Courtenay’s been in town, so this morning (which starts at 9 a.m., not 6:30, Courtenay!) we did my favorite trail run loop. She kept saying that if we were going so late, it was going to be hot. I said, “It’s Marin,” ie. it doesn’t get that hot here. Then, she said the same thing to Steve later and he said, “It’s Marin.”

But, it was hot.

I haven’t run that far in over two months. It was fun, since we gossiped and took staged “running” photos. By the end, though, my legs were dead and I was making us stop at every water fountain because I couldn’t swallow — which was still not enough water fountains. Then, we went to Swirl and got frozen yogurt.

These are the things I usually do after a super hot/long run:

  • Stop at the Quick N’ Easy and get an ice cream sandwich
  • Stop at the Quick N’ Easy and just stand in the air conditioning
  • Guzzle a water bottle and then feel slightly sick
  • Lay on the road in the shade
  • Lay on the floor of our condo
  • Eat frozen fruit
  • Stand in the water play structure at the playground and scare all the small children
  • Become incomprehensible for the rest of the day and incapable of work, because my brain has become fried in the sun

The last one is the only guarantee.

What do you do after a hot run?

Why the local teams are closing the gap in the Tour of California… (by me)

Yesterday, we biked up Diablo and drank beers that I had stuck in my jersey pockets and in my water bottle cage.

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I got a hot dog, which was possibly as exciting as watching the race. And then thousands of spectators in costumes, with varying degrees of ability and sobriety, all descended down the hill mixed in with racers trying to get back to their cars.

Today, we watched the Marin stage. (I tried to attach a video, but couldn’t from my phone.) It was much more low-key, possibly because drinking at 8:30 am doesn’t sound that appealing.

Steve and I are headed over to the East Bay to watch the Tour of California stage that’s finishing on Mt. Diablo. (Fun fact: I can bike up Mt. Diablo in 1:03. Steve can do it in something under 50′ — I dunno 46 last time he did it a few years ago? He’ll probably be mad at me now if I got that number wrong.)

Mostly, I’m just going to cheer Nate on, hopefully get some beers and burgers and maybe a free ice cream again from people setting up tents on the side of the mountain, and meet up with Courtenay to ride up the hill. It’s like a cyclist version of a parking lot pre-game rager. If you want to join, the road up the south side of the mountain closes at 2 p.m. to cars. North side stays open the whole time to the ranger station halfway up, where the two meet. The riders are supposed to hit the bottom at 3 p.m. I’ll be somewhere around 3/4 of the way up?

Sunday, the race comes through Marin for the last day’s stage. I wrote all about what the general viewer needs to know (roads will be closed!) and where to watch.

I’ll be out covering the race and spectators and the scene on Sunday. So, you can also find me if you want to make it into the paper or something.

Back to the Track

May 17, 2013 — 2 Comments
Numbers never lie.

Numbers never lie.

Yesterday, I got it into my head I needed to do a track workout to test out my legs, even though I haven’t been to the track since I hurt my foot running on it two months ago. I was hoping that the 5K last weekend was a fluke, what we refer to as “breaking the seal” — that terrible pain/performance your first race back and after which you always do far better.

But, I wasn’t optimistic.

Originally, I was going to get up and bike to the community college for a group track workout of 400s in the morning. But, I hate waking up and I slept poorly (again), so when my alarm went off I just rolled over. This was at the massively early hour of 8:15 a.m. That actually worked out, because I ended up having to knock out some work when I did get up at 9:30 a.m. But, it left me on my own for track.

I went back and forth and back and forth, even heading out for my run at 6 p.m. (a time I had set in my calendar as go time), without being sure if I was going to run on the track or just around the neighborhood. I made it to the track. I went back and forth some more at the track, without being sure if I was going to run the full workout I had in my head or bail halfway. It didn’t help that my arms are still so sore from the Crossfit debacle that I can’t bend them fully.

My plan was: 1 mile, 2 x 800m, 2 x 400m – descend as you go. That was as much detail as I got into. I tentatively thought I should run the mile at 10K pace and descend from there, to test out the idea of racing the Memorial Day 10K in a week. But,if I ran anything under 6:30 I was going to be shocked. (Hell, if I run the 10K at 6:30 pace I’ll be surprised.)

Apparently, I am either not as out of shape as I think or the 5K really did break the seal or I have some inherent speed but no endurance.

I ran a 6:14 mile and felt fine, followed by two 3:02s, and then an 86′ and 85′. All without much trouble. This is insane.

And, then, my “buddy” showed up during the 400s and wanted to talk about Boston. It may surprise you to find I am both tired of people going ‘Wow, that’s crazy. How’d it go’ and also that I dislike talking to people while I’m running in general. I go to the track once a month at random times and he always shows up and wants to talk. I think he thinks we’re friends. That’s almost weirder than how fast I ran.

The less proud Olympic rings.

The less proud Olympic rings.

These are some amazing pictures of decaying Olympic buildings and facilities after they’ve been emptied out. The Sarajevo ones are crazy, but even the Beijing facilities have begun falling apart.

Boston non-finishers will get to race Boston Marathon 2014. I kept emailing BAA back and saying I didn’t count as a non-finisher, because my lack of finish had nothing to do with anything that happened — and I didn’t want a finish medal or time or special treatment. It looks they got it, since this only applies to those who reached the halfway but couldn’t finish.

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If you follow me on the twitter, then you might have seen me post this yesterday while I was standing in a gravel parking lot waiting for Steve to come get me. Posting this was actually quite challenging as I was having to hold one of my arms up by the wrist with my other arm, so as to support the weight of my phone, which I couldn’t do one-handed at that point.

Yesterday, after my super “big” run of Monday, I planned to continue this whole training momentum thing and bike home from Mill Valley — about an hour ride — and stop at the Crossfit gym halfway to do the 5:30 p.m. class. I really didn’t expect this to be a problem. Yes, Crossfit can be stupid, but generally I have no trouble doing the workouts.

After a warm-up and stuff, this was the workout for yesterday:

5 rounds of:

  • 20 pull-ups
  • 30 push-ups
  • 40 sit-ups
  • 50 squats

(3′ rest between each round)

Yes, that looks hard, but my logic was 1. the handful of times I have been to this Crossfit gym I have been solidly in the upper half of people in terms of fitness, so 2. they wouldn’t give us something more than 50% of people couldn’t do. You’ll be able to do it, especially since 3. you can modify things, so that (for example) I was doing pull-ups using a resistance band to give me support, since I can only do three pull-ups without support. And, 4. 3′ is plenty of time to rest in between.

I was totally wrong. My arms completely failed me, in a way I’ve never experienced before. By the end of the second round I was doing the push-ups on my knees. Poorly. I can’t even remember ever having to do push-ups on my knees. Not even that time I did 300 pushups (broken up on each yard line) as part of a challenge in high school and my arms were shaking so visibly people could see them wobbling across the football field.

By the third round, I was using the biggest resistance band I could find for my pull-ups and I was having to stop every two push-ups (still on my knees) because I couldn’t make it all the way up.

The last two rounds, I even switched it so the push-ups were first — on the logic that then they’d be easier because I wouldn’t be tired yet. (I had been doing it starting with the sit-ups and rotating through.) I managed about ten really bad push-ups on my knees and then I had to do them one at a time, stopping in between each one when my arms collapsed and I fell on my face. By the very last 15 or so, I basically just fell onto my stomach and then tried to push my chest up off the ground. AND I FAILED AT IT.

I have never not been able to push myself up off the ground.

The very last pull-ups of the very last round — my last thing — a decent number of people were already done, because either they had bailed or they actually had some arm strength. Everyone watched me, then, when I stopped to take a break halfway through my pull-ups and the super thick resistance band I was using for support snapped up and got stuck around my thigh. With one foot on the box I had used to reach the bar and one leg stuck in this band, I was hopping up and down. But, my arms were so tired (and the band was so thick) that I couldn’t pull it back down from where it was stuck on my leg. I flailed about and then I figured, ‘screw it, at least this is a break,’ and I just stood there until the instructor came and pulled the band down, so I could get unstuck.

And, then I did my last 10 shitty pull-ups.

Even after it was done and I was destroyed, incapable of picking up my water bottle to drink my water, I was still totally fine aerobically. You want me to squat for hours? No problem. So, after 10′-15′, I got back on my bike to head home, but my arms couldn’t even support the weight of me leaning on the handlebars. I was weaving back and forth in traffic for about 10′ before I stopped and made Steve come to get me.

I’m not totally sure if that workout achieved anything other than making it impossible for me to do any work last night. I’m not sure if I’ll be better at push-ups next time, because I’ve never been that bad before. Or, if the whole thing was just about a new experience. Yay.

Yesterday, I did an actual trail run, like a hard(ish) one, and my leg didn’t give out. Crazy.

For some reason, I decided it was a good day to run up Mt. Baldy in San Anselmo/Ross, which isn’t actually a mountain at all, but a large hill with odd prominence because there’s nothing else around it. Technically, it’s called Bald Hill, but if you say you went for a run up Bald Hill no one in Marin will respect you — or know what you’re talking about.

Historic photos of Mt. Baldy from back in the day when San Anselmo was just the seminary at the base of the hill.

Historic photos of Mt. Baldy from back in the day when San Anselmo consisted of just the seminary at the base of the hill.

 

The second week we moved to Marin, back in 2008, I went to a group run with Tamalpa and we did this loop run up Mt. Baldy and then down the other side. That time I didn’t walk at all, because I was terrified of getting lost and wanted to keep the front people in my sight. (Fear is my most powerful athletic motivator.) But, the two or three times I’ve done it since then, I almost always end up walking a little bit because it’s just so damn steep.

The Phoenix Lake trail.

The Phoenix Lake trail. From Marin Mommies.

Start out parking by the Lagunitas Tennis Club in Ross and run into Natalie Coffin Greene Park and up the main trail to Phoenix Lake. (You can also park next to the Ross Commons – necessary on weekends – or at the parking lot at the Phoenix Lake trailhead, but there’s usually a line of cars waiting for one of the 10 parking spots in that lot to open up.)

At the top of the main trail, as you come up on Phoenix (pictured at left), you could turn left and go across the dam and run around the lake.  Also a good time. But, don’t. Stay on the big trail to the right as it weaves around the lake. There’ll be lots of people on this trail and other trails leading off it, etc.

After 1-2 miles of running, depending on where you parked, you’ll be at an intersection. You could take one of the two steep trails (Fish Grade or Eldridge) to your left to go to the upper lakes or you could take the small single-track and continue around Phoenix Lake. Instead, if you just keep going more or less straight, the trail turns into Shaver Grade, a gentle 1.5 mile climb up from the lake.

At the top of Shaver is an intersection where five trails meet, creatively named Five Corners. It also, most importantly, has a bathroom. (And a permanent sign warning of mountain lions.) Most of these trails lead you to the other lakes or down to Deer Park. Take the really stupid steep looking trail to your immediate right, before the bathroom. It’s only steep for 100m or so and then opens up onto a nice single-track trail that weaves along the edge of the hills.

That single-track eventually dumps you out at another intersection where five trails connect, oddly called Six Points. The immediate right trail takes you down to Hidden Valley and then connects back to Shaver Grade, which you just ran up. (One time, I ran this because it was getting dark and I thought it would be shorter. It might have been, but I was too terrified by the coyotes in the dusk to notice.) Trail to your immediate left goes down to Deer Park. The other two are branches of the Yolanda Trail. My all-time favorite run is to follow Yolanda on the right back down to the lake. But, I didn’t do that yesterday because the bottom of it is super overgrown and running through tall grasses freaks me out.

Follow Yolanda. And, no, I don't know what Yolanda means.

Follow Yolanda. And, no, I don’t know what Yolanda means.

Take the left-hand Yolanda Trail, with the arrow saying To Worn Springs Road. (You’ll know it’s the correct trail on your left because it’s the one going up and Mt. Baldy is up.)

This trail is also super nice single-track, weaving up and down, though gradually up, and along the back side of the hill. It’s also relatively un-trafficked, by which I mean I didn’t see anyone from when I left Phoenix Lake to when I was close to back to it. The single-track dead-ends into a fire road that is Worn Springs Road. At this point, it gets nasty and steep. When it drops you out on Worn Springs Road, there’s a gate in front of you that would lead you down to fancy houses in Ross, where Sean Penn lives, but you turn right onto the fire road and start the climb up to Baldy.

The climb goes up in spurts, steep and then gradual and then steep. I walked twice for 45″ or so, just because it was so steep my shuffle wasn’t moving me very quickly. You’re going around the back side of Baldy and eventually (after 10′ or so), you’ll crest the trail and it’ll start to head back down on the other side, with Mt. Tam in front of you. Before going down, though, there’s a short (50m) detour to your left that takes you right out onto the top of Mt. Baldy.

At the top, this is what it looks like:

The fact that the hill is bald means you can see all around.

The fact that the hill is bald means there aren’t any trees blocking your views. From Pelican Studios.

The top is actually really cool — in an area inundated with cool views. Because there’s nothing around it, you get a 360 degree look at everything, and the wind is usually blowing (sometimes hard), which makes it almost impossible not to throw your arms out and yell at the tiny people below.

When you’re done with that, head back down the detour to the Worn Springs Road trail and continue on it, down the other side of the hill now. That trail is very steep, so unless I’m training for some downhill race I take it easy. It’s not technical, though, and is wide and sweeping (often filled with eagles floating on the wind currents). If you wanted to bomb the descent, you could. Worn Springs Road eventually drops back down to Phoenix Lake, turn left at the lake trail (shake your legs out from the trashing they just took), and head back to the trailhead and back to your car.

Wide open spaces.

Wide open spaces. The Worn Springs Trail from Mt. Baldy.

Most people actually go up this trail (Worn Springs Road), because it’s the most direct route from Phoenix, and then they come back down it the same way. I like the loop because it makes it an actual run, about 8 miles, around 1700′ of elevation or so, and about 1:15 run time. Steve says I should do the loop the opposite direction, because going up the steep part and down the gentler side would be better for my legs and a better workout. But, that sounds shittier.

Steve also swears that when he used to do running time trials up Worn Springs to Mt. Baldy in high school, he could do it in 14′.  It took me 14′ to go down it, but I kind of want to run up it at full speed now to see what I could do.

Whenever I do trail runs I don’t know (which wasn’t this, but other times) I use detailed Marin County Trail Maps (PDF at that link), but trail maps never quite seem to show how things actually look once you’re out there, so I tend to combine it with directions like these from someone who’s done it before.

Have you run Mt. Baldy? What’s the best trail run?

This weekend, I did a lot of race watching and a little bit of race doing, but not really because I keep swearing I’ll start training again…tomorrow!

Saturday, I ran the 5K, then went to the high school county track finals, where I worked registration, checking kids in and giving them numbers and (for free) a hard time. The high school kids here are stupid fast, because it’s Marin. In the boys mile, the three guys in front decided they were ready to just be done dicking around and ran a 2:01 last 800m and a :59 last lap to finish in 4:16. That’s some crazy shit.

Sunday, I got up at 5:20 a.m. and went to Steve’s bike race over in Berkeley, where I sat in the feed zone, handing out water bottles and chasing off aggressive ants. I was the only person in the feed zone who brought a computer to do work while I waited, because I know how long these things go and what would I have done instead? Talk to people? No. I did also sit and silently judge the people who were doing a bad job handing out water bottles. That took up some time too.

I find watching races at least as exhausting as doing them. By the time we got home Sunday afternoon, I could barely keep my eyes open. But, watching races is more fun than doing them sometimes. You can yell things like “Come on, you can do this” – without having to actually do it yourself. And, whenever I watch races where I know people (as opposed to like the Olympics or something on TV) I can practically picture myself winning. I become positive I would do amazing. Obviously.

It’s all the secondhand thrill of being good at a sport, without actually having to be good at a sport.