Evening Walk

After my last crazy long, full post, I thought I'd share a lovely outdoor experience I had tonight. Granted, it's nothing compared to my old outdoor adventures. But, I've decided it's actually pretty perfect for someone like myself who can't seem to go two steps in Arizona wilderness without a bit of a panic attack.

Enter, the riparian preserve. Right next to our library, this lovely area is surrounded on all sides by very well developed Gilbert cityscape. But, when you are out on the very wonderfully groomed trails, it does really feel like you're in the middle of nature.

The huge plus side for me is that the likelihood of encountering a big predator (i.e. mountain lion) is about the same as encountering one at our house. Pretty darn small. 

This means that I can explore the trails solo without deciding that every little sound is a lion out to eat me (this doesn't mean that every little sound doesn't make my heart race a little, but I'm at least can overcome it). 

Saturday afternoon, since I had to take a trip to return some library materials, I decided that it would be silly to skip the opportunity to wander the preserve, so off I went on the trails. It was definitely bustling with others enjoying the beautiful, if brisk, afternoon.

The entire preserve is made up of different ponds that hold much of Gilbert's water as it seeps down into the aquifer. Different ponds are periodically drained, so that they can be kept as effective as possible. The pond above was being kept with less water, which made the local birds quite happy. 

I probably was only walking for about 30 minutes, but walking 30 minutes in nature was a luxury I never would have enjoyed in California (or even in the "real" Arizona wilderness). As I said, perfect training wheels for a scary-cat like me. 

At least until the weather gets unbearable again, I'd like to come here at least once a week, maybe even with running shoes, instead of walking ones. It may not be a huge expanse of nature, but it's a comfortable, beautiful one, and one I'm so glad is just a few miles from home. 

Trail Running?

So, for the one person who checks in here every once in a while, you've probably noticed a huge lack of posts. This blog in particular (versus my regular life blog) definitely goes in ebbs and flows and, since moving to Arizona, I haven't really felt inspired to post here. Why? For lack of a more eloquent explanation, it just isn't California, and nature-wise, that's been hard for me.  I also am still struggling with not only the nerve pain in my leg (going strong for 5+ years) but the nerve pain in both feet that I've had for almost a year now. I'm working on finding a new neurologist, but it's been hard. 

But we have done some trails in the last 7 months, so I've decided to just use this as a cathartic opportunity and share all the trails we've done since we've moved - the good, bad, and ugly (experiences).

Gilbert Riparian Preserve:

At first, it was the weather. When you wake up and you're already in the 90s, and it's still over 100 when you go to bed, it's hard to be inspired to be active outside. Plus, I was beyond scared of the crazy number of active rattlesnakes that were "out there." In my defense, they were even on the news, as the anchors warned the public of how active they were. 

The only real "hike" we did while it was still definitely summer was at the riparian preserve, which was actually really nice, but not really what one would consider real trails. It's just an isolated set of manmade (I'm pretty positive) ponds that provide water and habitat to lots of desert animal. 

Don't let the clouds fool you - it was "cool" in the 90s here. 

It is a very pretty park, with lots of nice landscaping, and we just took our time walking around and getting the lay of the land on the very nice pavement and crushed gravel pathways. 

We even got to see our first Arizona snake - which just reminded me that we had to be careful. 

This is our version of the Los Gatos trail, the trail from back in California that we were on all the time. The stretch right by us is exactly like this, except no water, no trees, and a bad smell. So, yeah, not so fun to run there. 

Back in the reserve, though, it really does have pretty, green stretches that make you appreciate being out in nature. 

And, of course, being in the desert, huge amounts of water are always nice. 

McDowell Preserve:

Ed was much better at being adventurous than me, and got himself out exploring. Finally, in August, I decided to try my first real trail. From the beginning, it was a bit of a disaster. We'd started going to Squaw Peak, but about 20 minutes out, what Ed had told me about the trail (he didn't even run the whole way, super rocky, etc) finally sunk in and I told him I wouldn't be able to handle it. So, we turned around and headed here instead - what he promised was a much more gradual, easy to handle trail. 

And? I basically started crying as we were hiking because it was hot, I was tired, and it was all just so...foreign. I think part of it is I just don't handle change well. California trails are all I know, where I learned to trail run, and you really can't get more different than this. Sections not full of ankle twisting rocks are few and far between, and falling here is a much more painful proposition. I've taking my fair share of tumbles on bay area trails, but falling on a cushy redwood path is really not too bad. I remember falling the day after our wedding, on our first married run, and I was so tired that I tripped over a root and just lay sprawled on the path. I remember thinking that I was so tired, maybe I'd just stay there and rest for a little bit - it was that comfy. 

Here? you fall either onto sharp rocks or spiny plants. Both pretty bad options. 

So, (and I know I shared this "run" before) we only made it about 2 miles total, and I finished feeling totally deflated, frustrated, and let down. 

South Mountain Preserve:

So far, this has been the only real desert trails I've attempted that I haven't felt like crying over.  It isn't that technical, and starts with a mild firetrail. Ed feels like it's also the least pretty of all the trails, but honestly, the all sort of seem the same to me. This one at least has a view at the end of Phoenix, which is pretty. 

We even actually took my parents to this trail when they were visiting, but I can't say that I'm super inspired to go back, pretty sunrises notwithstanding.

Flagstaff:

This was our first experience of trails in Arizona that felt a little more familiar. Being in the snowy mountains was great. It was odd that everything was so flat, as we're used to the Sierras, not being on a plateau. 

We broke in our trail legs by hiking along a pathway that took us to a museum (from the Bed and Breakfast we were staying at). It was spectacularly beautiful and made us much more excited about living in this state. 

It was at this point that, in my view, we had a lapse in judgement and decided to visit this exhibit:

Yes, that would be an exhibit about mountain lions. Now, we all know that I am pretty severely petrified of them (more specifically being attacked by them). So, going to an exhibit with life-sized murals showing their jumping prowness, buttons that made the varying sounds of a mountain lion in various states of threat, pictures of a mountain lion in different postures, from relaxed to about to attack, and stuffed mountain lions around the room, just for good measure. This was not what I needed to remind me of something else to fear out there, even on the pretty trails. 

Let's just say that our hike back was somewhat less peaceful for me. No mountain lions to be seen though. 

Later, we decided to actually run some trails. I was still a bit freaked out, and almost bailed, but Ed promised an easy run, so I decided to give it a try. He really picked the perfect "training wheels" run for me. Flat, easy, open. 

And the scenery? Not to be beat. It was spectacular, and it reminded me that I do love trails and being in nature. 

It was exactly what we needed - a cool (okay, freezing!), run in the mountains, with nary a cactus in sight. 

Sedona:
After our trail success in Flagstaff, we decided to try to go 2 for 2 and hit up the Sedona trails on our way home. While definitively more of a desert than Flagstaff, it was in the cool 60s and has some of the most spectacular scenery imaginable.

We decided to run/hike around Bell Rock and Courthouse rock, a 4ish mile route that promised to be not too tricky and very pretty. The first half was amazing. We were running on a beautiful singletrack through a meadowy area, in the shadow of these red rock giants, and loving life. 

About halfway through, though, the trail got a bit more technical, with more rocks and bushes, and I started working that there was a mountain lion around every turn (because I'm awesome like that). I did pretty well hiding it from Ed though, and we still enjoyed the amazing vistas. 

I've mentioned this before, but so much of Arizona has this "alien" quality to it - like being on another planet. 

At the same time, though, it's so familiar from stories and shows about the Old West. This is truly that wild west from hundreds of years ago, and it feels pretty special to be there among it all. 

After we finished the loop, Ed wanted to climb up Bell Rock a bit. 

I played along for a while, but soon it went beyond my comfort zone, so I gave Ed my blessing and stayed behind. Now, seeing him ascend this rock definitely scared me a bit, especially once I couldn't see him any more, but I trusted him, and my trust was (pretty) well founded. And, he got to enjoy views like these:

 

While I'd enjoyed my little perch, I'd eventually headed down a little ways to an area with a few more people, and just sat and reflected on the perfection of this weekend, and of this day. This spot on Bell Rock was definitely one that I could see myself returning to often, just to soak up this view. 

Ed eventually returned and, together, we sat for just a bit longer. Feeling thankful for a weekend that was just a little like the ones we used to have. Full of dirt and sweat and good conversations. 

Of all the trail experiences since we've moved. This one has been the best. 

Piestewa Peak:

And, after I high like that, it surely follows that there will be a low. A soul crushing, demoralizing low. This hike was that for me. This was the one I wisely turned down in August, but after such a good last trail experience, and with the weather now on our side, I decided I could handle it. 

Ends up? I was completely wrong. The truth of the matter is, I suck on technical trails. So when an entire trail is entirely technical, I spend the whole thing in a state of stress and frustration. Going up wasn't so bad, but coming down was a nightmare. It didn't help that the trail was very, very full of people who we passed going up, but who now were flying by me as we headed back down. 

I think what was really the sticking point was that, after all the work and struggle getting up there, the view was, well brown desert. Not a surprise, really, but it so didn't feel worth it, especially knowing what was coming on our descent. 

So, this was another hike where our conversation dwindled to nothing, as I spent all of my mental energy carefully trying not to slip on the rocks and feeling totally incompetent. What Ed and I love about trails together, is it usually seems to spark these conversations that we never have otherwise, like it taps into some level of our consciousness that we normally keep quiet. It is one of our favorite things. But with a trail like this, it seems to go the other way. Where we can't talk about anything. It was another run where things ended in tears (me) and frustration (him). 

Sedona in Winter:

To end on a positive, our last real trail experience was pretty wonderful. Our friend Bill and Jenny came to visit, and we took them up to Sedona, which was having it's first snow. 

While cold, it was pretty magical. 

We did the Bell Rock hike again, but this time up and around it, instead of during the full loop. 

While it was cold, it was just beautiful, and a wonderful, wonderful experience. 

So, in a nutshell, that is what has been going on with me in the trail running world. I'm trying to work past my fear for this big unknown, these desert trails, and not let myself get too scared by the many creatures and tricky terrain that has been blocking my efforts. But, I'm also trying not to be too hard on myself, either. I know I still love trails. It will just be hard to ever forget the trails of California and not compare Arizona to what I used to know. 

Have you ever had to move someplace or visited somewhere outside of your trail comfort zone? Did you love it or hate it?

Skyline to the Sea: Day 1

So, travel back with me to mid June. Ed had just finished the famous Double Dipsea race that morning. We had enough time to get home, shower, and get all packed up, and we were off to the trail head for my first backpacking trip ever!

With all the stress of our impending move, the school year ending, Ed graduating, etc., it was such a breath of fresh air to, well, go out into the fresh air. 

Our first day (afternoon really) was an easy 6ish miles to Waterman Gap. I was a bit nervous about impending darkness, even though Ed promised we'd get there in time. But, as we traveled down the trail, with our packs, and took in possibly one of our last forays through these California forests for a while, we couldn't help but be so happy. Even now, recalling the whole trip, but especially that afternoon, I can't help but feel more relaxed. 

When we reached our first viewpoint, looking out over the 25ish miles we still had until we reached the ocean, it was exciting and exhilarating. 

We knew we couldn't spend too long admiring the view, so we one last look, 

we headed back into the forest. 

Singletrack redwood trails are some of my favorites (as I've mentioned more than once), especially since they were leading us quickly to our resting spot. 

Before we knew it, we're arrived!

We set up our tent. Well, Ed's tent really. The one he's had since he was a kid. The one we shared 3 weeks into dating on our first camping trip ever. I have to say, it was a lot smaller than I remembered. Also, sleeping on the ground? A lot harder than I remembered. But, we still had a few hours before we went to bed, so it was time to dig into our dinner. 

On the menu? We'd made two not necessarily backpacking friendly meals (in terms of weight), but very yummy. Walnut pesto kale and quinoa salad. We decided to have a little of both. 

I've got to say, I did miss the hot food, especially as the temperature dropped. But, it was yummy and very filling.

We were very happy with our little log bench, sitting on our pillows to make it extra comfy (we'll more comfy at least). 

We brought a few books, though I can't say I had any interest in Ed's "light reading." I spent time planning our Hawaii trip :)

As soon as it got dark, we headed to bed, mostly because we were so amazingly cold. Especially on that cold, hard ground. But, sleep came pretty quickly. We were excited to start our first full day on the trail!

Four and Seven Tenths

Yesterday morning, Ed left at about 5:20 to go run in a race. I slept until 7, and then I got up, wishing just a little bit that I was also out there running with him. I'd decided not to sign up since trails and I haven't really gotten along here in Arizona, and especially since I gone on all of 3 or so runs here, it seemed like a good decision.

But, running itself sounded good, and I started wondering. Wondering if it would be cool enough, if my body would be fit enough, if I would be motivated to get out there. So, I decided to check out the weather first, and saw temperatures below 70. This is such a crazy difference from a few months ago, when the lowest low was in the 80s.

I realized to answer the other two questions, I couldn't do much else but head out the door, so that's what I did. Lacing up my running shoes, I felt excited, but a little nervous, too. Because I like a challenge, I envisioned a potentially challenging loop that I had been thinking about for a while. It basically just used the major streets near us, making a big square around where we live and not crossing any major streets (so no lights to navigate). Now, it would not challenging for a regular runner, but it was much longer than anything I had attempted since our more. I honestly didn't check to see how far the loop was, because I was worried numbers might scare me off. I just hooked up my iPod, grabbed a bottle of cold water and a visor, and headed out that door.

A blast of cold air (okay, not warm air) hit me as I headed outside, reminding me that it may still be hot by the rest of the world's standards, but we have definitely hit Phoenix's fall.

The loop itself was pretty uneventful, punctuated by waves of pride as I realized how great the run was going, and waves of reflection. I think I'd almost forgotten how lovely it is to be alone with my thoughts. That lovely feeling where thoughts enter and then leave your mind with each falling footstep, letting you process your life without the usual stress that accompanies that kind of processing.

About halfway through, a woman ran by in the other direction, sporting an Arizona Marathon shirt, and before I knew what I was doing, I started speeding up as my mind starting throwing thoughts at me: "What Bout signing up for the half marathon in January? I could do that! Running is amazing! I feel awesome! I can do-"

In the middle of this stream of consciousness, I realized that my breathing was getting heavy and my legs were starting to burn a little.

Oops. Guess I got a little too enthusiastic. I slowed down my thoughts and my body and felt much better. I think I'll keep those ambitious thoughts on hold for a little bit, at least until I start being able to run more regularly.

As I rounded the corner onto the 3rd street (and the 3rdish mile), I could tell my body was starting to get tired. I started thinking about  that feeling you get around mile 20 of a marathon, when you're just feeling tired and sort of done and all you can think about is getting to your destination. The only plus side about being sort of out of shape, is you get to experience that marathon feeling in a much shorter run :).

Heading back onto our main street, I knew I was getting close, and finally, I was back on our block and in front of our house. I felt tired, but pretty darn great, and not even close to as overheated as I'd been on every other run so far here. When I got on the computer, and discovered my run was actually 4.7, I was so thrilled. That's the furthest I've run in such a huge amount of time, and I ran it all!

As I seem to say after every run, I'm going to have to see how things go in terms of regularly running. Nerve pain is still very much aggravated by the running, as my hurting feet will attest, but I am going to use some of my break time this week to line up a new doctor and hopefully get this taken care of.

Nonetheless, the fact remains that yesterday, I was decidedly a runner.