Public interest in long distance running has certainly come a long way in recent years. Nowadays, there seems to be more mainstream interest in the sport than ever before. Even if long distance running has become somewhat trendy, running solo through the night and into the morning still remains an underground activity within the long distance running universe. I enjoy running through the night by myself because of the solitude and peace and quiet that it brings. It's probably a good thing that I enjoy it because I can't name a single one of my friends or anyone I know within the running community who would be willing to run with me through the night for enjoyment. Night running requires more gear than running in daylight, with the main essential item being either a headlamp or a flashlight, or both. Before I left my home in Laguna Niguel on Friday night, April 25th, I made sure that I had both, along with a reflective vest and reflective ankle bracelets. This additional gear was required because where I was going to be running later that night wasn't just going to constitute normal darkness. It was going to be in the wilderness, up in the mountains, miles away from anything darkness, at least in some areas.
Over the last several years while living in Silicon Valley, I've prepared for my upcoming ultramarathons each spring by doing an all-night run on highway 89 along the shore of Lake Tahoe. This year I would be changing things up a bit and doing a twenty-mile through-the-night run along highway 18 and highway 38 around the circumference of Big Bear Lake. It was a new adventure and I was looking forward to it, but like any running adventure, I was trying to approach it with caution. I mapped out the route in advance, identified the more risky areas where I would need to be careful, and made sure I knew which direction to go and at which junction. I left my home around midnight and arrived in the town of Big Bear Lake around 2:30 AM. I parked my car in an empty space behind the darkened Grizzly Manor breakfast restaurant. After I made my preparations, I stepped out of my car to get adjusted to the cold. The temperature was right around thirty degrees Fahrenheit, and the cold mountain air was crisp and refreshing. I stood next to my car examining my surroundings. Except for the occasional car that passed by on Big Bear Boulevard, the town had long since shut down for the night. I took off running down the main road through the heart of the town. Even though every establishment I passed was closed, the setting was well lit. I used only my headlamp during this section and saved my flashlight for the darker and more remote sections that I would be running through later on in the night.
As I continued into the outskirts of town, the only signs I saw of human or animal life were the occasional passing car and a coyote. I was pretty lit up, so it would be impossible for cars to not notice me as they drove by, so I wasn't too concerned about them. When the coyote saw me approaching from a hundred feet away, he quickly ran away and his glowing eyes disappeared into the roadside wilderness. I was glad to see that he retreated when he saw me, but I remained wary of my surroundings. I eventually passed by the Big Bear Lake welcome sign off the side of highway 18 near the Castle Rock Trailhead. When I stopped to take a selfie near the sign, I shut off all my lights so the flash would work correctly. Once I took the picture and my phone went dark, I noticed my surroundings. It was completely pitch black all around me with not a single sound to be heard. Just sheer darkness, pure silence, and the cold mountain air. I stood there taking it in for about ten seconds before I realized how scary it was. "Oh, shit" I exclaimed as I fumbled to turn my headlamp and flashlight back on. With my devices lighting the night back up, all was suddenly good again. Our parents always told us when we were kids that the dark was nothing to be scared of, but damn.
I soon made a right at the lake onto highway 38 and headed for the town of Fawnskin. The route I was running was at an elevation of about 6,700 feet, but I was handling the altitude pretty well. I was enjoying myself, but at this point, things were starting to feel a little unsettling. My whole world was confined to the beam of my headlamp and flashlight. Beyond that was pure darkness. I was now far away from the the town center of Big Bear Lake and miles away from my car and everything else. Seeing a roadside sign warning motorists of potential bear crossings didn't help the situation either. Let's face it, I'm probably a little nuts for putting myself in this situation. This isn't something a normal runner would do, let alone a normal person. It was approaching 4:00 AM, and everyone I knew was probably at home in bed sound asleep. But here I was halfway through a twenty-mile through-the-night training run around Big Bear Lake. Go figure. I tried to not let the thoughts of fear take over my mind. Yes, I was in a vulnerable situation and something could have happened, but I chose to focus on what I could control, and that was being aware of my surroundings. It was a cloudless night in the mountains. When I looked up, the sky was filled with shining stars and the tops of tall pine trees dominated the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. I thought about Samantha and Aidan, who, like everyone else, were sound asleep at home in bed. I knew I belonged out here doing this. It just felt right.
I passed through Fawnskin and continued to enjoy the nighttime mountain setting. Time passed, miles were covered, and at about mile fourteen I made a right turn off highway 38 onto Greenway Drive and headed towards Big Bear Boulevard. At this point the crack of dawn was upon me. The sun was starting to light up the eastern skyline and hit the tops of the pine trees on the horizon. Watching a sunrise after running through the night never gets old. A new day after rallying through the night brings a great sense of optimism and energy. I reeled in the final miles in the chilly morning air and eventually arrived back at my car, completing the twenty miles. It was a great adventure and I loved every minute of it. Adventure is what I crave and these all-night training runs never fail to satisfy that craving. After I took a few minutes to regroup, I headed into Grizzly Manor for some breakfast. Even after twenty miles of running, the giant chocolate chip pancake I ordered still kicked my butt, and I needed a takeout box. I felt hungry again when I was midway through the drive back home, so I rolled the leftover pancake up like a burrito while I was driving and chowed the rest of it down. I left town just in time. The clouds had rolled in during the morning and it began snowing pretty heavily about twenty minutes into my trip home. It rained the rest of the way once I arrived back at sea level. Thankfully the weather had somewhat cleared up by the time I arrived home, and I was able to spend some time with Aidan and Samantha at the park. Needless to say when Aidan went down for a nap later on that day, I did too.
