The Beautiful Modjeska

I shut off my early morning alarm ONCE AGAIN.  But all was no lost Sunday morning.  I threw caution into the wind and pulled my truck out of the driveway at 9:30 AM.  9:30 AM!  An hour later I was winding my way through a little town called Silverado, driving 25 miles per hour, onward to Maple Springs Road.  With the weather warming up, I feared I hadn’t packed enough fluids for an afternoon run and stopped by the only market in town for a Gatorade – just in case.  

At the trailhead, I continued on driving up a single lane road until the pavement ended.  Parking my truck beneath a tree in the woods, I headed up the dirt truck trail at approximately 10:40 AM.  The heat was sweltering, and quite frankly, I wondered how I was going to manage a mountain run.  With a cold Gatorade in hand and 72 fluid ounces on my back, I moved on as I always do – one foot in front of the other. 

I hoped that I could run up to Modjeksa Peak because I have this thing about summiting.  Love to summit.  If the weather grew too unbearable though, I gave myself an out, with a turnaround point at “Four Corners,” which is 4.25 miles up the dirt road called Maple Springs. 

Thank God for shade.  The first leg of my mountain run went well – I arrived to “Four Corners” having finished the Gatorade but without dipping into my hydration pack.  My leg “injury” did not cause a problem either.  I did experience a slight ache though, and took two ibuprofen since I decided to venture onward to the peak. 

I ran straight through “Four Corners,” where three off roaders parked.  And the gnats kicked in just as I turned onto The Main Divide.  With little or no shade and gnats flying at my face, the rocky terrain proved difficult.  But who am I kidding – this portion of The Main Divide is always difficult for me.  So, it was business as usual – one foot in front of the other.

At a little over 5.5 miles travelled, I turned the bend in The Main Divide for a view of two main peaks in The Santa Ana Mountains:  Modjeska and Santiago, the far ends of the saddle.  Wow.  I still daydream about it even a whole day later.  Setting my eyes on these peaks makes everything all better, the gnats, the heat, the rocks . . .  This is an emotional spot in the mountains for me – the scene of so many victories and agonies as well.  It’s what I see back home, the backdrop for most of my coastal runs.  

I turned off The Main Divide and trudged up the sort-of-single-track to Modjeska Peak.  No more cars or motorcycles.  I had this part of the mountain all to myself – except however for biting horseflies that took tiny chunks out of my arms and legs, oh and lest I forget, swarms of gnats hovering about my face, focusing on my mouth, nose, ears and eyes. 

Heading up to Modjeska:

The final ascent:

At last!

Polish actress, the beautiful Helena Modjeska, whom this peak was named after:

A mountain biker once told me about a short-cut coming off Modjeska Peak that takes you straight down to “Four Corners.”  I’ve looked for it, asked hikers and other bikers about the trail, to no avail.  That is until I ran The Harding Hustle last month. I  don’t recall whether it was during my first or second trip up to the peak that out of the corner of my eye I noticed a  “do-not-go-here” trail marking.  Do not go where? I thought.  There’s only one way to go.  And that’s when I saw it, a partially hidden, true-single-track disappearing down the side of the mountain. 

This Sunday, I sought out that trail on the way down from Modjeska.  The trail seemed so obvious now.  Still, I felt a little nervous.  Bike tracks relieved me some.  If a mountain bike could take the trail, then I could take it.  Hopefully.  A lot of short cuts are short because they take you down the face of a cliff or something ridiculous like that.  Determined to focus, I shut off my music.  But I kept the ear buds tucked into my ears else the growing number of gnats drill through to my brain.  I could hear them crashing up against the buds, desperate it seemed to hit gray matter. 

The trail was steep, so steep that in some points the ground merely slid beneath me as I attempted to run the terrain.  It’s been a long time since I’ve ventured onto new ground.  The views were immeasurable.  The trails were shady.  They were rocky.  And they were swarming with gnats.  Fortunately, my short cut didn’t take me down a cliff.   But because I ran an unbeaten path, I was extra careful not to fall.  My cautious gait was so slow, I wasn’t sure if this was going to be a “short cut” after all.  But soon, very soon, I caught “Four Corners” in my sight, and it seemed as if I had cut a mile and a half or so off my trip.

The “short-cut”:

Sure enough, this trail dumped me off right at “Four Corners,” on a portion of single track so steep, I sat and slid down it.  Oh ya!  Only 4.25 miles to go:

Wide Angle

I got off late on Friday, about 2 PM (surprise, surprise) for my pretty regular ten mile loop in Aliso/Wood Canyons.  I was armed with a new camera.  (My product warranty check came in – yay!  These product warranties on my cameras are the deal of the century for me.)  My new camera has a wide angle lens, which is new for me.  My husband’s professional camera has a wide-angle lens that I’ve never been too impressed with, 1) because it’s too dang bulky, and 2) it casts a shadow when the flash is used that I didn’t care to learn how to deal with.  But my new camera is one of those little things with the lens built in, and I hardly ever use a flash (& even if I did, I’m not getting a shadow with this camera). 

About a mile and a half into this run, after the back of my thigh began to ache, I switched on the wide angle for some shots of trails I have run countless times.   I was surprised what a different view this camera gives  – a more realistic view, one that captures not only what’s in front of me, but also what seems to surround me.  Very happy with my new purchase. 

The ache on the back of my thigh, right around the upper knee, grew worse as I made my way toward Mentally Sensitive.  I considered cutting the loop about a mile short by running up Meadows Trail instead.  Meadows is a steep switch-back to the ridge.  Mentally Sensitive is steeper, and not much of a switch-back at all.  I opted for Mentally Sensitive, because I’m just that way sometimes – a glutton for punishment.

I found the climb up Mentally Sensitive excruciating, but not surprisingly.  Fortunately, I had my new wide angle lens camera to keep my mind off the growing pain in my leg. 

By the time I reached the top of Mentally Sensitive, my leg was no longer an ache – it  hurt.  I could still run along the ridge, and I did.  By the time I made it to Meadows, I decided it was time to cut this ten mile loop down to seven miles.  I headed down the steep Meadows’ switch-back suffering.  It’s a mystery to me how I injured my leg.  There was no event, no popping, nothing to indicate an injury.  My guess is that I strained it the day before in the gym.  That’s what I’m hoping anyway, as I think that I can recover from that pretty quickly.

The Top of Mentally Sensitive/Saddleback Mountains in the background:

By the time I reached the bottom of Meadows, I could no longer run.  I couldn’t much walk either.  The pain remained the same whether I ran or walked.  That last mile and a half, I mostly walked, but ran some because I wanted to finish this up to stop the pain.  Finally back at the truck, I wept.  I didn’t cry because of the pain though – I was just so dang angry about having an injury.  I am such a baby when it comes to mentally enduring injuries.    Maybe that’s what they mean by “Mentally Sensitive.”

Smack-In-The-Middle-Of-The-Afternoon Trail Miles

Still have not managed to get up at the crack of dawn – summer is turning me into a sleepy head.   I did manage to get in  some smack-in-the-middle-of-the-afternoon trail miles today however.  Yes, the weather was extremely hot.  But I’m getting used to that. I quickly exited the canyon (Wood Canyon, which tends to trap in heat for a furnace-like run) and headed for the ridge.  This decision proved to be the best choice with occasional ocean breezes blowing my way.  And go figure, I didn’t see one other runner out there on the trails this afternoon. 

A View from Top of the World:

Summertime Rain Makes Arroyo Trabuco A Sauna

A couple newsworthy items as far as Me goes:  1)  We got a couple days worth of rain (though light) here in Southern California, and 2)  I have officially killed another camera.  Yes.  She is dead. 

Because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed this morning, I didn’t hit Arroyo Trabuco Trail until 1 o’ clock in the afternoon (13:00!).  And I paid.  All that rain put some water into the creeks, but it also put some humidity into the air, creating what seemed like a sauna.  After wasting way too much time fretting over my camera, which I feared dead and have since deemed dead, I took off into this sauna only slightly sluggish, but also with a slight pep in my step.  Why the pep?  Because I missed the trails.  Even in this love-hate relationship I’ve got going right now with my running and fitness, I still miss my wonderful, yet sauna-like friend today, the wonderful meandering rolling hills of Arroyo Trabuco Trail

Aye – just because my camera has died doesn’t mean I can’t snap photos – I have my trusty (non-smart) phone which can conjure up some pleasant photos.  This one was taken crossing Tijeras Creek, on my way to Arroyo Trabuco Trail.  I was already sweating buckets, but was okay with that.

Coming up on Arroyo Trabuco:

It all looks so shady and cool in the photos above.  Truth is – the humidity  was sweltering.  I was able to tough it out, only because I know that misery comes in much greater forms, and in comparison, today was really not that miserable.  I was after all on the trails, and I had all this familiar ground to visit – like seeing an old friend.  And seeing an old friend is one of the most joyous things in life. 

I’m hoping that these sauna-like conditions will help push me out of bed tomorrow for an earlier start.  Here’s to hope!

Where The Hell I’ve Been

I am still here.  But where the hell have I been?  That is a question I had to ask myself.  My answer:  I took a break.  And that’s the story I’m sticking with .  Not a real break, else I self-loathe into oblivion.  No, I took a mini-break, one filled with more rest that I usually allow myself.  And I’m glad I did.  Well, not really.  But I’m forcing myself to be glad.  I’m forcing myself to be content with what is.   

To recap:  I took some days off after The Hustle.  Four to be exact.  I figured that the rest would do me good, and that I’d be ready to run up a mountain. 

Note to self:  I cannot skip the recovery run. 

I should have taken my post race blues as a hint to at least hit the dirt for a few miles before attempting to run up a mountain. 

But, I didn’t.

I first set my feet to the dirt the Thursday after The Hustle where I met two girlfriends, Kelly and Sheila, in Silverado Canyon, about 3.5 miles past the Maple Springs trailhead.  I found the climb up tiring.  Quite slow.  And hot.

At about 4.25 miles, when we FINALLY reached “Four Corners,”  the ladies said that they wanted to put in another .75 miles for an even 5 miles.  I gladly stayed behind for some views.

I didn’t begin searching for my pals until a half hour had passed.  Unfortunately, I didn’t listen well (lesson:  listen!) when they told me which direction they would be travelling.  I searched to no avail, couldn’t even find their footprints.  Approaching an hour since our departure from each other, I began to REALLY worry.  I know these ladies.  I know their behavior on trails, and know that they don’t willy-nilly go off unexpectedly.  I felt for sure something had happened.  I thought to myself, “This is why I run alone!!”

And so, I ran back to “Four Corners,” from my search and in a calm panic, I walked around for a spot with cell-phone connection, and found enough bars to phone my husband.  He assured me that I probably mis-understood their intentions, that I should wait for them more, or slowly make my way back down the mountain.  As we spoke, I saw one of my friends making her way from a direction that I didn’t expect. 

The ladies had no idea how much time had passed and were profusely sorry for worrying me.  All was well that ended well.   I suppose I over-reacted in my worry. 

The next day, Friday (July 24), I took it easy with some ab work on my living room floor, as well as, upper body weights and burpees (both of which I hate). 

That first Saturday of my 2 week sabbatical (7/26/14), I spent some time at an air-conditioned gym about a mile away from my home with 5.23 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 4.34 miles on the adaptive motion trainer (AMT).  Afterward, I lay myself down on a bench for 400 crunches.  I finished off the gym session with fifty suspended leg lifts.  Back at home I managed ten burpees.  Yes, managed.

Sunday (7/27) was a day of rest with a mere ten burpees on the backyard lawn.  Really.  That’s all I could manage.

Monday, I just couldn’t bear getting out on the road, or the trails yet.  I was just too morose.  Instead, I found myself in an air-conditioned gym once again, where I plowed through 5.26 miles on the elliptical crossramp and 2.4 miles on the AMT.  I finished off this sabbatical gym session with upper and lower body weights, and then finally a mere 11 burpees at home on the backyard lawn. 

Tuesday (7/29), I managed to get in a little run by running out my front door during one hot and humid afternoon before my last teaching day this summer.  I ran alongside the beach, past the crowded campgrounds and to the southern city limits.  When the sidewalk ended, I turned around and ran back home.

Thursday (7/31), I made this sabbatical official with another trip to my air-conditioned gym. After trying four different elliptical crossramps, I found one in working condition and put in 5.14 miles.  I ended the session with a weight session – upper and lower body.

Friday, (8/1) was a true day of rest.  I spent this day of rest by dragging my three boys boys down to the corner where we caught a bus to Crystal Cove in Newport Coast.  It was a party bus of sort, and we were amused by the raucousness of its young passengers.  (One young lad was even kicked off the bus for smoking an E-cigarette).  After disembarking we hiked a bit inland (where I often run trails), then we turned back toward the beach for a trip beneath the highway to the sandy beaches there.   And we camped out here for a few hours before trekking back up to the highway, and caught another bus, and then another to be dropped off near home:

Saturday (8/2), when I was feeling that I had a long enough sabbatical, but didn’t mind extending it some, I found myself once again in my air-conditioned gym where I pushed through 5.33 miles on the elliptical crossramp, 5.12 miles on the AMT, a good session of upper and lower body weights, 350 crunches on the bench and 50 suspended leg lifts.

And then finally, on Sunday, today (8/3) I pursued my last day of this sabbatical with another session in my air-conditioned gym.  Miles recorded:  5.23 on the elliptical crossramp and 2.41 miles on the AMT.

Well then, there -- Sabbatical ended.

This is where the hell I’ve been.  I’m happy about it (and I’m sticking with that story )

Okay, then . . . am I crazy?

Harding Hustle 50k

I never really thought that I had it in me to run The Harding Hustle.  I was never going to even try.  This was the race that I worked, not ran.  It was too hot.  It was too steep.  And I would have to summit not once, but THREE times. 

That is, until 2014 when I registered for this race.  A momentary lapse of reason, I suppose.  I wanted to use this as a training run. 

I woke at 3:30 AM, left my house at 4:00 AM, arrived in Modjeska Canyon at 4:30.  I took off up Harding Truck Trail at 5:00 AM.  I elected an early start with two other runners, one of them my friend Emmett Rahl.  At the start line, Emmett gave me a laminated pace sheet with cut-offs, and pacing for a 7:30 finish and a 10:00 finish.  Considering that I doubted that I could even finish this race, I hoped for the longer finish.  On the backside, he had printed a group photo of my three sons and husband. 

Early on in the dark, I turned my ankle going up that mountain, but not terribly.  But, I have to admit that I thought to myself, “I really wouldn’t be that upset if I twisted my ankle.”  I had about thirty-one miles to go at that point.  An unbearable thought, so much so, that I didn’t think about it.  I just plodded one foot in front of the other.

I considered the  first “leg” of this 50k the almost entirely uphill trip along Harding Truck Trail.  It measures about 9.3 miles.  The first mile is the worst mile.  And it doesn’t ease up until about mile 6.5.  At that point, the road levels out some, and there’s even a slight down hill.  Only slight.  Normally, it takes me about 3:15 to make that nine mile trip.  Yes that long!  I am excruciatingly slow during that first leg.  Quite amazingly, I made the trip on Saturday in under 3 hours, something like 2:50.  To make matters quite pleasurable, the skies were cloudy and the breeze was cool. 

Trying to catch Emmett (which I never did) going up Harding:

Views from Harding TT:

First Leg complete:

The second leg of this 50k was the trip up to Modjeska Peak, which measures about 3 miles.  Also entirely uphill, there’s quite a few rocky portions which I found more than annoying.  But the views were so gorgeous and the breeze was still so cool, there was no getting me down, even as numerous regular starters began passing me. 

I found great solace in seeing a few runners that I know as I ran up to Modjeska Peak.  One of my running friends, Randall Tolosa,  manned the post at Modjeska where I turned around and ran back down for the third leg of this 50k. 

On The Main Divide onward to Modjeska Peak:

Shoe Tying at Modjeska Peak:

Coming off Modjeska Peak:

The third leg of this race entailed running down Modjeska into the saddle and up to Santiago Peak – a trip totaling about 3.5 miles.  Somewhere in the third leg, I met a reader of my blog (thanks for saying Hi and telling me you read Laurenontherun!!!).  Running down into the saddle I teared up, as I knew at this point I was truly committed to the 50K.  I was on my way to Santiago Peak, and there would be no turning back for a 30k race.  It was a finish or a DNF for me – just as I wanted.  I took out my phone and texted my husband, “in the saddle.” 

I found the third leg tiring and hiked a bit of that switchback up to “Talking Towers,” (AKA Santiago Peak).   Some of the runners powered up to the peak, others walked for more strength later.  I saw Emmett as he came back down, and he shouted out words of encouragement, as he knew all about my doubts.  I looked at my family’s picture quite a few times and smiled wide.  And I used the pace sheet to move me on quicker.  So far, I was coming in with times under the 10:00 finish, and well above the cut offs for the race.  I felt fine.  I was enjoying this adventure.  And even more amazingly, I kept the demons at-bay.  There was no negative self-talk, no “I suck,” or “Who am I kidding?”   It was more, “Look how beautiful that is!”  or “I am so lucky that the breeze is cool today.”

I meet several other runners at Santiago Peak, and familiar faces working the aid station.  I took a little more time at this peak, filling my hydration pack and talking a bit with the other runners.  I took off for leg four well within the race cut-off times.

The fourth leg was back to into the saddle and back up Modjeska Peak.  I teared up again in the saddle, this time because I knew that I would probably finish this race.  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” I warned myself.  Still, I felt confident.  I texted my husband, “back in the saddle.”

At the base of Modjeska Peak, I found myself weary of making that climb again.  You could have shot me at that point and I probably would have been fine with that.  I REALLY didn’t want to summit again.  But I drudged up that switch-back alongside the other runners who dragged along with me.  I noticed one guy sit down to rest as I finally quite happily made my way back down for the 5th leg back to Harding Truck Trail.  Keeping a foothold on that rocky terrain was difficult.   

Back in the Saddle:

I left the Maple Springs aid station for the final leg of this 50k at about ten minutes past the pacing for a 10:00 finish.  I felt fine with that.  But I had energy still, and I had run this 9.3 downhill on many occasions.  I knew that I could run it quicker than I thought that I could.  And so I took off with the intent of a 12 minute mile all the way down.  I did very well, felt strong, met other runners.  I was going back and forth with another runner who looked familiar.  He finally caught me again with about 6 miles to go, and we ran side-by-side silently for a bit.  So I pushed a little harder when he finally said, “Gosh Lauren, put down the hammer!” 

Ha!  Turns out we kind of knew each other.  He remembered me from working Chimera.  He said that I helped him at the Holy Jim Aid.  I remembered him as Jeff Higgins from Old Goat 50.  He was the guy behind me with encouraging words at the end of the race.  Well, he finally said that he couldn’t keep up and I raced off ahead of him gaining more speed as I crashed down the mountain (though I passed him, he finished with a better time, about fifteen minutes quicker because I started earlier).  It was great to see Jeff again.  And it was a booster to pass him. 

With less than 5 miles remaining, I stopped one last time, at the Laurel Springs aid station.  My eyes stung from salt dripping off my head.  So, I took the time to drench my bandana and washed out my eyes.  Then I draped the wet bandana over my head and headed down Harding Truck Trail.  I continued to pass other runners down that mountain who would beat me in overall time.  But it still felt good to finally pass runners.  I ran that last leg, the 9.3 rocky mainly downhill miles in less than 2:15.  My best from prior runs was 2:30. 

I am happy to report that I finished The Harding Hustle 50k.  It wasn’t quick.  In fact, it was slow.  But I did it.  I wasn’t pulled.  I didn’t fall.  I didn’t lose all my strength.  I never went into the dark side.  I kept my wits about me.  My garmin time was 9:25:41.  The race’s clock time had me at 9:27.  I’ll take it.  I finished.  And I am so, so, so grateful for that!

Less than 5 miles left: