TALES FROM THE TRAIL (AND SOMETIMES THE ROAD TOO)

Friday, June 21, 2013

Sometimes the hardest part of the run is getting from the front porch to the car

Yes, it’s true.  Usually, sometimes when I make it to the truck, the hardest part of my run is over.  At times it takes that much mental power to get out the door.  I write you no lie – it took me the good part of THREE hours this morning to convince myself not to let my ankle rest one more day.  And I probably could have let my ankle rest one more day.  But I have begun to feel like a sloth.

Late morning, as the weather began to heat up on this first day of summer, my feet finally hit the dirt in Wood Canyon.  I’m not sure if it was my running rest or work on a straight column, but my trudge up Cholla was quite comfortable.  Sure, my shirt was drenched in sweat.  But I never felt the misery.  Perhaps that means I need to now increase my speed. Winking smile

Ankle report:  a slight discomfort on the downhills.  I could also feel my ankle weakness.  I nearly rolled it a half-dozen times, and I’m not generally an ankle roller.

In all, I’m delighted to have made that trip from the front porch to the car.  6.5 hilly miles does wonders for the soul.

Heading up Cholla Trail:

Looking down Wood Canyon:

Final Stretch up to Top of the World:

View of Pacific Ocean from West Ridge:

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Should I Run this Race, or am I too Old?

As I rest up my ankle, JUST ONE MORE DAY Sad smile, I contemplate new challenges for the year.  I’m returning to some of my regular challenges, and they are beasts indeed.  With my ankle injured, I’m back strength training, which I gave up when I could no longer afford gym membership (silly me – you don’t need a gym to gain strength!).

All of my races need strength, a solid mental strength as well as physical.  But I wonder, could I gain enough strength to handle one of the Spartan races that I’ve been hearing about?  Or am I too old?

I’ve run obstacle races.  I’ve run lots of mud races.  I’ve run endurance races.  I’ve run short races, marathons, but nothing, nothing like a Spartan race.  If you haven’t heard of these races, let me give you a little re-cap.  They are “primitive-like” obstacle races (of various distances, from 5k to marathon).  And I think the contenders are a bit mad, undoubtedly crazier than myself.  This is why I wonder, Am I too old?

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Sure, I’ve accidentally ran off a mountainside.  I’ve stood on ground that broke away and sent me sliding.  I’ve nearly stepped on a rattle snake.  I’ve eaten dirt countless times.  I’ve had a pebble lodged into my eye.  I’ve been crazy enough to run through poison oak again and again.  I thought I broke my knee when while running on ice I crashed to the ground.  I’ve even suffered heat-exhaustion.  I’ve run in the pouring rain.  I’ve climbed walls and fences.  I’ve jumped from high distances.  I’ve been crazy enough to run in 3 digit temperatures.  I’ve run in freezing cold. 

But I have NEVER jumped over fire!  Nor I have ever had to dodge moving obstacles.  I have never had to traverse a hanging rope while holding on upside down!!!  I have been taken out of my comfort zone.  But not this much out of my comfort zone.

Capture

capture1

What do you think?  Might I dare?  Might you dare?  (If you’re intrigued, check out this link for dates & locations: http://www.spartanrace.com/spartan-obstacle-racing-events.php)

SO, Spartan Races gave me a free entry that I can give away to a reader of this blog.  Though these races are held all over the world, this entry is for any in  in the Continental U.S. 

Like my Facebook page “Lauren on the Run” (badge on right side of this screen), and your name will go into a hat for the free entry.  If only one person “likes” my page, then you win!!!!!  (Spartan also generously supplied me with a 15% off link that I’ll pass on to anyone who “likes.”)  Be sure to comment and tell me if you think I should run this race.  I’m seriously curious.  If you have previously liked my facebook page, a comment will get you an entry in this free race drawing. Smile  Also, BE SURE TO LET ME KNOW (via comment or e-mail) if you “liked” my facebook page, otherwise I might not catch it. 

Muhahahaha. 

I think this ankle-rest-up is getting to me.  (ps.  I’ll draw a winner in 2 weeks).

Thanks for reading!  Time to ice.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Unspeakable Beauty (Trail Running in the Saddleback Mountains)

To bed early (9:00 AM – oh the glory!), I woke at 4 AM.  I hoped to make the drive to the Holy Jim trailhead by 5:40.  But I lazed around the house too long, drinking coffee, casually dressing, that I didn’t arrive until 5:50.  (At least I planned ahead and got my gas the night prior).

On my offroad drive into Trabuco Canyon, I noticed a smoldering camp fire.  A slight breeze blew through the canyon and I didn’t want to take my chances that this fire might spread.  Sure, I could escape, but what about my truck and all those cabins nestled into the canyon.    First off, and more importantly, who sets an illegal fire in the first place, then doesn’t completely extinguish it???  If you’re going to set an illegal fire, be DANG SURE TO PUT IT OUT.  I don’t mean to be judgmental, but am I wrong? Utterly annoyed, I turned my truck around.  Kicking dirt at the fire didn’t do much, as the dirt was compacted and dry.  Remembering that I had plenty of water in my truck, I eventually doused out the fire and headed onward into the canyon.  Not only did these careless fire makers risk a disaster, but they also cost me time.  Oh, the humanity!!!

I arrived to Holy Jim Parking lot, utterly alone.  As I strapped on my vest, I heard voices in the distance and wondered, who the heck is playing in the creek at this hour?  When I finally set out, I saw two runners coming into the lot.  I knew both by sight.  One of the men went to college with my husband, the other I’ve seen running all over the mountains.  Though we are more acquaintances than anything else, I can tell you, it was sure nice to see to familiar faces in a desolate canyon at this hour.  We chatted for a short bit and headed off in opposite directions.
 
I took off up Holy Jim trail, a relentless five-mile uphill switchback to The Main Divide (a truck trail that meanders back and forth behind and front of the mountain with Orange and Riverside County Views).

I have NEVER noticed this sign before (go figure):
More Holy Jim, switchback after switchback, through forest and desert-like terrain:
Looks like the spirit of Caballo Blanco making his way through this canyon (notice the horse head shape of the clouds):

The scenery was so beautiful this morning, I wasted much time taking photos.  I also took some extra time working on form – that is keeping my head and shoulders even with my hips while making my way up hill.  This form felt awkward for some time.  I felt like I was in a marching band, and also like my rear end was sticking out.  But when I checked, I found my column straight.  Odd.
 
I did not see one person travelling up or down Holy Jim.  This of course was perfectly fine with me.  When I’m working on form, I don’t really appreciate company of strangers because I don’t want competition to take over.  The mountains were desolate on this wonderful morning.  Peaceful and serene.  After the parking lot, I didn’t speak a single word.

The final stretch of Holy Jim:

I made it to the top of Holy Jim (Bear Springs) ten minutes slower than my slow time.  Great relief set in as I made my way along The Main Divide.  My ankle cause minor pain, nothing terrible.  But still it worried me.  I took two ibuprofen (Yes, I know that is a no-no).  Overall the Main Divide was unspeakably beautiful.  I could not help but stop to take a few pictures.  I was after all running ABOVE the clouds.  I can’t think of anything that compares to running above the clouds.  It’s a surreal experience running up and down, up and down those rolling hills for several miles.  The mere perfection of this beauty is simply mind-boggling.
   

At last I made it to the infamous West Horsethief.  What a relief!  I tried, and I tried oh so hard to become one with the land travelling down this difficult trail.  I loosened up; I kicked out the back.  And I did pretty dang good for a while.  Then when the fist-sized boulders set in, I began slipping and sliding.  Perhaps I should have slowed my pace.  But my goal was to keep my pace up down West Horsethief.  During races, I lose time going down this trail.  And I hate to lose time running down hill.  Perhaps I didn’t concentrate or focus hard enough.  I’m not sure.  But after several slips and slides, I finally fell.  Fortunately, I fell on my ass, which has lots of cushion.  After impact, I came down on my right wrist, which caused only minimal pain at first, and then it was over.  Even after the fall, I continued to slip and slide down West Horsethief – big bummer, but what a gigantic adventure! 

Despite this approximate 15 mile difficult terrain, I made it back to the truck with energy to spare.  Unfortunately, I’ve been icing my ankle off and on all night. 

Here’s to a quick healing --  here! here!!

Ready to descend on West Horsethief:
Running Holy Jim - Horsethie loop 6-15-2013, Elevation

Friday, June 14, 2013

Test Run

I did not take a new pair of shoes out for a test run today.  Unfortunately, no.  I took my feet out for a test run today, more specifically, my right ankle.  I’m done wearing the boot.  But still, I wore one of those stretchy braces beneath my socks.  (I got it filthy with dirt.)

My ankle felt fine running the uphills and flats.  It was those downhills, especially on the way back that added a bit of pain.  My ankle may or may not have been ready for today (I’m going to be optimistic and say it was).  But dang it, I missed the trails badly.  I was actually having dreams that I could not run trails anymore, that I had to turn back on certain trails (that I’ve never seen in my waking life) because they were too hard.  Too hard!!! 

Aside from testing out the ankle, I also worked on a bit of form today as I ran the rolling ridge overlooking Laguna Beach.  One problem with my form has been that I lean my shoulders forward and look to the ground when running up hill.  This posture makes for tense sore shoulders and a reduction in speed.  During this afternoon’s run, I focused on keeping my head up, even with my hips.  And though I occasionally found myself looking down, I was convinced to keep looking forward when doing so I spotted my first rattler of the season.  She was a beauty.

Ready to run myself back into tip-top shape!

It seemed that I actually made eye contact with this rattler as I ran toward her to snap this photo.  She appeared annoyed. (On the way off this single track, I came upon two lovely young, very young ladies, making their way up.  I warned them to be aware, “I just saw a rattler.”  Upon hearing this, they both SCREAMED, and ran back down the single-track.  I felt badly for scaring them and gave the ladies a quick lesson in rattlers, ie, keep aware, give them their space, etc.  I was glad to see the two turn around and make their way back up. Smile

West Ridge:

Top of the World:

The Profile:

Running Cyn Vistas to TOW and back 6-14-2013, Elevation

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Mileage is Low–Okay, Here’s the Plan

Mileage is low for 2013, this after a grand 2012 mileage total (for me that is).  I could give you lots of excuses for this year’s progress.  I won’t do that though.  I am one of those fortunate employees who have an influential boss.  The best thing I’ve got from her so far (& I’m pretty sure there’s more to come) is this:  Don’t give me excuses, give me your plan.  She says this to the seniors and other lower classmen who come to us for credit recovery.  And at age 48, I have so much to learn from this.  Forget the excuses, let’s get a plan.

Here’s my plan:  Run.  And then run some more.  And then run again.  I’ve got the ankle boot off.  I’m wearing a simple wrap-like brace.  I’ll start off slowly with a hike, then after that I’ll go for a run, if pain permits (And pain always permits, doesn’t it? Smile )

I’m not really that concerned about my low mileage.  I know that if I can get this silly injury under control then I can get my training into “full-swing.”

Second to the mileage, I really must change my diet.  I’m not talking drastically.  I seldom eat desert.  I hardly ever indulge in things like chips, cakes and ice cream.  My downfalls are hard candy, cheese and wine, and corn tortillas, and a bit more pasta than I should indulge in.  The plan is simple here.  All I need to do is add more vegetables and a tiny bit more fruits.  That way I will be too full to take in a large quantity of pasta and/or chips, cheese and other indulges.  Wine on the other hand will be more difficult, but not impossible, and not even excruciating. The plan is when everything is accomplished, chores, fitness, children, etc., etc., etc., – that is the only time wine is okay, and even then, just sometimes.  Sweets and other candies, well, I really need to dump these entirely.

Here’s to practicing the remedies to my defaults!!  Hip-Hip-Hurray!

Yes; I am quite silly.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Only Insane People Do This

I’m not running the Harding Hustle ultra at the end of this month, nor did I plan to.  I did however do the Harding Hustle training run this morning.

Why?  Oh, I don’t know.  The camaraderie?   Perhaps.  Emmett was going to be there.  And he was bringing my Hashtravaganza t-shirt.  That was a plus.  With my rolled ankle and a busy, busy work week, I haven’t run since my marathon last Sunday.  Heck, I just thought today was a good idea.  I’d get to sleep in, and the drive was easy.  Nervous about the late start (7 AM), relief settled in when I walked out the door to find the town socked-in.  We’ve been socked-in all week. 

I’m not a big fan of Harding Truck Trail.  It’s 9+ miles up, up, up with little or no shade. Still though, it’s gorgeous.  I saw my friend Emmett and his friend start up the mountain before the rest of us.  That’s when I thought, “I’m outa here.”  I needed all the extra time I could get.  Then my friend Chris saw me take off and I presume thought the same thing.  He was by my side within seconds, and we ran the first five miles together.  I was glad for his company.  His conversation kept my mind off “this fresh hell,” called Harding Truck Trail. 

Actually, the morning was lovely.  Yes, the climb was hard.  But it was the good kind of hard.  The accomplishment kind of hard. Then when Chris turned around, I was on my own for a while, still climbing up.  The words that raced through my mind were, “Only insane people do this!”  And don’t they?  I mean if you do this, you have to admit you are insane.  And if you read this, and want to do this, you are insane as well. 

Running Harding TT out-and-back 6-8-2013, Elevation

RD Jessica says a few words to the group:

Chris points out some interesting geological happenings:

Running above the clouds, it heats up some:

Continuing upwards after my company leaves, up ahead, another Harding Hustle trainer (a.k.a insane person):

Normally, my pack doesn’t hold enough fluids to run around 19 miles, especially mountain miles.  Call me stupid, because it was a stupid call, but I thought the cool weather at home would be my saving grace.  After 7 miles up, I knew that I was going to run low.  The downhill though, 9+ miles of downhill wouldn’t need much water. 

I saw Emmett and another runner running down from “Four Corners,” and they told me about a little bit of water that was waiting at the top.  Relieved to finally reach “Four Corners,” I chugged down the remaining water from a jug sitting in the shade.  (I was the last one up the mountain anyhow, no one else would need it after me.)  After a few pictures, I took in some calories and headed down for the trip back. 

I enjoyed some shade at first.  I also enjoyed the lovely flowers and a bounty of butterflies fluttering about.  Relieved that the bumble bees didn’t bother me, I still gave them a cautious eye. 

A cool breeze blew here and there.  I continued drinking when I needed to.  At about mile 11.5, all shade disappeared. 

I tried to hold off a little on the fluids.  But in the end, I decided it was better to drink up now than to pass out now, with water still on my back.  With 5 miles remaining, I was finally out of water.  I continued on running, anxious to get back to the truck where a couple gallons of water awaited me. 

With 3 miles remaining, I saw some hikers with their dog up a ways.  At 1.5 miles remaining, I ran up behind them.  As I passed, the woman (named Marilyn) commented to her brother (Michael) about all the lovely bird chirpings.  She said, “There must be a water source near by.”

To this, I held out my arms and jokingly said, “WHERE . . . ?“

That’s when Michael asked if I needed water.  With a hydration pack strapped to his back, he reached into another bag and handed me a fresh bottle of water.  Can you believe my luck!  I thanked them profusely and ran upward, the one uphill on the way back, drinking that water.  Not twenty-five feet away from the brother and sister hiking team, heat exhaustion, or perhaps the beginnings of dehydration hit.  And it hit like a brick wall.  I felt like I was going to fall to the ground.  I needed to lay down.  All I could think about was causing a spectacle.  I didn’t want to do that to the couple behind me.  So, I slowly lowered myself to the ground.  And I sat.  I had a smile on my face and assured Michael and Marilyn that I would be fine.  After a few minutes, I stood up to prove it.  And man!  I was gonna go down again, so lightheaded was I.  Instead, I leaned over holding my thighs, breathing hard.   I tried to walk onward.  But I couldn’t.  Again, I was back holding my thighs, feeling like I might pass out.  That’s when the two, very kind strangers decided they weren’t leaving.  “Lauren,” Marilyn said, “You’re going to stay with us the remainder of the way.” 

She handed me her walking sticks and we progressed onward.  I had to stop every few minutes and hold myself up so that I wouldn’t fall to the ground.  Michael handed me cold chocolates with orange gel filling.  I ate two of them.  Using the walking sticks, I finally gave them up because gripping the poles only made my hands numb.  Within about a half mile, I could see the parking lot.  I felt A LOT better.  Still, I remained hiking, chatting away with the two about local trails.  Thank God for Michael and Marilyn.  Without them, I would have surely lay down in the road, perhaps passing out.  Without their water, I would have not been able to make it back to the truck. 

It’s humbling to take the aid of strangers.  I hope that I can pay back another stranger some day.  Thank you Michael and Marilyn.  What a day.  Another lesson learned (again and again!).

Total miles run today: 18.77

Total elevation gain: 4,266’

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

San Diego Rock N’ Rock Marathon

I have been aching for a giant race for quite some time.  My races usually range from 50 to 150 runners.  I consider a medium size race one with about 500 runners (I seldom get these on trails).  Big races, in my opinion, have more than 1,000 runners.  GIANT races have more than 10,000 runners.  The last time I ran a giant race was during spring 2009.  That was the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon, my first marathon

You see, I’ve been wanting to get lost in the crowd during a race instead of running by myself for hours.  That’s how it is in trail races – the field spreads out pretty quickly, and with a hundred or less runners, it gets a little lonely on the race course. 

Having missed Nanny Goat this year, I went for it and registered for the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon.  30,000+ runners registered (15,000 for the marathon, the rest for the half).  This is a road race of course.  The last time I ran a road marathon was back in 2010. 

I had precisely two weeks to train and one week to taper, to get ready for this weekend’s Rock n’ Roll Marathon (ha, ha).  My “training” was on 99% trails (another ha, ha) and I knew that I probably wouldn’t beat my first time running this marathon.  Road marathoners on the whole (average folk like me) run faster than long distance trail runners.  I did not fear however.  I was out to have some fun.  Out for a cool day trip to the grand city of San Diego.

I woke at 3:00 AM Sunday morning.  Giving myself twenty minutes to get ready, I was out the door in twenty-eight.  Then I drove a half hour to the nearest San Diego County train station to catch “The Coaster” into San Diego.  This way, I saved on gas, parking money and the heartache of trying to get into the big city with its closed roads and freeway offramps. 

“The Coaster” took off at 4:10, and we made several stops along the way.  Runners and spectators boarded, eventually filling the train to capacity.  We embarked in an area of San Diego called “Old Town,”  the oldest part of the city.  But the sun had not yet risen, so I couldn’t see anything but the lights on the chartered buses that drove us Coaster riders to the start line.

Arriving to the start line in the big city with 30,000 other runners was pleasantly easy.  I thought I’d encounter some frustration – instead, there was zero – just friendly faces, very clean porta-potties, lots of running Elvises, gazillions of really cute running skirts and a delightful sunrise. 

Aboard The Coaster – looks like I’m barely awake.  It was 4:00 AM:

In my corral, #10:

Corral #10 on deck:

I set off at a faster pace than I ever start on trail races.  Around a nine minute pace, I passed The Jester, a pretty famous and pretty dang nice ultra runner in my parts.  He held a sign that read “26 miles to go.”  I looked to the runner on my left and said, “Is it a bad sign if I’m already tired?”  He chuckled and said that he thought so. 

Countless people held up signs for us.  My favorite read, “Run Easy, You’re Not Gonna Win.”  That was me, running easy. 

Though I felt I was running easy, I wasn’t.  My first 5 miles went exceptionally well.  Once I glanced at my garmin and read an 8 mile pace.  I had to double take that look because such a pace isn’t my style. 

My overall goal was to make every five miles in an hour or less. My first five came in under an hour.  My second five came in right at an hour.  That’s when I knew that my 5 miles an hour wasn’t going to last.  I needed mile twenty to come in right at an hour, not mile 10.

One mistake that I made was that I didn’t pack fuel.  With the cost of this race, I assumed we’d have plenty of calories to intake at the stations.  Turns out, the first of two gel stops came at about 10 or 11 miles.  I grabbed three, then dropped one on the run.  (I didn’t get another chance at fuel again until about mile 18!)

The great city of San Diego:

Approximately every mile we ran up on a band.  I didn’t need to turn down my ipod.  The bands played so loudly, they would drown out the music piped into my ears.  The bands were great entertainment.  I didn’t take much time to photo them though because I didn’t want to stop.  There was a lot of variety in the music.  In Old Town, we had Mexican style music.  At the bay, a band made of kids played rock n’ roll.  I even remember a marching band (though they weren’t marching).

If it wasn’t a band, it was something else for entertainment.  There were disc-jockeys playing music.  There were cheer leaders chanting songs.  There was a psychedelic tunnel with wavering lights to run through.  We ran along the water in Mission Bay, and we ran through neighborhoods with enthusiastic spectators offering refreshments like water, beer or red vines candy.  The mood was extremely enthusiastic.

Rock N’ Roll Tunnel:

Mission Bay:

I noticed many differences between my trail races and this road race, some of them advantages, others disadvantages.  For example, what some other runners referred to as hills, seemed pretty flat to me.  And I was also able to make up A LOT of time on the downhills.  Often on trails, the downhills are so technical that I sometimes LOSE time. 

The difference that ended up being detrimental to my game was the fact that road runners don’t look behind them before moving over.  On the trails I MUST look over my shoulder, else I risk being run over by a mountain biker. 

Somewhere between mile 12 and 17 I looked behind my shoulder and moved left to pass a runner in front of me.  The runner suddenly shifted to the left and to avoid crashing into him, I leapt even further to my left.  When my front foot landed, my right foot came down at an unnatural angle in a hole in the road.  Upon impact, I rolled my ankle.  I ran onward relieved that it was a roll and not a twist.  By then my left quad was aching some from the fast downhills.  My right foot neuroma also ached.  So the pain from the ankle roll seemed minimal.  Still, at the next aid, I stopped for 1,000 mg of acetaminophen. 

Then I came upon the slanted freeway.  With a left quad ache, and right ankle and toe (neuroma) ache, the slant of the freeway was quite a chore to maneuver.  Everyone around me seemed to suffer from the slant.  Up aways, I noticed a runner on the shoulder of the “fast” lane.  Taking his lead, I found this spot the flattest of the road.  Cars whizzing by in the opposing lanes was a bit unnerving.  I could only hope that a car didn’t do some kind of twist over the center divider and end up in my lane.  I took my chances.  My 5 miles an hour was out the window.  By this time I just hoped for a 5:30 finish (more than twenty five minutes slower than my first San Diego R n’ R marathon).

The Slanted Freeway:

With about four miles to go, I COULD NOT increase my speed.  When I looked down at my garmin, I was pretty surprised to see a 14 minute mile.  It seemed I was moving much faster.  I had to push hard to get it to a 12 or 11 minute mile.  Even then, it didn’t last long.  Time really didn’t matter though.  The crowds were so enthusiastic and supportive coming into the finish, I really felt like I had accomplished something major. 

I ran on into the finish having run the entire marathon.  I saw The Jester with a sign that now read, “Only .2 miles to go.”  The announcer called out my name, pronouncing my last name correctly (NO ONE, and I mean no one does that).  I crossed that finish line with a few aches and pains.  And though my time was long for that course (just three minutes shy of 6 hours), I never hit “a wall.”  I never felt like I couldn’t take another step.  I had a dang fun time. 

After guzzling some chocolate milk, I picked up my bag.  Then I went off to Petco Park (The home of the Major League baseball team, The Padres).  There I retrieved my free beer.  I bought a hot dog, put some mustard on it.  Then I sat in the bleachers and watched some of the San Diego Rock N’ Roll Concert.  I didn’t stay long though.  I kind of hobbled down the stairway to the streets of San Diego.  Then I walked several blocks to the Sante Fe Train Depot.

The Walk to the station:

I arrived to the station to learn that I had an hour and 40 minutes to wait for The Coaster!  Dang freezing cold, I wished that I had packed a book to pass the time.  After shivering outdoors in the wind for an hour, I finally went into the station to change into dry clothing.  I peeled my clothing off the chaffing burns and took a good long time changing into warmer clothing. 

Waiting in the cold for my train:

Not my train:

There she is, The Coaster:

Though I wanted dearly to sleep on the way back, I didn’t get a wink.  Most of the passengers were runners or spectators, and chatter was high.  In the car ahead, I could hear a man talking obnoxiously loud.  He was obviously drunk.  He was not a runner, but a “regular” on that route, according to law enforcement who came to confiscate his bottle.  I watched as they threw a large EMPTY bottle of vodka into the trash.  Other passengers reported that the guy was guzzling it like water.  I thought to myself, “he’s got to be sick.  I would surely die drinking that much vodka that quickly.”  Seriously.  Dead.  Gone.  Poisoned to death.

The man was eventually booted from the train before our final stop.  That’s when I caught a glimpse of him out the train window.  He was perhaps about my age.  He lurched here and there, struggling to strap on his backpack.  Then he stumbled so badly onward that I was surprised he didn’t fall.  His walk was so ridiculously uncontrollable that he would accidently turn around and walk in the opposite direction, apparently not realizing it.  He made a big impression on my trip this day.  This is why I write about him now.  I was so terribly sad to watch him.  I thought for sure he was going to get hit by a train.  And I felt more than ever so fortunate for having just finished a road marathon, even though I came in much after my desired time.

Back at home, the ankle pain set in.  Unable to walk without a severe limp, I wore an ankle brace for the next two days.  On the third day, though sore, I was able to slip my feet into heels and go off to work without a limp. 

What a long strange trip it had been.  Yay!  What fun!

Running San Diego Rock n' Roll Marathon 6-2-2013