Labor Day Run

Another day off, and it’s so early in the school year. Monday was Labor Day, a national holiday we celebrate in the U.S. that honors the labor movement and the contributions workers have made to this nation that I gladly call home. Most people don’t work on Labor Day, but many, so, so many do – for example, department and grocery stores, gas stations, restaurants and such were open. But we had no mail delivered, schools were closed (and so was Costco), trash was not picked up, streets were not swept, and banks shut their doors too.

Traditionally, there is no big celebration for this holiday, though it’s thought of as the last hooray for summer. Mostly, people take quick little trips to the beach or river – they picnic, hike, bike ride,  4-wheel, or have BBQs at home. I did none of the above. But I did get a new kitten – an 8 week old, blue-eyed, white ragdoll mix.

I love her.

Picking up our new kitty, not to mention purchasing all the essentials (bowls, bed, scratcher, litter box, etc), put me way off schedule concerning squeezing in a run on this Labor Day. I got out pretty late, about 4PM, which was a good thing. It was a good thing because the weather was rather mild and breezy by that time. It really was the best weather for an end-of-the-summer Labor Day run. And being out this late in the day, most people had ended their adventures, returning home for that BBQ dinner in the backyard, thus the trails were fairly empty. I myself had dinner cooking in a slow-cooker (beef stroganoff), so I had all the time in the world.

In all, I put in a tad over 7 miles, running all of Wood Canyon in Aliso Viejo in its entirety and back. Nothing spectacular happened. But it was a spectacular run.

Happy Labor Day!

One for the Views

Work was cancelled for me Friday, which freed up many hours to get my house in order. Unfortunately, no matter what I do, I always feel like my house is not in order. But I keep trying. So, after getting my youngest off to school, I loaded the truck up with boxes of books, toys, clothing and such to drop off at the Salvation Army. Back at home I vacuumed floors, cleaned the bathroom, washed dishes and laundry. Finally, about 12:30 PM, I filled my hydration pack with water and popped in a Nuun tablet, put on my running shoes, and drove the toll road through the coastal hills to Ridge Park in Newport Coast.

My feet finally hit dirt around 1PM, and it was hot. I didn’t expect anything less – it was after all September 2 (just about the hottest time of the year around here). The heat is the reason I opted to stay up on the ridges overlooking the Pacific Ocean. You’d think with no shade whatsoever, the ridges would be the hottest spots on trails. But not in the coastal hills – up on the ridges is where you get to feel the ocean breezes. And up on the ridges is also where you get the awesome views.

I chose an out-and-back for simplicity’s sake. I’ve been going for the out-and-back’s lately, even though I really am a loop gal. It’s much easier to come up with a route with the precise mileage I want with an out-and-back. I simply turn around and head back at the half-way mark. On Friday, I figured I’d go for 7 or 8 miles, and the best way to do this was Bommer Ridge to Moro Ridge and back. In my mind, I felt that Moro Ridge was at most 2 miles.

I suppose it was the heat of the day, and time as well, that made the trails virtually empty on this day. The emptiness was serene. I felt comforted by it, and secure and confident in the loneliness. I especially like empty trails in the coastal hills where I feel relatively safe. I am rarely without cell service in these areas, and access is not so remote should I find myself injured.

Ended up that Moro Ridge was significantly longer than I remembered. I ran it up until the trail starts to descend down toward Pacific Coast Highway. That put me at about the 4.6 mile mark. Though the return trip was mainly uphill, I did not find it excruciatingly difficult, as the incline was gradual. Don’t get me wrong – it still wiped me out, but it didn’t beat me up and spit me out. Though nearly sweltering, this run with a view was well worth the time, and I’m thinking it did me good, by pushing my mileage up just a tad. And even if it didn’t, it was still nice to be out in the not so remote wilderness overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Total miles: 9.2, Elevation gain: 800’

Flagpoles

I’m a little behind here in jotting down my runs, so here it goes quick as can be: Last Sunday, August 28, I had the rare opportunity of late to run in the mountains and with friends. I met long time running friend Sheila and her friend Robert at Santiago Truck Trail in the Saddleback Mountains, and we did 7+ mile out-and-back to the flagpole. Sheila and I have run this on other occasions, but it was Robert’s first along this single-track that was once a truck trail.

As we do on group runs, the distance between us lengthened at many points, with Robert up ahead, Sheila in the middle, and me at the tail (no surprise there ). Having started off fairly early (8AM – which is pretty dang early for me, not so for Sheila), we escaped some of the heat. But by the time Sheila and I reached the flagpole across from the vulture crags, it was starting to warm up significantly. Herein is where the adventure lies in this story: Robert was not at the flagpole. And we didn’t see him pass us if he had headed back.

Certain that he must have kept on running for some extra miles, Sheila headed off further along the trail to check around the bend about a three-quarters of a mile away. I stayed back taking in majestic scenes. I wasn’t ready to increase mileage yet at this point. I am trying to be very careful about that, mainly at my husband’s urgings. Alas, Sheila returned empty handed, having not seen any sign of Robert. That’s when some of the mountain bikers overhead us talking and said they had seen a runner some miles back asking if they had seen two women running. They hadn’t of course at the point, and what the heck was Robert doing back there anyway – surely we would have seen him pass us along the trail!

Perplexed, we headed off back toward the trailhead. And it donned on me – he must have gone to the other flagpole! “What other flagpole?” Sheila proclaimed. Hehe, now that was funny. Sadly, I had never mentioned the other flagpole. I myself hadn’t even noticed the other flagpole until after many runs along this trail, and it isn’t actually on Santiago Truck Trail. The other flagpole flies up on a hill that you need to take another trail up to. I’ve trekked up there before – and it was not fun, so steep and rocky, and overgrown the trail was.

Well, to make a long story short, I’ll quicken it up right here to say that, yes indeed, Robert did go to the wrong flagpole. Frankly, I was amused, and love stories like this. You can imagine how he felt when he ran back to the cars to see that we weren’t there. It was a mystery to Robert until he took his phone out of the car and called Sheila on the trail. So, turns out this was not all for moot – I found out (never really knew) that we have cell phone service on Santiago Truck Trail.  And from that point on, I couldn’t get this song out of my head: Flagpole Sitta (by Harvey Danger). The tune lingered in my mind all day long.

8 Mile Hometown Loop

Sunday was like one last hooray for me, which is why I couldn’t pass up a run even though I had little energy to put in even a mile. This week, it’s back to work for me at full-force, teaching adults at three different schools. I’m going to be living out of my truck most of the time, hitting the gym in between classes when I can. Though I am anxious regarding getting back on a busy work schedule, I think it’s good for me. I do best with a routine.

The weather wasn’t too warm when I set out from my house at 2PM on Sunday. But it was windy, especially so for the first two miles of this eight mile hometown loop. Frankly, the wind made it so tough (as I was going against the wind), that I let it discourage me some, and resorted to walking here and there in the beginning. When I finally turned inland, the wind didn’t cause as much trouble, but my foot sure did. Will I ever get rid of this foot pain? Hitting the sand was an extremely welcome relief. Don’t think I had foot pain at all whenever I got the chance to hightail it off of the cement. And I took that chance as often as I could.