Dianasauries: The Running Misadventures of a Dianasaur: Saddleback Mountain Goat Marathon

Old Goat Trail Races are my favorite, and Steve and Annie Harvey are just the best you can get for race directors. Okay, there are some other amazing RD's too, but to start with the end, when I crossed the finish line of this race I ran into Steve's arms and gave him a big hug and thanked him and Annie for such a beautiful run and fantastic (but brutal) race.

Thank you Tina for the picture of me right after finishing.

The Saddleback Mountain Goat Marathon was bought by the Old Goats last year, and I volunteered to help at an aid station. I remember Steve coming up to me saying "you know how to drive." and handing me the keys to the Goatmobile. I got to drive up and down the Main Divide in style that day. I'll never forget driving up during the race briefing and Steve heckling me in his megaphone while I tried to drive through the start/finish line, tucking in mirrors. Who knew, a year later I'd be both wishing to be driving up Main Divide and thankful I was running at the same time.

Last year I manned an aid station, but this year I ran. Both very hard things. Great thanks to all the amazing volunteers who make Old Goat races so fantastic! My husband, Omar, Volunteered at the first and last aid station. Whitney Shepard had pickle juice for me around mile 5. Tina Wallin did everything. All the volunteers are the best!

I'm currently training with Keira Henninger and her Ultra Ladies for the Whoo's in El Moro 50k. She wanted us to do this as a training run, and four of us from the group signed up. With some advice from Keira I anxiously signed up. My friend Freddy stayed at my house the night before and we did some good carbo-loading and had a nice vegan dinner. His hummus is delicious. Morning came too soon, and Omar, Freddy, and I climbed into my car and made the long drive out to Lake Elsinore to the Blue Jay Campground where race HQ was.

I found my other Dirt Diva Ultra Ladies, Vivienne, Kristy, and Meg. We huddled for good luck and at 7:45 there was a race briefing from the RD. This year was a reverse course from last year, and he gave us turn by turn directions and words of wisdom, then sent us on our way.

Keira's dirt divas. Not pictured is Tina Wallin, who volunteered and took this picture!

My trail ninja friend.

I was so very nervous. This race was touted as being the hardest marathon in California, with treacherous climbs and over 5,100 feet of elevation gain. There was an 8.5 hour cutoff, and not knowing my abilities I was worried. Keira had insisted after all our summer training we'd be okay though, so I had to trust her.

The first mile is on asphalt out of the campground to the Main Divide truck road where you turn up to the first climb. Main divide is wide and rutted. I ran the flats and small climbs, but powerhiked when it got steep because I don't normally warm up for a few miles.

At the top of Main Divide at mile 4ish was the first aid station, and my sweet husband was there. I didn't need anything so I kept going. I wasn't awake still so I vaguely remember reaching a swooping downhill and taking off, but trying to save myself, not knowing where the big climbs were. The swooping downhill in the woods was very rocky, with dark sharp rocks all over and very loose footing. I wanted to run faster, and heard my foot slip under me so I caught myself and slowed down just a little. I've taken 2 hard falls on the trails, and have been lucky not to hit any rocks - this was not the trail to fall on - you'd break something. Swooping downhill became swooping uphill, and I power hiked up quickly to the next aid station.

Whitney Shepard was at mile 5ish, with pickle juice! One of the gals here took my handheld and topped it off with water for me. I gave whitney a big hug and, feeling charged up, continued on my way. There were beautiful rollercoaster trails the next 5 miles, which offered amazing views of Lake Elsinore, the forest canopy, exposed trails to be traversed, and the clouds. We were running in the clouds. It was a great experience, and a beautiful day.

Photo taken by my buddy Freddy aka Cliff aka Bronco

I hit another aid station, and was told to take an orange, so I did. It was delicious. I realized because of how cool it was I felt really good and wasn't fueling enough, so I ripped open my honey stinger chews on an uphill.

Photo compliments of Cherry Cheng who's a badass.

At mile 10 There was a man standing on the side of the trail cheering, then telling us "up this way." I looked, and the trail veered off straight up the side of a hill. "you're joking, right?" He laughed and shook his head no. "Oh my God." The sweet woman behind me, who I later learned her name is Kit, lamented behind me. Up we went. It was steep single track.

photo compliments of Cherry Cheng

There was a groove the first litte stretch, so we put one foot on the side of the bank, and the other foot almost off the edge of the path, for a while. It really worked our hips, but as we groaned we talked about how pretty our secret path was. I don't know what this trail was called, maybe upper holy jim? It was so pretty. I can't stop saying that. There was hardpack dirt and a narrow trail under foot, and the shrubs only gave us elbow width room. It felt like a rabbit trail to wonderland.

Photo compliments of Cherry Cheng

In some spots at the switchback turns you could see over the bushes out across the mountain tops, and it would take your breath away (even more than it was). We commented that someone had made steps on the path, and how it was almost easier to go up the steps than the steep path. I did catch my breath a few times at the switchbacks. I needed salt, so I let Kit pass me. I took it all in. I drank some water, breathed deep, and started hiking up that steep hill with purpose.

Photo by Cherry Cheng, aka Turbo Cherry

Kit and I got to the top all of a sudden. Our sweet single track trail ended and hit truck trail again, and ribbons summoned us downward. We high-fived. I told her it was fun, but that I was running down the hill. I had no idea that hill was was 7 miles long. I turned a corner and the view was amazing. I said out loud "holy mackerel!" while I ran. I am not sure why that came out of my mouth. It's what my grandfather who we recently lost used to say. I started thinking of him and caught myself sobbing as I was bombing down this trail. I still miss him so very much, and every day still I think of him, but for some reason at mile 12 of my marathon I missed him so much I lost my shit. I told myself "pull it together, Diana, or you're going to eat shit and die. You can't run a marathon crying. Suck this shit up and be careful." So I sniffled my last sniffle, told my Grampa that I love him, and ran as hard as I could down the hill.

okay this was last year, so ignore the dude running uphill, but this was the hill i bombed down!

The truck trail here was nice, and not too rutted, so I was able to go full speed ahead. I dipped down into the trees, and found myself at Bear Springs aid station. The volunteers here were so nice. They gave me jelly beans. I actually stood there for a minute picking around the green and yellow ones. I joked about taking the time to pick out jelly beans in the middle of a marathon. It was silly, but oh well. They let me know I had over 5 more miles of downhill, and the next aid was at the bottom of the canyon at mile 18, and that the next couple hundred yards were loose.

I went down a little path and quickly discovered what they meant by loose. They ground was slipping out from under my feet, and I caught myself a few times, almost landing on my ass, raising up dark brown dust. This was deep in the woods and pretty dark, too. I was wearing my prescription sunglasses though, so I had to just be careful. After a little jaunt in the forest, the trail opened up to really rocky single track. It was steep, and I wanted to run fast. I felt like I was playing tetris with my feet: looking ahead for foot placement so I wouldn't trip. I was reaching level 50, 60, 70, 80... I caught a rock. I lept so far and took four giant steps to keep from crashing, and slowed down. Crisis averted. I found a safe pace that was pushing it, but was still like playing tetris at an early stage where you know you'll make it to the next. I'd look between rocks and stomp. Branches from the trees smacked my face a few times. I swallowed a gnat. I dropped further and further into the bottom of a canyon. The trail got rockier and rockier. At one point I found myself climbing over boulders through a wash, and then moments later crossing a rock bridge in an empty creekbed, and I had to grab some stones after a few feet to pull myself over a large rock. That really slowed down my pace, and I cursed my short legs.

Just before mile 18 at the bottom of the canyon the trail opens up to a little village of cabins. I thought I might be lost, but I pulled out the directions Steve and Annie had printed out for us, and kept going straight. I reached the mile 18 aid station. I opened up my hydration pack and refilled it myself, then I put my pack back on and refilled my handheld and left.

Then the climb out of the canyon began.

I caught up to a woman keeping a good pace, so I stayed behind her. We passed a few people in the bottom of the canyon. I saw a man, who I hear is called LSD (Long Slow Distance), sitting on a rock. I asked if he was okay. He looked at me and smiled like the Chesire cat. "I'm just enjoying the view, and taking a break before I make the climb." I asked if he needed anything. He smiled no, so I patted his shoulder and moseyed on.

Freddy felt like a champ at mile 20.

This is where the real challenge began. This, mile 20, is where I have to say thank you to my coach, Keira Henninger (one of the other bestest race directors ever!) for training me this summer and guiding me through this race in spirit. Keira, you were there with me. I was delirious and was imagining you as a mountain fairy with fluttery wings carrying you across the trail in front of me, guiding me and telling me the things you tell me when we're on tough trails. I pumped my arms, I kept my head up, and I masochistically enjoyed it. Yes, I enjoyed climbing out of the canyon. Keira, what have you done to me? Whatever it is, you have my eternal gratitude. I felt so much love for my coach going up this neverending damn hill. I picked a few targets and slowly moved in to pass a few people, trying to keep my pace faster and faster. I chanted in my head her words of wisdom and hauled it as best as I could. Can't let my coach down! Keria, thank you.

I asked each fellow runner I passed how they were. We were all in it together. Everyone out there did fantastic, and I told them as much. I still pushed though to move it past a few strong folks. I even ran uphill a bit when I had the momentum.

Freddy's pic!

Eventually I hit the top of the Trabuco Trail, and saw my loving husband. He was surprised to see me "Dude, you're here already?" he said. I didn't understand why he was surprised. "Freddy was only here a half an hour ago!" he told me. I didn't believe him and thought he was messing with me. My husband gave me some coke. I drank it and told him "You don't know how good this tastes. You must run 22 miles and then drink coke to understand." I was tired. Sorry for the crazy, O. I said thank you and went on my merry little way. I couldn't believe that this little uphill and I was still running. After all that! I was like "hey my legs still work! COOL!" So I pushed. I saw the runner who's heels I'd been on up Trabuco, and I ran up to her with some ease, and chatted with her for a minute, but then I felt like I could really cut loose. I was so afraid to push all the race because of the big climb... but it was over, and this was the time to expend my final energy. I had 4 miles to the finish, and I pushed. I ran all out down the hill, only slowing down for ruts and rocks. The last mile was that gross asphalt road through the Blue Jay campground. I took a 10 second walk break up a little hill. I saw the cars and knew I was coming into the finish. People started cheering for me! There is a tiny little hill at the finish line that felt like hell, but I ran in.

Steve was there holding out my medal. I ran into him and grabbed him, and gave him a big hug, hanging onto him for a second. I think I said "omg so tired!" and he laughed I think. I told him and Annie, thank you for a brutal as hell and the equally beautiful course. It really was a beautiful run. Freddy came up to me and was like "what the hell you're already done sub 7!" and I looked at my garmin, not knowing if that was good or bad. I guess that was pretty good. I later found out I was 5th in my age group, 60th out of 81 finishers, and 18th female. Not too shabby for 6,032 feet of gain!

Thanks for my finisher pic Tina Wallin!

Me and the infamous Freddy. Thanks Tina W. for the pic!

I went and got my beer and recoverite, and hung out waiting for my friends to finish. Emil came in, and Jean Ho did fantastic! Vivienne powered through too and then Omar came down the mountain. We had burgers and I visited with my friends. Annie Harvey was adorable and told me I'd lost weight and got really strong since Nanny Goat. It made me laugh, she said "this morning I just thought you were dehydrated, but you've really lost weight!" I love it.

After some beer and food and relaxing, and waiting for the last runners to come through, we climbed in the car and headed for home.

I have to say a huge thank you to Steve and Annie! I just adore you guys so much, and you put on the best races (and hardest). This was by far the hardest marathon I've ever ran.

A huge thank you to Tina Wallin for taking some really amazing photos at the finish line! Beautiful photos.

I also have to thank Keira Henninger, my coach, for motivating me to sign up and assuring me I could do it, and being there with me in spirit while I ran. Keira, thank you for showing me what I'm capable of. You've made me a stronger, more confident, runner and woman.

I'm over the moon I did this. A few days later and I'm still sore, but it was worth it. I would recommend this marathon to anyone... Who can climb. It's beautiful and hard and not for the faint of heart or weak willed runner, you have to enjoy some pain to enjoy this, but if you're a masochist like me this is the race for you! Black IPA has never tasted as good as it does after this marathon.