Arimathea,  Hearty congrats on the race! You rock! You mentioned developing equipment. Is there a photographer in your family?

Congrats to all racers! You all have been busy this weekend.

After work I did a run/cardio workout. The talk was very interesting and I enjoyed hearing about the beginning of the school system. We also got a tour of the preserved school we met in. In design it was so much like my elementary school. Ahhh. Brings back memories. My elementary school was razed and rebuilt.

Today will be a track run at the gym.

Happy runs, All!

A quick 2.2. Just wasn't feeling it so stopped the run. Some days are like that. Wasn't a bad run but I just didn't feel like going further.

Tessa  good for you getting stuff cleaned out. Great job on the race. Glad the knee held up

3 miles this morning, dodging puddles.  At least it is warmer today, even though it is raining.

Lisa...nice to have you back.  I like food too much too, wish I didn't.

Karen...Funny, I weighed less than I had in years last year and I didn't run any faster, but that's me, these legs just do not fast.

Wow Tessa on the 50K...glad the knee seems to working with you.  Feels good to get things cleaned out doesn't it?  Our attic is pathetic, one of these years I have to get up there.

Sue...glad you suffered no ill effects from those storms!

Went to the eye doctor this morning, so eyes are dilated.  Supposed to go to work at 1, hopefully the dilation is done by then.

Ginny

Lisa, I never did get a text from you so cc'd you on an email I sent the girls through their blog. If it was my daughter doing that hike I would hope that friends of friends would reach out to her!

Judy, DH used to develop his own photos, but he hadn't done it in many many years. But he wouldn't get rid of the equipment. I doubt there's any market for it since it's all digital now, but DD thinks she may be able to sell it. Sell or donate, either way it's going to be gone.

Susan, yikes on the storms and flash flood warnings! Hope everything is OK. Poor Buddy.

Karen, how frustrating on the car. And I hear you on wanting to lose a few pounds. I gave away a lot of my oversized clothing too.

Marjorie, some runs are not worth it. Sensible to stop if you weren't feeling it.

Ginny, at least it is warmer even if it is raining. Ugh on the dilation. I hate it.

Carol, sympathy on the dental procedure. Feel better.

4 this morning with RN. Hot, dry, and windy here.

Now that I am going to turn 65, I have noticed that many of the races now only have a 60+ for the upper age groups.  Well, Darn.  What's with that???  Guess it makes sense.

Ginny

Leona Divide 2014

This race is a 50/50 (50 miles or 50 km) that for the last few years has started and finished at the Lake Hughes community center in Lake Hughes, CA, on the north slope of the Sierra Pelona range; the route involves fire roads and the Pacific Crest Trail west of San Francisquito Canyon Road. However, in June 2013 the Powerhouse fire burned most of the area and the Forest Service closed PCT from San Francisquito to Pine Canyon Road, roughly miles 470 to 500, which effectively closed the entire race course. The race director, Keira, worked hard to put together a new race course and a month ago we were advised that the race would go on but it would start and finish in Green Valley, another small unincorporated community in the Leona Valley area. Still mostly on PCT but roughly miles 449 to 470 for the 50 mile race, 458 to 470 for the 50K, with 2.6 on pavement and fire roads at the beginning and end of the race to get the runners to and from the community building that was being used as race headquarters.

I wasn’t certain about running this race. Four weeks ago I tripped over a stationary bike at the gym and injured my left knee; urgent care didn’t think it was broken but advised me to see the orthopedist for a follow up. Orthopedist looked at the X rays and the knee and opined that yes the kneecap was cracked but not broken clear through, I should wear a brace and avoid activities that caused pain and come back for follow up X rays in a couple of weeks. I did wear the brace for a while and I found running wasn’t painful, though I was favoring that knee and I was running more slowly than usual.

Follow up X rays showed it was definitely cracked and the orthopedist told me to wear the brace all the time and avoid kneeling, squatting, or lunging. He did say I could run. I mentioned this race. He winced and said “if it doesn’t hurt, I suppose it’s OK”. (He’s treated many runners and knows how much attention we tend to pay to the standard “don’t run for six weeks” advice.) So I headed for the start line.

Running neighbour’s DH was volunteering as a parking helper for prerace, which meant he had to leave at 3 AM, so RN and I left at 4:30 to get up there. She did Boston last Monday and they are both doing a full this coming weekend so they had opted to volunteer and cheer for this race, many of their running club friends were entered. We arrived, were directed to parking, and she was asked to assist at the aid station at 8.6 which is the turnaround for the 50K and mile 8.6/26.6 for the 50m. I got my number and hung around until the 6:30 start.

The 50 milers go off at 6 AM, just under 200 of them, followed at 6:30 by about 190 50k entrants. First 1.6 is up a paved road, Spunky Canyon Road, all uphill. Many runners are walking early on. I do better on pavement than on trail and I don’t mind uphill so I am powering up it. The weather is chilly but not bad and it promises to be a beautiful day, a storm blew through last night and it’s supposed to be in the 80s by Monday but this is a nice day, 50s, not too windy. We turn onto a mile of fire road that accesses Edison power lines, pass someone in a bunny costume beating a drum (really? Really.) then we’re at Aid 1 which we will go through twice more before the end of the day. The course is basically T shaped and we started at the base, now we’re turning onto the right (south) arm of the T to go out 6 miles to Bouquet Canyon Road and another 6 back, the 50 milers will add a further 9 miles to Agua Dulce to make up their additional 18 something miles.

We are now on the Pacific Crest Trail. It is lovely. Ups and downs and turns and twists, which one expects in the Transverse Ranges of Southern California, so we have no long boring stretches of trail. There are wildflowers out and it’s the short season of green growing prettiness. Los Angeles County has a short spring but it’s intensely beautiful.

I spend some time talking to a runner named Steve, who’s doing his third ultra, he runs a restaurant in Las Vegas. We chat for a while, one runner chimes in on the conversation and then apologises for eavesdropping. No worries. I tell him that participating in conversations around you is not rude when you’re doing a race. We are steadily climbing and now we start to see little patches of ice by the side of the trail, it must have hailed hard last night. Good. I hope it hailed a lot on the burn areas, because that’s what the scorched earth needs most – a gentle seep of moisture as the ice melts, rather than hard rain pounding down and washing away the fragile layer of topsoil.

Up and over the crest of this section, the vegetation changes rapidly as the exposure changes. North facing slopes have grass and oak trees and unfortunately plenty of poison oak, south facing slopes have manzanita and chaparral and scrub. The odd sycamore marks a fold in the hillside where there’s enough water runoff to sustain a tree of that size. The only pines we see all day are those planted in small groups during the Johnson administration’s efforts to turn national forests into what they considered “real” forests. This area doesn’t support pine trees naturally. Steve goes ahead with a group of people since he is running and I’m afraid to run fast when I can’t see the trail due to the grasses, I know there are rocks waiting to catch my toe on the trail.

We start downhill and see Bouquet Canyon Reservoir glinting just to the south of us and Bouquet Canyon Road running along its east edge. We know that the turnaround and Aid 2 are on the road, but it’s a long way down and we can’t see the station from where we are. As we progress down the trail we realize that we’re going a long way north during our descent.

I see someone coming towards me at a fairly high rate of speed, it’s the 50K leader on his way back from the turnaround. No worries. I step aside for him, the first of many times today that I’ll give way to oncoming traffic. I get passed by one of RN’s friends and he asks how my knee is holding up. Apparently my dear friend has told everyone she knows that I’m running on a busted kneecap and, while they all understand the tendency of ultrarunners to show up for a race they’ve entered even with broken bones or other injuries, they are solicitous and want to make sure I’m doing all right. I’m fine. Knee’s still there. I reassure him of this and tell him I’ll see him at the finish line.

More people coming towards me. These can’t be in the race! No, it’s a group of elderly hikers with trekking poles who are apparently on an out and back from Bouquet and are surprised to see so many runners on the trail, but they courteously step aside each time a runner approaches. One racer greets them and they have a conversation in what I think is Korean, he is explaining to the hikers what we are doing and how far we are going. They look at us with respect and we return the greeting.

A few more 50K leaders, then the next person coming towards me is a young woman who is not running and who is equipped with a massive backpack including sleeping bag, pad, canteen, and so forth. I ask her if she’s doing a through hike, most of the Mexico-to-Canada hikers are starting at the southern border about now. Yes, she is. She checked snowpack levels and they weren’t too high, we had a dry winter, so she started four weeks ago and here she is. She was not expecting to have approximately 360 runners thundering down the trail towards her on what she thought would be a peaceful day’s hike! I wish her luck and continue down the slope.

Finally I see a series of beach balls and towels and figure the aid station is close. Down into a small creek bed and up again and the aid station volunteers are whooping and hollering. RN and RNDH are there to offer food and drink. Mmm, strawberries. I eat some fruit and a few potato chips and start back up the trail, since this is our turnaround. This allows me to assess where I am in the field. I’m not last, there are probably 8-10 people in the 50K behind me. All the way back up the ridge, I’m running slowly when I can and walking when I must. I pass a few people who ask if I do a lot of hill training. Yes, I certainly do. I live in Canyon Country, after all.

On my way back to the central aid station I am passed by the first guy wearing a 50M bib. Oh my. He can run that fast? Then I assess his back view. Oh. MY. There are advantages to being passed by the lead runners! I trot on, passing a few runners, especially one man whose music I do not like and who is a problem because he can’t hear people behind him trying to pass. I would like to get well away from him.

Near the aid station I pass a thicket of bushes that has a number of lawn chairs nestled in a clearing in the center; the gap between the clearing and the trail is guarded by a plastic Frankenstein. I’m guessing this is a PCT landmark and an opportunity for weary hikers to take a rest or spend the night. There was a cache of 5 gallon water bottles just off the trail near Bouquet, there isn’t much water in the area so trail angels drop off water bottles and refill the empties for the hikers.

I make it back to Aid 1/3/5 by 10:50 and I’m pleased. Stop for more fruit and a drink. The through hiker is there, apparently the aid station volunteers saw her look longingly at the food table and asked if she would like some. She certainly would. There’s not much opportunity to get fresh food anywhere on the trail, and there aren’t many stores in this area, and she is delighted to be offered watermelon, strawberries, oranges, tangerines, and bananas as well as trail mix, potatoes, PB&J, and the other usual aid station fodder. They’re also filling her water containers for her.

I head out down the road, thinking that this is where to go after I see a runner ahead of me heading that way. Wait. The moon is in the fourth quarter and waning, why am I seeing a big rising moon up ahead? Then I realize that a volunteer is having a private moment beside the trail so I avert my eyes and continue. Up, down, up. My quads are starting to talk to me and I am glad I’m wearing that knee brace. I get passed again. Oh, here come two of the spectators/volunteers. They ask me have I been up to San Francisquito yet? No, I haven’t, isn’t it this way? No, it is not. I went the wrong way at the aid station. I am about a mile from it and need to turn around and go back and do 13 miles of PCT before doing this bit.

Let’s just say that I am in the marine insurance industry and the phrase “cuss like a sailor” is in the language for a reason. Good thing there are no small children present. I turn the air blue, turn around, and follow the pair back to the aid station. They are going to remind the staff that they need to make sure everyone going this way has already done BOTH arms of the T, not just the Bouquet Canyon leg. I come through the aid station, seething, and scramble up the trail the way I should have gone half an hour ago. I am mightily irritated and I don’t want to say anything because I will likely say things that all of us will be embarrassed about later. So I stomp off without getting any more water in my bottle.

This segment is tougher than the previous. Steep climb. Mutter mutter grumble grumble. I slowly calm down. Around a corner and there’s a board with the names of the male and female winners of each year’s race listed, plus a bench that’s been put up in memory of the race’s founder, Bob Kimmerly. Rest in peace, Bob, and thanks for your legacy, this is a lovely race. It’s getting windier. I reach the saddle at the top of the mountain and nearly get blown back down the trail.

Pass a couple who are more trail walking than running. They ask an oncoming runner how much further it is to the aid station. She regards them with a bit of pity. It’s about 3.5 miles further. I look at my watch and calculate that it’ll be an hour until I reach it at the pace I’m doing. I can see the trail switching back and forth down a series of folds of mountain and then winding around the corner and out of sight. I know the road isn’t in this valley and I know the turnaround is at a road, so I could have told them we aren’t anywhere near the aid station.

The weather is nice but definitely crisp. I’m glad I wore a LS shirt and can push the sleeves up or down. I have mittens and a windbreaker but haven’t worn them since the Bouquet turnaround, I would prefer not to leave them at an aid station, though, in case I need them. This segment is almost all chaparral, very little water-loving vegetation except a few stands of willow and mule fat in the folds where the water comes down after a rain. Sandy soil, some white, some brown, a lot of decomposed granite, and there are portions of the trail that are very narrow and I walk rather than run. Clamber over granite boulders at one point. I am definitely not running over those – a trip would be dangerous at best and fatal at worst, this whole section is straight up on one side and straight down on the other. I am so glad I am not doing this with everything I need to survive for four or five months, save food, strapped on my back.

I’m constantly being passed by faster runners, but people are nice about passing. And I pass a few. The unplanned detour put me very close to last, however I pass a few 50K runners and I remind myself that I’m not looking for a fast time today. The last trail run I did was Calico. I just want to finish. The downhill is causing my quads to ache and I am afraid of hurting my knee, so I don’t want to trip or stumble.

The trail finally comes up and over another saddle and I look down to see San Francisquito Canyon Road. And ahead and to the right is a purple EZ-Up – yay, the aid station! The wind picks up and I stumble down the trail wiping at my eye, there’s some grit in it. I make it to the aid station and promptly lean into a car to take out my contact lens and wash it off out of the wind, I could easily see the gusts blowing it away. More fruit. They refill my bottle with ice and water.

It’s 1:30 now and I am hoping to be in by 4 PM or so, I have 9 miles to go, so I grab a handful of trail mix and retrace my steps back up the mountain.

This segment seems easier than the outward trip, maybe because I have already covered this portion of the trail once and know what to expect. It’s a long gradual uphill around the side of the mountain, traversing a deep valley, then more uphill. I can’t remember everything about the trail but I do know I have a way to go, I am being careful with the water because I don’t want to run out. I still meet a few people with 50K numbers on so I am not last (yes it’s vain but I’m glad of this) and I am constantly stepping off the trail to allow others to pass or am being invited to pass by polite runners. Nice group.

I was hoping to be back to Aid 1/3/5 by 3:30, but it’s nearly 4 when I finally see their flag and stumble in. And RN is there to run me in, bless her. The station staff refill my bottle with ice and I go down the road I’d mistakenly taken 5 hours earlier. It’s definitely hotter and dustier now and it is so great to have someone with me. We admire all the wildflowers by the side of the fire road, then make it to the pavement and turn downhill. Ow ow OW. This hurts. Knees, quads, calves are all making their presence known. I gimp on, runners passing me at intervals. I have no finishing kick at all. We reach the first of the parked cars and people are cheering us, it’s nice but I just want this to be over. Turn into the driveway and here at last is the finish line. I glance at my watch and figure it took me about 10 hours and 15 minutes. Even with the unexpected detour this was not exactly my best race, but at least I finished it. My official time is 10:09:17, 9^th in my AG, 161 of 170 finishers and there were 4 DNFs in the 50K. 183 finishers and 6 DNFs in the 50M.

There are sandwiches and cookies and chili in the community building and I wash my hands and dig in. Then RN and I go back to my car, I have beer in the cooler and I don’t like the stuff but RN and RNDH do so I brought some, as well as cider for me. As RN points out, runners are a thoughtful lot. If you happen to have some spare beer or some baked goods that are surplus to requirements they will selflessly assist you in disposing of the libations or cookies. I have both. I left a pan of cookies on the refreshments table before the race started, they are all gone, but I kept some back for RN and RNDH who is partial to oatmeal raisin.

I snicker, thinking about Labor of Love where the RD was telling people not to drink in the national forest and a rather surprised Lisa mentioning that at a typical DWD race they have a contest to see how many bottles they can balance on the “no alcohol in the state park” sign.

Runners keep on coming in. The last runner in the 50K crosses the line at 6:30, she’s both dead last and the winner of her age group. All I can say is that I hope I am still doing these when I’m 80 years old! I looked her up on ultrarunner.com results and she has times dating back to the late 1980s. Wow. WOW.

Home, shower, pizza, sleep. I am tired. My right knee hurts from compensating for the injured knee and the left one has a stripe of sunburn where the brace ends. But I am glad I did this one. I will probably never be a really good trail runner and it is wise for me to enter races that have several distances and I’m not doing the longest one, to take advantage of generous time cutoffs and not feel guilty because I’m the last one out there and keeping the volunteers and staff from going home. If that tactic is what works, I’ll do it.

Ginny - Around here, seems like there is usually 60-65, then 70 and up.  Hopefully as more of us move up in those categories they keep adding them

Tessa - Love your RR's.  Sounds like an awesome day. Ha, on the "cursing like a sailor"!  A few times last Saturday, you would hear "oh, sh%#" then the fall happened.  My RB took a pretty good fall, and I remarked she didn't even swear.  She said she NEVER swears...I would have said a few choice words personally.

Karen - I am more then a little nervous about R2R....we know some local's that have done it so they have been giving us advice.

Carol