Hippocrates In San Diego

Tecolote Canyon Trail Run

July 31, 2007 at 8:51 pm | In Reports, Running, Sports

N. and I ran on a trail through Tecolote Canyon. It was the first time for either of us on this trail; I don’t think we had any idea what we were in for. I initially came across the trail while surfing around on a computer during one of my moonlighting jobs, where I supervise residents who are seeing their patients in a clinic setting. The trail had multiple advantages, as I could see them at the time: the trailheads were close to home; they seemed to remain near well-populated areas but were down in a canyon, and were probably likely to have stretches of quiet without total isolation; and the length looked to be about 4 to 6 miles one way, which meant I could do anything from a short and quick run to more intense longer runs. After getting home from work, I changed into my gear and convinced Nicole to join me (it didn’t take much effort to convince her to go for a run).

The “Run Up” To The Run

We arrived at the Tecolote Canyon Nature Center, parked at the trailhead, and prepared for what looked to be a nice run. The trail started out well enough, rolling hills, through the middle of the canyon. Initially the trail was flat, passing small gardens and landscaping areas maintained by the Nature Center. We were guided by eucalyptus trees deeper into the canyon, at a slow, steady pace. Neither of us were up for a fast run. N. had been dealing with a knee issue and I hadn’t been consistently running for quite a while. But it felt great to be out there; the climate was perfect and the air crisp.

The Run

We had been cruising along for about a mile and a half, when the horizon rose and we saw what looked like Kilimanjaro heading upwards into the sky, vertically split in two by our future path. “Hey, look at that –” N. had a small smile on her face. I, on the other hand, probably did not. I immediately cursed the computer that lead me to the trail, and hoped that the path was an illusion and we’d actually be heading around the massive beast of a climb.

Killer Ups and Downs

Of course that was not the case. We headed straight up, taking alternate routes around the climbs when we could, but the trail just kept rising. Initially we were both doing well; N.’s knee wasn’t bothering her too much and I hadn’t yet passed out. Our pace slowed considerably as we climbed; each transient descent felt good at first, but later drops would crush my quads nearly as badly as the climbs.

Since the Tour de France had just ended, my mental motivation focused on the grueling climbs of the Pyrénées and Les Alpes. The Col d’Aubisque, the Alp d’Huez, these were my hills, and my legs were wheels. The Tour’s fans lined the trail, waving flags from around the world, screaming Allez! and ¡Vaya! That worked well to keep me going. For a while, anyway.

False Flats Suck

Perhaps the most painful part, mentally, about doing a tough trail run, are the false flats. Approaching the crest of a hill, often you want nothing more than to see the entire horizon before you, as the trail descends back to oxygen-rich altitudes and leaves the sky to the birds, who fare much better up there than you had. But the bastard that designed the trail was clearly mentally ill; or at least was a cruel sadist. You reach what looks to be the top, only to see more hill heading upward in front of you. Your head drops and the fatigue doubles.

Heading up the Col de Tecolote, as I have come to call it (despite daft geographers and cartographers calling it a “canyon”) the false flats were numerous and brutal. With each passing one, my energy was sapped and I could feel each step get shorter. I couldn’t hear the Tour’s fans any more.

I’ve Had Enough

Finally at the 2.5 mile mark (I’m embarrassed about how early this was), I decided the pain wasn’t valuable anymore. There’s a threshold in running beyond which you lose the benefits of running and the likelihood of going for a run in subsequent days becomes very small. The return trip wasn’t particularly fun; all the descents we encountered now became climbs, so the second leg of the run was nearly as painful. But at least I knew what was coming.

Post Run Analysis

I am trying very hard to enjoy trail running. I love natural environments, and scenic runs are great motivation for me. But God, they are barbaric. I have never been a strong hill runner — I started long distance running along the flat shores of the Pacific, in the beach communities of Los Angeles. So my experience is certainly limited, and my current running schedule doesn’t permit much in the way of consistency or intensity. So despite having fancy yellow New Balance trail running shoes, I think the trails, however enticing, will continue to be a harassment.
Harass origin: