Way Past the Fact

Having posted an Old Goat 50 link in my last entry, I just read through it myself.  And I must say that the Old Goat report did not relay everything that I would have wanted, had I waited before writing it.  I think it might be better to let more time pass before making a race report.  Way past the fact, two things that seemed minor at the time, ALWAYS come to mind when I think of Old Goat 50, and I didn’t include them in my report.   

First, when I passed that Holy Jim aid station more than a year ago, before the eight mile uphill climb to the peak, I pretty quickly became ill.  I could barely walk, felt like collapsing, was near delirium.  No lie.  There were some hikers up ahead that I managed to pass.  For a while, I only kept a few feet ahead of them as one of the men struck a conversation with me.  He learned from our chat what I was doing, that I was at approximately mile 31 in my quest.  He could tell that I was sick and possibly getting sicker.  He chuckled questioningly, perhaps nervously, and said these words to me:  “And you do this for fun?”

On that same climb, about three miles later, I came upon another hiker.  He was hiking down Holy Jim as I struggled my way up it.  I thought he was a running friend Scott B.  He looked just like him, and I had seen him earlier that day at the eleven mile aid station.  I thought it odd that I’d see him again, here at mile 34.  Still, I didn’t question whether I was talking to Scott when I said to him, “I don’t know if I can go on much longer.”  He in return answered, “Keep going til you cry uncle.”  You can imagine my confusion when I saw Scott again at the Santiago Peak aid station (mile 39).  It was the real Scott this time.  The man, if there really was a man, on Holy Jim, was not the “real” Scott. 

I find it amusing to see what memories stick with me.

Well to the point of today!  I did get in a run.  I didn’t want to go out hard, as Nanny Goat is just days away.  And, I have been cross-training too, so I am quite fatigued.  Today on the 101st day of my fitness streak, I ran 10.75 miles along Arroyo Trabuco trail.  A lovely run, with few obstacles, except for blasted rocks that want to take me down (but didn’t!).  You might recall, my last big fall was on this very trail.  But not today.  NOT TODAY!

Miles logged:  10.75

The Art of Suffering

Somewhere along my journey on the trails, I lost my way.  It didn’t happen all at once, but began when I was training for Twin Peaks 2012, in the last month before the race with my first signs of plantar fasciitis.  That was just the beginning.  Being pulled from Old Goat at mile 41 was the clincher.  I still tear up when I recount that moment when the jeep pulled up and the driver gave me the bad news.   All that work, all that suffering was for nothing.  But it wasn’t really.  I gained a lot that day, though all that new-found knowledge was not immediately known.  

Fast forward to May 2014, I’ve been making my way back since January of this year when I ran the Calico 30k.  I’ve been building up my mileage, albeit slowly.  I’ve been losing some pounds, albeut slowly (11 so far, but hey, at least the scale number is now going down and not up).  I’m also registered for 3 upcoming races, Nanny Goat 24 Hour (very soon!), Spartan Beast (September) and Twin Peaks 50 Miler (October).  And as soon as I get paid, I will register for Harding Hustle 50k (July).  

And then this:  Saturday, while riding the gym bike, I pulled out my complimentary copy of Spartan Up!  And within the first paragraph realized what the heck went wrong with my endurance running.  I realized that while trying to get through these huge challenges, I thought that I needed to “suffer better.”  By “suffer better,” I wanted to more quickly win the mental battles, stop throwing the little temper-tantrums when I couldn’t summit fast enough, and most of all, stop the sobbing.  But somehow that “suffer better” quest turned into “not suffer at all.”  Ya!  Like I’m going to run 30 to 50 miles in the mountains and not suffer!  What was I thinking?  I knew all along, but somehow forgot, that it’s not the “doing” that’s the prize -- it’s the conquering, it’s enduring the suffering to have it come to an end.  I once knew this!  I FORGOT.  Thanks goodness I remembered.  Thank you for the reminder Joe DeSena.  

Once I remembered that it’s not about the suffering, it’s about ENDURING the suffering, it changed a whole lot about my training these past few days.  The very next day in fact, I didn’t wake at the crack of dawn so that I could get my trail run done in cool weather.  Instead,  I went to church with my family (I haven’t done that in a long time!), did some errands and finally hit the trails at 1:30 in the afternoon, in the thick of the heat.  I made the run much more difficult on purpose.  Imagine that!!  The hills were difficult because of the heat, yes, but I gladly endured them.  Climbing Mentally Sensitive was a bear, but somehow it was not as difficult as it normally is.  It wasn’t as difficult because I realized that the prize wasn’t the actual climbing of this monster hill.  The prize was reaching the top, putting an end to my suffering, and looking out over the miles of trails I had already covered.  It doesn’t have to be pretty going up.  But it sure is pretty looking down. :)

Heat and Fire

We began this week with heat.  And it got hotter.  I subbed girls P.E. all day Monday and returned home wiped-out.  I practically had to crawl the minimum mile to keep up my Fitness Streak.

Tuesday, temperatures grew to three digits Fahrenheit.  I thought that I really didn’t have a choice but to run, being that this was the only morning I would have available during the week.  And so I headed out to Wood Canyon where I took Cholla to the ridge and ran to Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  I ran 6.64 miles and drank every single drop of my 70 fluid ounces of water.  Yikes.  I fared pretty well though, I’m sure because of my responsible fluid intake. 

I didn’t realize that the fires had started on Tuesday.  Wednesday, we all knew.  Wednesday came through, and the heat blazed down ever hotter.  Someone said 107 degrees, others 104.  Fueled by high winds, wildfires marched their way through San Diego County.   I live in Orange County, which borders San Diego County, where many of my family and friends reside.  I was kept constantly updated through Facebook or texting.  After another P.E. substitute teaching assignment, I was in no shape to get in a run Wednesday afternoon.  I cross-trained at the gym that night. 

Thursday I subbed P.E. again.  It got hotter, and I first began to see blackened skies from a fire in north county (north county being the northern cities of San Diego County).

Views from my parents’ backyard:

From Airport Park, up the road from their home: 

The nighttime heat was even too much for me to attempt a run on Thursday.  I didn’t even make it to the gym to cross-train.  Instead, I stumbled out my minimum mile. 

Today, we have some relief heat-wise, as the temperatures have dropped into the 90’s.  But the fires have reached my county.  Though I subbed P.E. (and home economics) today, all physical activity was called off at the schools.  We sat in air-conditioned rooms instead and watched movies.  Outside, the skies were gray and smoky.  Having not been out in the heat all day however, I was able to drag myself to the gym for some cross-training this afternoon. 

Hoping to run tomorrow.  Going to prepare like I am, but we shall see what the morning brings.  This fire has got to be gone before I run because I’d rather not run in the smoke (views from San Clemente, the city south of us):

My Lazy Twelve Miles

I woke late for a weekend run yesterday.  It was Mother’s Day in the USA.  And I got to feeling that I should stay home with my family instead of run.  I am a mother after all.  So, after dressing and packing for a run, I sat in my car with its motor running, and changed my mind about running.  I came back into the house so that I could spend the morning with my family (who were all still asleep at the time).  Fortunately my husband heard me, came out into the front room and said, “No way!  Today is your day.  You need to get out and do what you love to do.” 

And so, after an hour drive, thirty minutes of it off road, I headed up Holy Jim Trail at 8:30 in the morning this Mother’s Day.  Then I commenced to run a very lazy 12.71 miles of trail.  I write “lazy” because I really didn’t try at all.  It seemed that I didn’t put any effort into the run whatsoever.  I was there for the scenery, and enjoyed every second of it. 

The first five miles were a switch-back climb up Holy Jim.  I jumped over fallen trees and climbed beneath another.  I listened to a howling wind make its way through the canyon.  And I even took the time to stop at Holy Jim Falls.  It’s about a 1/2 mile detour off the main trail, which I rarely take because I’m usually too eager to make it to Bear Springs, the top of Holy Jim at The Main Divide.  I had a lovely time of solitude at the falls before the numerous hikers I passed along the way made their way to them.  I lost the crowds of hikers as I made my way back to the main trail and started up the big zig-zag alone.  

The wind blew so strongly along The Main Divide that I had to just stop and be there.  Wow.  It’s fierce howling made so much noise, it sounded like a jet airliner was flying close above.  I really just had to stand there (in awe!) and film this short clip so that I could show you a little of what it was like.

Beautiful Wind

I kind of liked running a lazy twelve miles.  It was no pressure, no guilt, no negative self-talk.  And I was actually able to finish strong, and that felt great.  I can’t remember the last time I was able to finish a mountain run that strong.

Miles run 12.71 (my guess was 12.63)