Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Keeping the Streak Alive?
Monday, July 15, 2013
What a Difference a Day Makes
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Day One
Ambitious for ambition, I decided today to start streaking. No, not running nude. Running consecutive days. After my last streak (that ended with 56 days), I thought, “Did that. Don’t need to do it again.”
Well, I think I do need to do that again. I need to kick-start my fitness. I need to kick-start my love of running. I don’t know how long I will streak. Perhaps I will try and break my record.
Day one of my streak I got a late start in Laguna Coast Wilderness. 9 AM weather was still cool, the skies were overcast. I set out on Bommer Ridge amongst several hikers, mountain bikers and runners. Yes, runners! I saw more runners on the trail today than I think I’ve ever seen on a trail run. Within an hour, I probably came upon twenty runners. Festive! About that time, the sun broke through the clouds too.
The weather warmed up tremendously before I turned off onto Old Emerald, a lovely single track that winds down into Emerald Canyon. Mountain bikers flew by me all the way down. I lost them in Emerald Canyon when I turned off onto Old Emerald Falls. The bikers continued up Emerald Canyon back to Bommer Ridge .
Heat bared down even harder as I ran Old Emerald Falls. To make matters even more difficult, the landscape was dry and exposed. My pack contained plenty of fluids, but I really could have used some ice in my cap. I took in a lot more heat than I expected and looked forward for this never ending lonely trail to end. Not a pleasant experience.
Old Emerald Falls (I have no idea where the falls are/were!):
Matters didn’t improve much when I finally hit El Moro. I really don’t think there’s a single piece of shade on that trail. After a while, I began to think I was running the longest trail ever! When I finally got a look at the grand Pacific Ocean, I was ready to jump head first into it. I would have if I could have. My saving grace was an occasional breeze.
I ran into the parking lot on my way to No Name Ridge where I would close in this giant loop. I guzzled down at the water fountain and washed my face with cold water in the restroom. With about half my fluids remaining, I didn’t refill my pack. Why didn’t I refill my pack? Because I was lazy. Yes, LAZY. I broke one of my hard fast rules, which to ALWAYS refill. I paid for this big time.
The heat continued to bare down on during those last four up hill miles. With about two miles left, I sucked down that last of it. All I could think about was water. Water and shade. I brought my energy level way down. And I finally found a bit of shade beneath a kiosk where I sat to cool down for a few minutes.
I knew I wasn’t going to die or stroke out or anything like that. There were plenty of hikers at this point, that if my situation got crucial, I could beg water off. Still, the last two miles were pretty dang miserable.
Making my way up No Name Ridge on my way back to the truck:
I made it to a drinking fountain before my truck. After guzzling down I washed my face. Then I guzzled down more. Feeling better, I took off my hot shoes and socks, and relaxed in an air-conditioned car before taking off for home.
Day one was a huge struggle.
After a cold bath at home, I’m all better.
The loop: Boomer Ridge, Old Emerald, Emerald Canyon, Old Emerald Falls, El Moro Ridge, B.F.I., No Dogs, No Name Ridge.
Friday, July 12, 2013
The “New” Out-Of-Shape
It’s a bitch getting back into shape. It seems much harder getting back into shape than it is getting into shape in the first place. It feels painstaking now, progress seems slower. Then it dawned on me today, the reason it seems harder is that the bar has been raised. Who raised the bar? I did.
When I first started running, I couldn’t run a neighborhood block. When I reached a mile, it was pure hell, and the last step was the best step of the entire trip. Now, “out-of-shape,” I can go out the door tonight and run twenty miles. Heck, I can, on the spur of the moment, sign up for a marathon and run it tomorrow. And finish. I won’t break any personal records, but I can do it. This is my out-of-shape. My out-of-shape is a weak core, a slower pace than I know I can run (& that’s not very quick), extra pounds, and a recovery rate that sucks, not to mention a wimpy mental attitude. I know what it feels like to be at my near best. When I’m not there, I’m “out-of-shape.” This is my “new out-of-shape.”
So fast forward to this morning . . . I set my alarm for 4:30 AM. I woke feeling way, way, way too tired to make the mountain drive for my planned run. So, I walked out to the living room couch and fell back asleep.
Waking at 7:30 AM meant no mountain run for today. I drank some coffee and packed up for a local run in the coastal hills. When I pulled up to Aliso/Wood Canyons, there was just one space to park on the street, perfectly sized for my truck.
The great news is, my shins barely ached. In fact, I wouldn’t even say that they ached. They merely felt tight. Not tight enough to stop and stretch however. My pace was pretty slow. I didn’t want to waste time stopping if I didn’t have to.
I took a “relatively” flat course up Wood Canyon, making 3 or 4 stream crossings. Humidity was high. Parts of the canyon trapped in the heat so intensely, it felt like someone had closed the oven door on me. I felt good nonetheless. I was just so dang happy to be running trails, enjoying the wildlife, bunnies, squirrels, stink bugs and tiny yellow birds hopping about the meadow floor.
Glorious. Simply glorious.
An easy Wood Canyon stream crossing:
The toughest climb was up Cholla Trail. Out of the canyon, Cholla left the oven behind, but the air was still thick with humidity. I’m used to running this entire trail, so when I felt I couldn’t run it today, I stopped instead of hiked. I’m that stubborn. I can run this trail dang it. I stopped to rest twice going up Cholla.
As I ran West Ridge’s rolling hills I didn’t think about how much longer I needed to run before I finally made Top of the World. Instead, I noticed deer tracks off to the side. I noticed slithering snake “tracks” across the trail. I nodded to several hikers who made their way along the trail, and I wondered how they could make it with just a single bottle of water. My clothing drenched with sweat, and my body chaffing at clothing seams, I guzzled my fluids like it was the last on earth.
Time for breakfast at Top of the World:
I didn’t finish these near 15 miles strong. But I finished. And I finished dirty. It’s good to get dirty – even being out-of-shape.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
The Magic of Evening
I must say, or rather write, that I cannot recall the last time I went for an evening trail run. The weather was perfect too. We had a little rain this afternoon, it was muggy by evening, but with a delightfully cool breeze.
No near fail here. My right shin felt tight running up Cholla trail, but that quickly ironed out. I need to do this more often. What was I thinking trying to run in the middle of the afternoon. Note to self: change things up more often. I knew there was a reason I loved late sunsets. How did I forget?
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Near Fail
Last weekend I stashed water at the top of Maple Springs for a group run that I posted for today. Turns out the weather was a bit cooler than the past few days. Super good thing, being that we didn’t begin until 7:00 AM.
Seven of us set off up Maple Springs Road to “Four Corners.” I took up the back right away with aching shins and tight calves. I stopped to stretch several times, to no avail. The pain in both shins only worsened causing a constant stabbing as I made my way up the mountain alone.
I thought to myself, “Well, this is a big FAIL.” If it hadn’t been for the water stash, I would have turned around after two miles and driven home. But, I wanted the other runners to know where the water was stashed just in case the weather really heated up and they needed it. I know all too well the dilemmas of running out of water.
I thought I might catch up with the rear of the group at three miles.
No runners in sight.
Five miles, no runners in sight.
Well, dang it, I really didn’t think I could take the pain much longer, and it looked like I was never going to catch up with the group. So, I flagged down a motorcyclist. I asked him if he would relay a message to the next group of runners he came upon. “I’m not going to make the loop. I’m in pain. Slow down or wait so I can reach you and tell you where the water is.” (The message was actually shorter, but relayed the same info.)
With the motorcyclist driving off, I felt great relief knowing I would turn around soon. Within minutes Janine and Philip came hiking around the corner and exclaimed, “You weren’t that far back! We were just up the way.” What a fantastic sight to see these smiling trail runners. By this time I was only two miles from “Four Corners,” and when I found out Janine and Philip weren’t doing the loop, but an out-and-back, I continued upward with the two. Their company took my mind off the shins.
We made it to Four Corners with plenty of water to refill our packs. I was surprised to see none of the other runners had waited. I’ve done a group run on this loop several times and every time before, the group waited for everyone at “Four Corners.” It’s not a rule or anything. Just kind of an unspoken thing that didn’t happen today.
More water for us, though I hoped the others wouldn’t run out. They had a tough load ahead of them with no shade. While taking in the views, two cyclists came up Harding Truck Trail and we shared our plentiful source of water with them while chatting and laughing over trail stories.
The 7.5 miles down Maple Springs was tough on my shins. It wasn’t as painful, but still I experienced difficulty. Philip and Janine would quickly get ahead, while I struggled to keep a decent pace. They waited though every so often. Each time I’d turn a corner to see one or the other waiting, it put a smile on my face.
Ends up I got in 15 plus miles with friends, so it wasn’t so much a “Fail.” In fact, I’d call it a success. Good conversation, laughter and plenty of water.
Time to start working on my shins. I’ve been running low mileage weeks lately. Perhaps I increased my mileage too quickly.