills overlooking San Juan Capistrano, Dana Point and San Clemente.  It was an American flag, I could tell that.  How I never noticed it before, I cannot tell.

Well, I’m one of those sort of runners who sees a flag and then has to, and I mean HAS TO run to it.  I got quickly thinking which trails might lead to this flag, and determined the trails off Las Ramblas, ones that I have never run, would probably take me there. 

There’s a reason I don’t run the Las Ramblas trails.  Very simple.  No shade.  I love trees, and I love shade.  Take both of those out, well, I pretty much stay away from you.

But I HAD TO run to that flag.

And so, on day 29 of my running streak, I strapped on my pack and headed out on the hot, exposed trails of Las Ramblas.  It was scorching, and it was a struggle, but I made it.  I ran the trails that went up, and I made it to the flag in about 2.5 miles.  And I discovered that just because these trails aren’t “my cup of tea,” they are still beautiful – a different kind of beautiful. 

Miles logged:  5.04

Psycho rider up in front of me:

I think I see my house – that tiny dot way over there:

I signed one of the several flag journals, read a few entries and wrote out my blog url:

View of Saddleback Mountains:

One more trip back up to the flag before heading back.