A Cool Summer Run in Aliso Wood Canyons

I worried about today’s run because of my difficult time Saturday. Plus, I’ve got this toe injury/problem, whatever it is, that makes me wonder if I’m even gonna make the Bulldog 25k in two weeks. For some reason sleep has been tough (perhaps the writing deadlines I have put on myself for a September conference). And alas, the dreams-before-a-tough-race have begun, as I woke from a humorous one that I frantically searched the house for a pair of shoes. I wasn’t laughing in the dream, but looking back, I’m amused that I could not find one single matching pair of shoes for a softball game I was already late for. I barked out orders for everyone to LOOK, while I scrambled about on the floor, searching under beds, etc., and threw every single running shoe I found into a mound. And in the end, there was this giant mound in the middle of the room – not one shoe a match!

I woke this morning 5 AM, my toe barely aching, though I treaded lightly, afraid to face the real deal. Free to walk firmly with laced shoes (because for some reason, the toe hardly aches in shoes), I drank my two cups of coffee, surfed the net, then headed out the door about 6:10. (No breakfast, mind you, but some calories in the car for later and plenty of water for the run).

With one no-show, it was just Tom and me running Aliso / Wood Canyons this morning. The skies were gray and misty and lovely. The air was very still, and oh so cool. Perfect running weather. Wearing an old pair of trail shoes, I experienced no ache in my right toes whatsoever. And I was careful not run on my toes over those steep climbs. (Toe running up steep hills is suspect for my toe problems – but there’s plenty of things suspect, while I wait here guessing what the problem is, trying to wish it away.)

Entering Aliso Canyon on a Misty Morning

Nearing the End of Wood Canyon Trail, Canopied by Coast Live Oaks

Anyway, we took Aliso Canyon to Wood and ran it to the end where we climbed up Cholla. Confidence returned when I ran the entire Cholla uphill climb with greater speed than usual. Then we ran Westridge all the way to Top of the World. After a rest in the park, not to mention a “group” photo, we headed back down to Mathis to hit Wood Canyon Trail again. Then we came on my most difficult part of the run, that mile and a half back, half of it trail, the other paved. The difficulty has nothing to do with the climb, as it’s relatively level – the difficulty is all mental. I guess it’s the straightaway nature for some of it, plus the fact that I can’t see the end until about a quarter mile away. At that point, we dug in (at Tom’s request, thankfully, because if it were left to me, I probably wouldn’t push), and we finished off this morning’s run in a blaze. : )

Photo Op at Top of the World

Hitting Paved Road for the last 3/4 miles (the hardest part!)

Miles logged this wonderful Tuesday morning: 11.78

Docent-led Trail Run on the Fremont, Blind, Weir Loop

Up early, early again this morning for a 6:30 docent-led "intermediate-advanced" run. The morning was so very cool for an August morning in California. The skies were blue and spirits were high among the 12 runners.

I have two words to describe my running performance on this eleven mile run (pardon my bad attitude and language): I sucked.

After a couple hundred flat yards we began about a two mile climb that I just could not hack. It wasn't hot, and there was plenty of shade. The group was good, the docents were friendly. I simply could not hang. And it was that way the entire run for me -- exhaustion, like I could barely lift my feet off the earth. Negative self-talk was an added hurdle.

Irvine Lake in Distance

Looking Back Over Approx. 2 Mile Climb

A Rest Near The Top (& I'm not in a smilin' mood)

Down in Weir Canyon

Docent Shares His Knowledge

Cougar Tracks? (They measured the size of my fist -- not a bobcat's tracks)

And More Climbing . . .

The last 3 or so miles of the run, eight of the runners got out so far ahead that they were no longer in view. And the remaining 2 runners were so far behind me, I couldn't see them either. The trail seemed pretty straight forward, but now in with the heat and lack of shade, I grew worried that I had taken the wrong path. I just expected to run down when the end was near (but it wasn't near, despite my hopes). Then at one point, I took a fork in the trail that headed downward. I ran that trail until it dead-ended. Fatigued, I turned myself around and ran back up that trail and continued on to another fork. Following the footsteps in the dirt, I ran straight instead of down to the right (not wanting to duplicate my earlier error).

A bit later, I saw a group of people down off in the distance on a paved road. Thinking these were the runners, I turned around AGAIN and ran back down to the last fork. There I ran the other trail that lead downward. After a couple minutes though, I had to face the fact, no fresh footprints, this wasn't the trail to lead me back. And so I turned around AGAIN and headed back up to the fork and continued onward.

Well, I ran and ran, up and down rolling dirt trails, completely unsure I was headed in the right direction. The runners behind me were nowhere in sight, and I feared that waiting for them would do me no good if I had taken the wrong trail. And so onward I ran, checking my phone. It read 9:30 AM, and "No Service." Heck. At least, I still had plenty water in my camelback.

Up ahead I noticed the toll road, and remembered early on looking back on that. The fact that I was running towards it, gave me hope that I headed in the right direction. I just needed to get beyond that toll road, so that I could look back on it again. I was pretty demoralized and continued running, sweating pretty good, thinking, where's that damn pile of coal that the docent pointed out? I remembered just beyond that, he pointed out the dam to Irvine Lake.

Eventually that lonely road veered to the right, and I finally caught sight of the dam! Damn!!! Before long, that large mound of coal came into sight and I ran straight on into the staging area where a 9 of the 12 runners were resting and a big ice chest full of cold Gatorade awaited me.

I have to take this as just a bad day, and not bash myself for utter poor performance. It happens to everyone, and it's happened to me before (plenty of times). Still, I thought I was out of the woods for something this hard on me. At least I didn't get dehydrated. And even more importantly, I didn't fall.

But I have to explore, what did go wrong? Last night I woke every hour for some reason. And this morning, I did something that I never do before big, early runs: I ate breakfast -- peanut butter on whole wheat toast. I know that isn't much, but it's different than my usual habit. And speaking of running habits, usually I get my mileage in over 3 days of running. This week, I did it in 4.

Oh well. I'm hoping for better runs, and more importantly triumph over the voice in my head that says, "I suck" when things like this happen.

Miles logged this morning: 11

OCTR Members

Front Row: Me, Luis, Polly, Victoria

Back Row: Daniel, Tom

Vasque Peter Cyn Summer Trail Run Series #3

I am not an afternoon or evening runner. Actually, I am not an afternoon or evening racer. I love relaxed evening runs down at the marina, restaurants lights reflecting off the water. Races in the evening heat, that’s a different story.

I’m not sure what I was thinking when I registered for race number three of the Vasque Summer Series Trail Runs. I knew I wasn’t an evening racer. I guess I did it for the same ole’ reason – I wanted to see if I could beat last year’s time. Plus, there’s an added bonus to this race. It starts and finishes in Cedar Grove Park, so the whole family can come and our my boys can play while I run.

A pose before braving the canyon

Good-bye my oldest son, I shall miss you

And the horn sounds . . .

Last year I ran the trail both clockwise and counter-clockwise, and I’m not really sure which one I preferred. This year, I registered only for the final race, which ran clockwise. After a flat start, plenty of dust kicking up from all the runners, my boys running beside me for a bit, we veered to the left for an ever so slight incline on a wide almost sandy, pretty dusty road. The weather was warm, and I thought to myself, “What have I gotten myself into???”

It’s like the day zaps my energy for any kind of race later on. I tired pretty quickly Thursday evening. Not stopping for water, I sipped from the handheld that I brought along. And though, I didn’t stop running, I didn’t feel like I was progressing along very well. But I wasn’t dead last, and unless I broke a leg or something, I was gonna finish this race.

The trail is not a super tough one, but its tough enough – plenty of climbs. And on the down hills, which were rather steep I was unable to take it in my usual zig-zag manner, because the other runners ran it straight down.

I was tired – way too tired for a five mile race. I relished the cool breeze that occasionally blew in. But I mostly looked forward to finishing this race. More than anything I wanted to beat last year’s time, which was 0:58:19. My internal clock though (when am I going to get a watch?) said that I wasn’t going to make it. Felt more like an hour had already passed as I made my way toward the finish line.

Youngest and middle sons play waiting for Mom (with no fists flying!)

The Final Stretch

I saw my husband and boys before I could read the clock. He snapped away, while my two oldest boys screamed and ran alongside me. When I saw the clock read fifty-two minutes and some seconds, well, the torture was well worth it.

Final time for this 5 mile trail race: 0:52:44 , pace 10:33 (last year 58:19, pace 11:40)

I placed 173 out of 281, and was 13 out of 31 in my category (females age 40 – 44)

I'm happy that my boys got a couple hours in the park. But I’m thinking that’s the last afternoon/evening run that I’m registering for. I’m a morning gal now.

Energized

The sun shined brightly this morning for a 6:30 club run. The temperature though, was cool. Oh, how I love that cool temperature! And with no marine layer, humidity was low. It was just a beautiful morning, blue skies, dazzling clouds. I hit the dirt with Tom and Luis, feeling pretty good, trying out my Salomon’s again.

We took Wood Canyon, in and out of shade, and amazingly, I didn’t feel like I needed that long 3 mile warm-up that my body usually insists upon. After a couple creek crossings (not actually through the water, but over it), we made our way into that gorgeous shady grove towards the end of Wood Canyon. The weather still cool, a nice breeze, the company was splendid. Then, we all felt the temperature dramatically change as we ran up Cholla. It was as if we ran through a door of heat. And though Cholla was extremely tough, I ran up the entire thing, and didn’t feel like crumbling to the ground upon reaching the top. I just smiled wide and exclaimed, “that was tough!.”

Anyway, I kept up with the gang surprisingly pretty well on Westridge. We ran all of Westridge, and into the park at Top of the World. Then we took the road across the ridge to meet up with one of my favorite trails, Meadows. Meadows is brown now, no green grass, no yellow mustard wildflowers. The ride down is still exhilarating.

Top of the World, About to Descend on Meadows Trail (Luis, Me, Tom)

After a rest and photo-op, I flew down that trail, and made my way in at a pace quicker than normal (according to Tom’s GPS). I was surprised that my energy didn’t drain in the end. I ran it all the way in.

Perhaps it was the shoes. But I really have to credit today’s energy to 1) Saturday’s Trabuco run, which notched my ability up some, 2) light work-outs on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, and 3) most importantly, a change in my diet – that is not to say that I’m on a diet. I have just changed my diet, to include ten, count ‘

em TEN servings of fruits and vegetables.

After a round of chores at home, my energy started to seep. Today’s nap was from 2:00 to 3:30. But I pretended not to sleep, because for some reason, I feel guilty about napping. So when I’d hear one of my boys or my husband walk into the living room where I slept on the couch, I said a word or two, like I was just resting my eyes. I was sleeping though, most of the time. Don’t think I fooled anyone. They were good. I didn’t get any flack.

Miles happily, joyfully logged this morning: 11.5