TALES FROM THE TRAIL (AND SOMETIMES THE ROAD TOO)

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run 2011

I really don’t know where to begin.   I lied during the race, because I said I didn’t care.  It mattered before, because I worked my ASS off.  And it matters now, because I have regrets.  I had dreams.  I had aspirations.  I trained hard (but for only a short while).  I wanted to CONQUER Calico.  Did I?  Well, depends on how you define it. (Before your are an athlete you think it’s defined, afterward you have no ideal, because you can’t really know what defines an athlete : ) {If you’ve been reading along – sorry, soooooo sorrry}

My husband said I could throw him underneath the bus in writing this blog.  In fact, he urged me to “throw him beneath the bus.”.  I didn’t want to do that.  But heck, maybe I should.  Because I suppose the “whole” story is the “best” story.  Isn’t it?

Truth is, the 2 1/2 hour trip up to Calico, my husband and I argued a great deal about stupid sh*t.  I suppose it started earlier.  But it really erupted about halfway up the mountain.  And I cried and cried and cried.  My eyelids were practically swollen shut.  I really thought that I tried to calm the situation, because I know how important my mind is in running a long distance trail run.  A calm mind makes all the difference!  (doesn’t it?  doesn’t it???)

I think only runners, or maybe athletes in general  (though I don’t really consider myself an athlete) understand this:  A clear mind makes all the difference.  Mind over matter.  Believe me.  I’m 45 years old.  If anyone can tell you.  I can. 

I had been sick for days (I believe four days) and by the time I reached the summit up to Calico Ghost Town, with all my crying and such, I just said F**** it.  I’m not running.  I can’t do it with this mindset.

And then we (all five of us) drove on in silence . . .  And my hubby said “YOU HAVE TO RUN. . . YOU JUST HAVE TO RUN.”  And being the evil wife, I said, “NO.  I CAN’T.”

So, there’s me throwing my husband beneath the bus.  I can’t really do more than that (though I despised him at the time, because I really, really wanted to spend my passenger driving time meditating), but despite arguments and all, even wanting to THROW HIM UNDERNEATH THE BUS!!!, I love him, and he is really supportive for my silly hobby.  Trail running that is, I can’t say he is to blame.

I continued to cough and blow my nose that evening.  And since I decided F****, THIS,  I even had two glasses of wine at Peggy Sue’s Fifty’s Diner.  My husband said, “Are you sure you should drink that?”  I said with draggy eyes, “I really don’t care.”  (Despite my feelings for him at that point, he was supportive enough to drive me to heck and back and wait for hours and hours for me to cross the finish line : )

Downtown Calico Ghost Town (Bib Pick Up)

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ready or not

I bedded early, leaving hubby to deal with three misbehaving boys.  Why misbehaving?  Heck, I don’t know.  Maybe because they’re boys and I don’t know what the heck I’m doing in life as far as training youngun’s,  About 8:30 pm I remember sleeping and continually waking because mainly boy NUMBER THREE (pictured above) was up to mischief.

I believe I woke every hour.  And I reached for my cell phone, also my alarm clock, to see the time.  I coughed, I hacked.  In denial, I said to myself “allergies.”  I have them sometimes.  I dreamt  also OVER AND OVER that I was running.  But I really couldn’t run.  I kept falling.  And when I could stand, I could hardly lift a foot.  It was like my feet weighed a hundred pounds.  And so I went onward heavy laden, suffering, in agony.  In my dreams that is.  I also rode plenty of falling elevators. Over and over again, though somehow pleasantly.  (Riding falling elevators pleasantly is fairly rare.)

6:00 AM my husband took the 2 youngest of our sons, shoved them in the truck and drove me 3 miles to the start line.  Before leaving, I pleaded, “Wait, I’m freezing,” and he waited in the truck with our younguns, as I ran back to our room for some long sleeves. (Which I of course promptly dropped at the first aid station).

I arrived a good hour early to Calico Ghost Town (& I was happy for my husband for going thru that crap – really it is crap to run an early race alone).   And I don’t know if most of you know, but Calico is supposed to be haunted.  Funny.  I don’t really believe in “ghosts” as we traditionally describe them (though I believe in in them “untraditionally.”)  Before I sat down in the rocking chair on the saloon  slab before the race even started, the CHAIR ROCKED by itself.  I’m serious.  It rocked in unison as I sat down to film my  chat before the event.

So how many pages should I make this blog?

I could go on for ten, maybe twenty . . .

I started this run not caring.  I chucked all goals the night before in our arguments.  I just wanted to enjoy running in the desert.  Most people don’t realize that the high desert is gorgeous .  That’s what I love about trail running – the enjoyment, the beauty.

Funny thing, I saw familiar faces.   I saw Larry from OCTR. I recognized someone from Bulldog 50k, and also a very nice lady from another race that took Bulldog in the opposite direction when I ran it last spring. 

I chatted and learned a lot about Suzanne those first eleven miles (she was such a delight!!).  And I really have to say, it was pleasurable. I didn’t care about pace.  I cared about people and their stories; I cared about the beautiful scenery.  I learned a lot about Suzanne, and other tales from other runners on  those first eleven miles.  I saw Badwater Ben, who has run Bad Water’s 135 miles more than once.    He took pics at the beginning of our delightful, yet  gloriously colorful  morning run, and then again at the end when I wanted to collapse.  (about 4 miles left, I had a knee injury – nothing drastic, just that dang old knee slid out to the left without that youngun’ thing there to help.)  

I never tired drastically.  I should have on this 30k which was “relatively short”.  Actually it was a long 30k, not 18.66 miles, but 19.23 miles.  Heck.  I want to write something more profound about this race.  Well, here it is:   what I love about trails.  We’re all accepted.  It doesn't matter.  That’s all I ever wanted.  To do something fun, that didn’t matter.  19 miles.  I can do that.  And I should be able to do it much faster.  Really.  I DIDN’T  CARE at the race start (but I cared toward the end).  All that training, and I couldn’t come in faster!

Though I cried after crossing the finish line because I crossed with the worst time ever with me ( & my oldest son held me tight whispering that most people couldn’t even make that run).  He  held me for some time because he knows the pressure of first chair and honor orchestra, something  I could never understand.  I doubt that he “ really understands” though I hope that he does.  It’s also the camaraderie, not the competition that makes these races, these competitions the lesson.  FRIENDS.  Though we may pass them by in life . . .  there’s those we meet that makes a smile upon your face, like I did, a lady named Suzanne . You did a great job Suzanne!

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Suzanne & me at the 30/50k split

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The Home  Stretch / 30K Beautiful Run

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All I can think about here is ICE for the knee

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Photo Compliments of “Bad Water Ben.”

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Old School House

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Okay.  I’m tired.  Mainly my quads.  19.23 miles for this race logged.  Afterwards 2 park employees asked my race time, and I responded gloomy, “about five hours.”

“That’s six hours less than it would have taken me,” one of them said.  The other guy chuckled and added “That’s six days less than it would have taken me.

Calico Ghost Town 30k Elevation Profile

Calico Ghost Town 30k 2011

The movie, because if you visited before, I’m silly : )

Calico Ghost Town 30k Trail Run

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

The Race Report Begins . . .

The race story never begins the day of the race, does it?  Well, here I am sick, my second day (just five days before my much looked forward to race).  I spent all day yesterday in bed.  Went off to work for three hours, returned and after dinner, crawled promptly back in bed.  Feeling better today.  Want so much to run, even if it's pavement.  The gym would be good too.  But I'm still achey, throat is sore and congestion thick.   I HAVE to get well by this weekend.  And I'm so afraid that if I don't rest, I will make myself worse.

Such is life.  Perhaps this rest will make me better for Calico : /

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Tapering (& checking trails)

Saturday I set my alarm early for a paved run.  I woke so tired and cold, I decided to sleep in.  I mean way, way in!  I’ll call it tapering.  Later that afternoon, I took a drive to Aliso/Wood Canyons park, just to check.  Just to check how bad the trails were, and if there was a way I could sneak in.  I drove over Amwa bridge which was reinforced and posted with warnings against stopping and auto weight limits (no cars over 16,000 pounds – like I know how much our truck weighs).  Needless say, I drove across the short bridge very quickly. 

Gates were locked up tight, and the station looked empty of rangers.  I took a public upper dead-end road that leads to about the halfway mark on Aliso Creek Trail.  I could see from above that the creek was within its normal banks and the trail looked pretty clean.  And then at the cul-de-sac, the service entrance into the park was a ranger sitting in his truck : ))))

I got of my truck, he got out of his, and we walked toward each other, meeting at the gate.  We talked.  Apparently the trails aren’t going to open until next week.  Feeling a bit needy for trails, I asked about the unmarked ones on the other side of Top of the World, the trails that lead down to Laguna Canyon – they don’t seem to be part of any official trail system.  He smiled with a sly look and said that they weren’t monitoring them, and that if there’s no sign, well, that I could give it a try. 

“Are the slopes stable?”  I asked.  “Oh sure,” he said.  “Thing is, they’re awfully muddy.” 

And so I decided against driving all the way around (probably 10-15 miles) for a tromp in the mud.  Instead, I set my running gear by the door then set my alarm early once again for a run on the pavement Sunday morning (today).  Then after a movie with my oldest son, I snuggled into bed fairly early.  I woke, turned on the wall heater full-blast, surfed the internet, drank TWO cups of coffee.  Then I fell promptly back asleep on the couch.  When my middle boy woke, he covered me with more blankets, and I snuggled in deeper to sleep (hearing occasionally the ohhs and ahhs of Dragon Ball Z on the t.v.).  I didn’t wake until 10:30 AM!!

What is the matter with me?

Tapering.  That’s it.  I’m tapering.

I did manage to get in some speed training before heading out with our boys to visit my folks.  I felt like I had to get in SOME running.  So I used the local paved hills.  And I beat my fastest speed work pace of 6.44 with a pace of 6.23!  Of course, that’s not for a whole mile, just the speed burst.  And I have to say that I felt like I was going to fall flat on my face.

But I didn’t.  (Unbelievable.) 

One more week!  Just one more week . . .

Friday, January 7, 2011

Biding Time

All my local trails, and I mean ALL of them, are closed INDEFINATELY “due to wet and muddy conditions.”  I keep calling.  I keep checking websites.  I’ve seen pictures on-line and the (“my”) creeks have turned into rivers so badly that I can’t even recognize parks I know like the back of my hand (just what does that mean?  Am I supposed to know the back of my hand really, really good?  : )

With Calico a week away, I’m not fretting.  I’m not fretting because I’ve at least got SOME training under my belt.  Not as much as I’d like.  But I’m uninjured and partially strong.  Even if I don’t make my goals, I’m fine.  I just can’t wait to get out there.  I look forward to the beauty, the cold, the silent companionship.

Meanwhile, I’m spending lots of time in the gym.   Back to the weights.  I never really left the weights, except for the arms due to deltoid and pec injuries.  But now I’m good with even arm weights.  I’m mainly doing the elliptical, 65 minutes, lots of stretches, ab work, weights and foam rolling.  Back at home I’m keeping up with the floor exercises, all with hopes of starting Calico injury free. 

Ahhhhh.  Injury free.  I have learned much over the past year.  And that knowledge takes A LOT of time to practice.  My physical therapist told me that I needed to spend as much time on the floor with these exercises as I do running.  And of course, I laughed.  That’s just not possible. 

Just because it’s not possible, doesn’t mean I don’t try. 

Here’s to finding some place to run tomorrow.  I’m hoping for trails, but that’s unlikely : )  The rain really did us in trail-wise in The O.C.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

But I don’t “feel” old

People are always telling me that they feel “old”.  And I don’t feel old.  They tell me that their “old” body doesn’t work the way it used to.  I hate hearing that, because I don’t (or didn’t) feel the same.

And then that façade came crashing down . . .

When I was a kid, I was no “tom boy” (though I wouldn’t mind saying I was if I were.)  I was more of a “girly girl” – white buckle shoes, dresses, pigtails, etc.  But I also played in the mud, climbed trees.  I remember somersaults, cartwheels, quarter flips all summer long on the front lawns in my neighborhood.  I used to watch t.v. “standing” on my head!  And in an instant, I could bend backward (from a standing position) straight into a “back bend.”  I simply stood  straight, reached for the sky, bent back, and gracefully fell until my palms hit the ground, with my back arched and my feet remaining flat on the floor. 

As I talked about these activities with my oldest son last night (You know those conversations? “When I was a kid . . .  I didn’t have video games or even vcrs to entertain myself”,) he asked “What’s a back bend?” 

“Well, here, I’ll show you,” I boasted, to which my husband loudly exclaimed, “No, please No!”

I waltzed out into the hallway, lifted my hands up and bent back, just a little. My husband watched on, shaking his head.  Looking behind me as I prepared for this “back bend,” I realized that it was a long way between the floor and me now.  And this floor was hard.  I could hit my head.

“You’re not a contortionist anymore,” my husband said.

Okay, Okay, so maybe I need to work on simply falling into a “back bend.”

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But surely, I could lay down and lift myself up into a “back bend.”  No falling involved.  My head would be safe.

My husband laughed and warned, “Don’t do it!  Don’t do it!”  As my son watched on, curious to see what the heck a “back bend” was, I lifted myself from the floor while laying on my back.  And in the instant I tried to arch my back, an enormous cramp attacked my hamstring and I promptly fell to the ground. 

I guess I’ve been in denial . . . this body doesn’t work the way it used to.

But I still don’t feel “old.”  I just can’t do a “back bend” or probably even cartwheels across the neighborhood.  Heck.  I’m not even sure if I can do one cartwheel.  (Believe me!  After Calico, I’ll be working on that!)  I’m not sure yet about standing on my head.  I suspect there’s too much weight to rest upon my head for any length of time. : ))

I never see kids doing things like that any more.  Walking on their hands (I could do that too), standing on their heads.  In my day “jungle gyms” and front yard gymnastics were normal.

Such is life.  It changes.  That’s a good thing I suppose.  It’s just sometimes hard getting used to.

SO, all local trails remained closed today.  I talked with 2 kindergarten mother friends for quite some time after dropping my last boy off to school.  And then a minor emergency occurred with my middle boy (everything is okay), but I had to return to the school.  With much of my morning eaten up and work this afternoon, I had little time for a workout.  I knew what that meant:

Speed work.

Once a week.  That’s what I’ve been dedicated to since the last week in November.  I still hate it.  But I still do it.  Today, I ran my speed bursts on the local paved hills (right outside my front door) for a little over 2 miles.  The sweat began to pour quickly, and I doubted that I’d increased my speed any since I first started this torture. 

Surprise, surprise.  Back at home, after stretches, floor exercises and fifty jumps up onto the double-stacked railroad ties out back, I took a look at my speed work that is recorded in SportsTrack software.  Amazingly, I found that my fastest pace during these hellish speed workouts has increased (even after such a short time!)

I’ve only had five sessions and I’ve gone from a “fastest” pace of 8 something to 6 something.  I have to say.  I’m pleased.  Of course, that doesn’t mean that I’m even going to come close to running a 6 minute mile at Calico, or even an 8 minute mile.  What it means is that I’m stronger.  And for that, I’m glad.  Very glad!  Five speed workouts over five weeks have given me, in my opinion, big returns.

Speed Training Date       Fastest Pace

  1. Nov. 30, 2010        8:38
  2. Dec. 7, 2010         8:58
  3. Dec. 14, 2010       7:41
  4. Dec. 23, 2010       6:48
  5. Jan. 6, 2011          6:44

Thank you readers for all your comments, suggestions and encouragement.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Home Run

Back in California.  But my trails are all closed due to the past couple weeks of storms.  So I ran out my front door and did my old, old run (yes on pavement!).  And it wasn’t half bad.  Actually it was lovely.  Cool, almost cold.  There were trees down from the storm and Doheny’s shore was covered, I mean covered with sticks and branches.  San Juan Creek was flowing.  Other runners were out.  And they smiled.  I don’t think that I could have asked for a better run on pavement.  I didn’t even feel the extra impact – in fact, I felt light and airy.  I could have kept running and running.  But alas, I had to return home for chores and not to mention, I’m  back to work this week.

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Miles logged for my first run in 2011:  10.02