Last Week: April 21-27

Sunday: Run 3 mi. Matt and I spent the day marking the Avenue courses.  Those three miles were official, but the real running mileage was probably 5-6.  It was great to get another course preview.

Monday:  Rest!  Didn't want to rest on this one at all, but I did because I know it will help me feel better on race day.

Tuesday:  Run 5 mi. fartlek.  Strength: Core, legs.  Warm sunshine day.  A trigger point in my back made this one less fun even though the weather was perfect. I wore a tank top for the first time this year.

Wednesday:  Run 6 MRP.  I seriously felt like I was melting for this run, as it was way too and dry hot for what I'm used to (foggy and 50 and air so thick I can drink it).  Our town set a new high temperature record for this day.  California seriously has wimped me out on the heat, because really, 75F isn't all that warm.  I can do bitter cold, but the heat kills me every time.  Gutted it out and still hit paces. (Goal: 7:49-8:00)

Thursday:  Run 5.5 mi, 5x800.  A family of deer enjoyed watching us from a grassy spot above the track.  They got up and left just seconds after I finished my last repeat.  After doing mile repeats most of the season at this same pace, these felt very easy.  It felt like I wasn't even trying.  When I doubt myself, I remind myself how over the moon I felt about this run. (Goal: 3:25-3:30)

Friday:  Run 4 mi. easy.  This one felt great, the sun was warm, but it was more than windy enough to make it nice.  It was unscheduled, but I needed to get out and play a little. :)  I also got a massage to get rid of that trigger point.  I almost jumped off the table several times, but I think she got it out.  No more pain. 

Saturday: Run 8 mi.  This was our last long run before Avenue.  The air was back to normal and drizzled a little.  It felt good.  Miles 3-4 were on the sidewalk along the Rhododendron Parade route and it was energizing to run with some background music and entertainment.  Asked Matt if we could join the parade, he said no.  Party pooper.

This is how I like my air: cool and saturated, like drinking a glass of water.

TOTAL MILES:  31.5

Notes:  The spot on my back bothered me a lot during the week.  I worry too much about little nagging spots when I taper.  Clearly training does more than keep just my legs busy.  After Saturday's run, I've felt a drastic increase in energy, especially in daily activities.  I've been a non-stop baking machine.  The house is pretty clean too.  One last week of resting and it's race day!

Running Adventures on the Taper

As my mileage continues to dwindle as we approach marathon day, I find no shortage of activities to fill my day.  Last weekend, I ran a total of nine miles, but it was a very running oriented two days.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

Saturday, I volunteered at the Master's Run, a 10K race only open to runners 40 years and better.  On several occasions, I've had friends tell me I'm not allowed to run it, just in case I forgot what masters meant.  I've got a good solid decade before I'm allowed to run with them, they say.  Even so, several people asked if I was injured when I said I wasn't running.  I don't really look like I'm 40 do I??

This race is unlike the other club ones.  On an age graded scale I don't quite understand, the oldest person gets the biggest head start.  In our club's case, it was Lynn, at 79 years old.  Most people began a full twenty minutes after her.

The exciting part was watching the finishes that sparked unusual rivalries.  The best finish duel went to Ken (71 years old) and Brett (44).  Ken once held the national record for indoor marathon (2:35:52) and a 41 year daily running streak until 2010.  Brett runs the occasional race solo and with his four year old son.  He often tells me I need to slow down so he can catch me.  Ken won this duel by one second. I love that the photo caught the moment that Ken noticed he was being chased down.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo.

I manned the aid table.  I almost wish I was a masters runner so I could indulge in all the food (oh wait, I did anyway, hehe).  From cookies to pound cake, chips to chocolate, almond, and soy milk; there was something for everyone's tastes.  It makes the finish food table at our race look like there's a famine.

Sunday, Matt and I drove the Avenue of the Giants Marathon, half and 10K course remarking the permanent paint signs on the roadway with the race director and her husband.  Due to recent resurfacing of portions of the first half of the course, many markings disappeared.  We had to estimate the mile #3 and #4 spot, but the rest of them were all intact even if a little difficult to find.  It made me both excited and a little nervous about the marathon.  It definitely isn't flat.  Gary assured me that helping with this would give me a mental edge because I knew the course and mile markers better than most people.  It also earned Matt and I our comp entries into the race.

Marathon course mile 14-15ish, Half course mile 2

Then Matt and I did a short trail run on an unmarked trail that can best be described as the Poison Oak Challenge.  I'm just discovering new blisters that go with the scabbed over ones still healing from our Lost Coast trip.   Oh goody. :)

The majority of this week has been dedicated to resting, stretching, and building a chicken house.  With Matt's recent promotion and committing to stay longer, we're welcoming some tasty meat chickens into our home.  Zoey has never seen chickens before so we'll be excited to see her reaction.  Matt is just excited to tell anyone who'll listen that he's going out tomorrow at 8:30 to pick up chicks. ;)

What's your favorite thing to do when you're tapering?

Last Week: April 14-20

Sunday:  Hike 6.5 mi.  Lost Coast, part 1.

Monday: Hike 10.5 mi.  Lost Coast, part 2.

Tuesday:  Hike 9.5 mi.  Lost Coast, the final day.

Wednesday: Hike 2 mi. in the Redwoods.

Thursday:  Run 5 mi.  2x1600m with the Tri Club. This was the day I felt the worst with the cold, so I decided to keep the workout short.  I ran hard the first one (and ran my fastest mile ever) and then got a dizzying sinus pressure on the second one and called it a day.  What you see below is: warm up mile, some 100m strides and recoveries (that mystery 3 min), (1600m fast, 400m recovery)x2, and cool down 1.25 mi. to get me an even 5 mi.  The tri club is really great about getting a thorough warmup beforehand, but this week it left me pretty tanked when I started the repeats.

Friday: Run 5 mi. easy.  Strength: Core, legs, butt.

Saturday: Run 6 mi. MRP @7:51/mi.  I didn't enjoy this run at all.  It was a gusty wind day and the day before my period.  Just the latter alone usually translates to feeling like garbage no matter what workout I do, so it might as well be MRP, right?  I am happy that my period won't be anywhere near an issue for race day. :) 

Total Miles: 44.5
Hiking 28.5
Running 16

Notes:  This was taper week #1 (of 3) and didn't feel restful at all.  Hiking miles feel very different from road running miles.  I caught a cold on Tuesday, thankfully the worst of it was short lived.  There's a little tightness in my chest when I run, but other than that, I think the majority of the cold is gone. 

Since the week was heavier with long slower stuff, I nixed all my easy runs and long run and just squeezed in a short track workout and a marathon pace run.

Matt and I are beginning to devise our race day plan now too.  Since the course is a double out and back, it is split evenly into four neat parts.  It will be easy to build a strategy from and I'll get to cheer for Matt a couple of times!!   In a later post, I'll write more about goals and my plan. 

If you are a lady, do you ever notice whether your cycle affects your workouts?  I've been noticing mine for a few years, and the day before and first two days are awful for everything.  Every other day is fine.

If you are a guy, have I scared you away yet? aren't you glad you don't have to deal with this?  I'm glad Matt doesn't think this is all in my head.  He's actually the person who noticed it before I did.

Lost Coast Trail, the last day.

April 16 

Matt always mentions that the last day of every backpacking trip, I speed up.  I found this laughable as Joel and Kim slowly pulled away from us as we walked south along the beach.  I start out slowly each day and stay that same pace, not slowing as I fatigue more.  My legs get into a rhythm and they just keep going without much thought to forward motion.  This third and final day of our marathon length journey also coincided with the onset of a cold.  I was also very sick of the wind.  My hands and face were chapped even though they were mostly out of the wind.

We crossed many creeks of varying depths and difficulty.  At a few streams, Joel and Kim teased that our decision was like the game we played as kids, Oregon Trail.  Do we take the ferry, caulk the wagon and float it across, or do we ford the river?  If we chose the wrong thing, we would lose the children and half of our supplies!  We found no ferries but often took the other two options.

The only casualties were pruned toes later in the day.  Personally, I enjoy taking my shoes off and fording the river.  The water was cold and comforts the achy spots on my feet.  When I reached the other side, I carefully dried my feet and they suddenly became thankful to return to the warm wool socks and hiking boots. 

The previous day's storms had passed and we were reluctant to remove our rain gear.  Eventually the temperature warmed up enough that I roasted beneath my coat and I removed a few layers.  After walking several miles, I realized this was the first time I wore shorts on a beach in California.  Erase all visions of sunny, sandy, warm beaches floating in your mind.  This isn't southern California....but it is more beautiful, more isolated.

After the first two miles of our day, we spotted houses perched on hills down the coast.  We spent much of the morning convinced that the small resort town of Shelter Cove was actually a mirage.  It never seemed to get any closer.

Compared to previous days, these beaches were flat and moderately firm walking.  We made excellent time.  By noon, we were just two miles from town.  Tucking ourselves behind a few tall rocks, we stopped for an extended lunch break while we watched the waves crashing forcefully on the beach.  It is always difficult to tell whether Joel enjoys the adventures we take him on.  He doesn't complain, yet he doesn't openly say he's having fun either.  Then he asked if this trail was part of the Pacific Crest Trail.  "I think I want to backpack some of that sometime," he said.  Suddenly, he sounded like I do when I'm having a great time, I plan my next adventure.  Mission accomplished.

When we reached the parking area at Black Sands Beach, we moved to road and hiked the steepest hill of our entire trip, a 600 ft. climb on a paved road leading into town.  Joel bent over with his arms tucked to his chest.  "When I'm climbing a big hill, I pretend I'm a T-rex," he said bearing his teeth, "it makes things easier."  We all followed suit, laughing and growling as we worked our way uphill.  I'll have to remember that trick for later, haha.

By 3pm, we had reached the Focus and she took us out for some well-deserved ice cream.  On a recommendation, we decided to spend the night at Inn of the Lost Coast, a hotel perched above one of those cliffs we'd been seeing all day long.  Every room had a view.  The view from the hot tub was incredible.  I would enjoy a weekend trip here just to sit in the hot tub all day, wouldn't you?

Our drive back on Wednesday included another stop to hike in the Redwoods.  Then we dropped our exhausted friends at the airport.  That's what 30 miles of hiking (27 with loaded packs on soft sand) and some running will do to anybody over the course of five days.  On the tails of my last pre-taper running week, I was pretty wrecked too.

Thanks for a great visit, Kim and Joel.  Hopefully we'll be able to make a trip on the PCT together soon.

 

How do you like to cross streams that are too high for your shoes: get your shoes wet or take them off?  

When I trail run, I leave them on, but on a multi-day trip with Goretex boots that don't drain, I always take them off if I think water will flood over the top.

Lost Coast Trail, part 2.

We began our day with a stream crossing and rainbow.  Following our fearless weatherman's lead, we removed our rain gear and crossed Cooskie Creek.  The sun had been out all through breakfast.  Then a cloud promptly lowered itself upon us and not only rained that super fun sideways rain, but it hailed a bit too.  Did I also mention that I had chosen that same moment to go to the bathroom?  My legs and backside glowed a bright red in the cold wind.  Not my favorite way to start the morning.

Soon we were continuing on along the beach.  Now that my backside was securely sheltered, it wasn't so bad. The rain shower continued as we approached our first hikers of the day.  They were heading north, directly into the driving rain.  The first group looked cold and wore ponchos instead of rain coats.  The second group, dressed more like hikers that expected to get wet greeted us with smiles.  "Nice morning for a walk on the beach, isn't it?" they asked once we were close enough to hear.  Attitude is everything...and apparently, not getting caught with your pants around your ankles when the hail hits.

Just as we were thoroughly soaked through, the rain subsided and sun appeared.  This was basically the way the day continued, but once our pants dried, we kept the rain gear on.  We were done playing games with Mother Nature and her shenanigans. 

Eventually, the trail left the rocky beach and meandered along an open plain.  Great hillsides of poppies added orange flair to the green grasses.  Even the poppies were reluctant to open on this wet day, they knew enough to stay bundled up.  The fields eventually changed to those of my favorite wilderness flower, lupine.  If I were to look at photos from my Alaska backpack adventures, about half of them would be of this incredibly photogenic and common plant that just happens to be my favorite color.  It is a little harder to find here in my part of California.

We also marveled at the amazing rocky designs of some cliffs.  Zebra stripe cliffs we called them, but I don't know what they really are, Matt suspected they had something to do with a nearby fault line.

I sometimes feel like I slow down my friends when I take as many photos as I do on these trips.  Frequently, they stop to wait when they realize I'm not right behind.  I often sneak away intentionally and catch up, other times I'm too far behind and unable to.  Thankfully, it never bothered these friends.  Their only suggestion was that I take some photos of when the weather wasn't pretty and sunshine.  Okay, here it is guys: 

It looked like this about 60% of the day.

The other 40% looked like this:

Weatherman Cloud Porn

this:

One of my favorites from the entire trip.

and this:

We were finally sick of the wind for the day when we reached the point where Rattlesnake Ridge trail branches off.  It was one hour before high tide, and we decided to call it a day and leave the last stretch of beach for our final day.  Kim and I set up the tents together, throwing all our things inside to keep them from blowing away. 

Out of the wind, it felt sunny and wonderful and all of us walked around barefoot that evening (I later got Poison Oak on my feet, so yeah, bad idea).  We had dinner with the company of many deer.  They were unafraid and were equally entertained by us as we were with their dinnertime gymnastics routines as they reached for the good leaves way up high.

Our evening was spent playing euchre.  I have to relearn how to play every time we visit with Joel.  For the second day in a row, I suggested I sit out and watch them play.  For the second day in a row, I got a really great nap out of it.  Some taper this was turning out to be, hehe. :)

Lost Coast Trail, part 1

I don’t know how you begin a mileage taper, but mine often includes hiking or backpacking and beating myself up a little further.  During the taper, I get back to the things I love that get neglected when all I do is run run run.

The sun shone brightly by 7am.  We lazily ate our oatmeal as the river valley filled with morning light.  A steady north wind blew on our backs from that first step onto the beach and only intensified throughout the day.  We were glad to be south-bound and would repeat this very phrase for the next few days.  If I can offer one piece of advice for this trip, this is it:  Hike north to south.  By 8am, we encountered our first hiker.  “Slept in, did we?” he asked.  I never get up at 6:30 on a Sunday morning so it felt early to me!  It only made us wonder what time he got up.

Going was slow through the soft, black sand.  The grains were coarse and never firmed up, even while we walked just above the surf line.  I was thankful for the large pebble sand in the fact that it never got into my hiking boots.  

We reached Punta Gorda Lighthouse around 9am.  Standing in the shelter of the lighthouse, it easily felt 20F warmer out of the wind.  We paused briefly to climb the light tower and reapply sunscreen.  It was then we realized that Matt packed our almost empty tube rather than the new, full one.  Oops.  We’d all be slightly barbecued by Tuesday when we reached civilization again.

The swift wind made it difficult to chat while we hiked.  I both love and hate this type of backpacking.  I bring friends for company, but it is a little frustrating to walk in silence.  On the other hand, it really helped me absorb the surroundings.  I thought back to a decision Matt and I had made the week prior.  Matt was recently offered a promotion within his office.  It moved him one step closer to the job he hopes to one day hold (one that is free of shift work!!), gave him more leadership responsibilities, and more monies.  But it also meant possibly making it more difficult to move away and committing ourselves here for at least a few more years.  Thankfully, this opportunity came just as my allergy symptoms abated and we were able to accept.  We really do like it here when my head isn’t all foggy.  Walking along the beach in the sunshine, cerulean waves crashing against the beach, I couldn’t help but smile thinking about how we made the right decision.  There is so much of this area that we have yet to explore.  It isn’t our time to leave yet.

Before long, I was pulled from my daydreams.  An unusual yelping, but decidedly animal noise came from the water.  It only grew louder.  Then a few rocks offshore came into view.  Dozens of sea lions played and jockeyed for the prime spot on each rock.  They were enjoying the sunshine just as much as we were.  

Around each corner brought us a new isolated cove.  Mountains of the King Range dove swiftly into the ocean, waves crashing at their feet.  This coastal range is the most underdeveloped part of the California coastline.  Its rugged terrain is why Hwy 1 moves inland south of here; nobody wants to build a major road through this area.  Too bad, all the gorgeous views would be left to us hikers and the occasional private landowner.

This trip stretched our personal experience limits a bit further than before; we had to now consider the tide.  Nearly half of the miles we covered on the trip were impassible during high tide.  We had to plan our travels to ensure we didn’t get trapped between the waves and rocks.  By 1pm, three hours before high tide, we reached a tight spot.  Between waves, we had about 10 foot wide path of sand over which to travel.  Waves were about 5 seconds apart.  Matt counted out loud to himself, “3-2-1”, and then ran off around the rocky point.  Joel did the same and then disappeared.  Then it was my turn.  My heart raced.  I released the buckles on my backpack and took a deep breath.  People get swept out in less than knee deep water, I thought.  Then I went for it.  Relief washed over me as the foamy remains of surf splashed onto my boots.  Whew, made it.

About 20 minutes later, we approached another rocky point just like the previous one.  In between the waves, I dashed out to check what the beach was like around the corner.  It was large boulders.  We couldn’t make this sprint in that short amount of time like before.  We had to climb over it.  I hate climbing, especially with a backpack.  I am basically one armed when it comes to pulling myself up.  I can help balance with my left arm, but it has no flexibility and would likely break if required to hold my body weight.  I was the slowest climber as we moved from the large boulders to the muddy, washed out hillside.  I did catch a glimpse of a marmot on one of the rocks that looked at me curiously as if he were asking, “What’s the big deal lady?  Hurry up!”

This was Kim's first backpacking trip, I never would have guessed.

After those two hairy spots, we were thankful that the trail rose onto a bluff overlooking the beach.  We passed through large fields of California poppy flowers.  We climbed over beaches of boulders and driftwood.  We decided to set up camp up the Cooskie Creek drainage at about 3pm.  High tide was coming soon and we didn’t want any more close encounters along the very rocky beach ahead. 

That evening, we build a fire out of driftwood and enjoyed sampling each other’s Mountain House meals.  I’m usually against them, but I have to say I enjoyed the Macaroni and Cheese.  The campsite was beautiful, soft for sleeping and had a creek nearby.  Perfect.

What time do you get up in the morning when you are backpacking?  I usually let the sun wake me up, then snarl at the world for half an hour before leaving the tent.

Does the name Cooskie look like cookie to you too?  I swear it made me really hungry for cookies when I looked at that name on the map.

Lost Coast Intro

Once again, our little Ford Focus impressed us.  Driving up the steep gravel switchbacks of Wilder Ridge Rd, she powered up in first gear, throwing gravel everywhere as she growled mightily.  She spent most of the next 25 miles in second gear and only required a little bit of extra fuel in return.  Driving to our adventure, as is the norm in the King Range, is almost equivalent in exciting adventure to the one we were driving to.

A quick stop to meet the Redwoods on the way there.

After we dropped our car off to rest for the weekend on the cliffs overlooking the ocean in Shelter Cove, we made the same nauseatingly difficult drive with Danny’s dad, Dale, shuttling us to our starting point.  I munched quietly on Sun Chips and he and Matt talked about the weather and crops he was planting at his farm in the Mattole Valley.  Instead of Dramamine, I’ve found that eating something salty eases my queasy carsick stomach.  By the time we arrived at the Mattole Beach campground, Joel, Kim and I had plowed through that entire bag.  As is often the case, the skies cleared to show off our home.  Joel and Kim, our visiting college friends from Michigan, agreed that it would be fun to backpack the Lost Coast Trail.

Sleeping next to the ocean that night was LOUD.  “It was like sleeping in a tent on the shoulder of I-496,” Joel said as he described a highway near his home.  Kim disagreed, it was more like I-69 instead.

Mouth of the Mattole River, easily one of my favorite places in Cali.