Happy Trails to Meeeeee - Santiago Oaks Regional Park

Down to just one car last week, I had to drive my boo to work early Saturday morning. Most of the fibers in my body wanted to stumble to the car in my PJs, but I threw some stretchy, ass-jiggle highlighting pants on and toddled to the car with sneakers in hand. I figured I should take this opportunity to hit a trail before it got hot. After dropping off the boo, I coffee'd up and resisted the urge to go home and get some work done on the couch.

I love the couch.

Despite the siren's call of a lazy Saturday, I drove toward the Santiago Oaks Regional Park which was recommended by a friend. I shared the road only with old trucks whose drivers were heading off to manicure the lawns and gardens of the expansive Orange County homes. The farther I drove, the more rural the landscape became. At least, it was reminiscent of a rural area but one that is very expensive. Turns out, this is what is referred to as an equestrian community. This explains the horse trails and stables and McMansions.  

Another oldie but goodie. Somehow, he did not make an appearance in the equestrian community

I followed the helpful signs toward the park and noticed several gated communities and 90s era (once) new developments that almost made me pause. Confident in my friend's suggestion, I continued on. The road narrowed, a horse and its rider were spotted, and suddenly there were trees everywhere. I gasped. I stared. I squealed. The park attendant asked if I might mind paying the parking fee and getting out of the way.

Who doesn't love sun poking through trees? Monsters, that's who!

Historic Orange Grove. Look but don't touch.

a leetle creek!

The OC Parks website will tell you that Santiago Oaks provides a sense of removal from the urbanized environment, and you know what? This is not a lie. Even just sitting in the parking lot, I felt so at peace I almost cried.

surrounded!

historic creek dam. not for swimming, damn.

it's all shady and tree covered and then there's this valley type thing out of nowhere!

for when you get thirsty. intended for horses, but hey.

I have nothing bad to say. No snarky jokes to tell. There was hardly any litter and no graffiti that I saw. Just a beautiful place full of people there for more or less the same reason I was. I give it five Haribo gummy bear bags! (out of 5)

Trying to Get Lost in Fullerton

This Saturday I forcibly removed myself from the couch and went for a walk. Although the trail looked like something one might see on a hike, for some reason I just can't bring myself to call it that. A walk seems more accurate, albeit a hot and dusty walk along a dirt path.

I walked the "Lost Trail," which I came across on the interwebs after some searching for local walking trails. The name implied that the trail was perhaps secluded, but I figured it was a misnomer. I asked google its opinion, and it told me that the trail was an escape from suburbia! The idea of this delighted me.

My quest to lose myself on Lost Trail in an escape from suburbia began at a most suburban setting - the Fullerton Municipal Golf Course. I walked a short distance on a different trail to get to the Lost Trail start and was surrounded by suburbia for much of the trip.

Golf course to my left and condos and a hospital to my above right

Once I reached the tunnel to take me under a boulevard and to Lost Trail, the apartment complexes and condominums faded from view, although I could still hear the roar of traffic down the boulevard I had taken to get there.

This was one creepy ass tunnel

On the other side of the tunnel, the tanned OC Gods gifted me with a little creek. I walked along it for a bit, wondering if I was on the Lost Trail or just getting lost trying to find it.

I quickly found my way and just as quickly realized that while the trail may have been lost at one point,  it was now found and sat squarely in the middle of high-end suburbia.

Does this make you feel lost?

I agree! Though, I think this was built for "adverts"

what is that I see in the distance?!

Pumping for oil, that's what!

Although I had been set on escaping suburbia, I decided not to let the presence of large ranch-style homes, gardeners and landscapers of said homes, and manicured soccer fields and golf courses bum me out. I accepted the surroundings for what they were and had fun trying to think of as many "lost and found" jokes as I could. I wrote this blog entry in my head as I walked, none of which is actually within this post as I promptly forgot it.

You can tell this house has a pool, and I was ready to find myself in it

There was some trash and graffiti, but unlike the taggers of Hermit Falls, these kids encouraged me every step of the way. And are avid readers, apparently.

If you can't tell, it says "you is important" and you IS

You is also smart

The walk wasn't particularly long nor was it very secluded, but I enjoyed myself. I saw dragonflies, birds, lizards, squirrels, and butterflies. I also saw a lot of horse shit but only one horse. There wasn't very much shade though, so it was freaking hot. The city website rated the trail as Easy/Moderate, and although I have no idea what that means, if it was a 90 degree day that shit would be hard as fuck.

I have decided to implement an arbitrary rating system for my outdoor experiences here in Southern California. To the Lost Trail I award 3 bags of Haribo gummy bears (out of 5) because it's really close to my house, tells me I'm smart, and has lots of birds and stuff.

Working on my Fitness: Unpleasant Surprises

I went on a four mile walk today and was all too aware of the revealing tightness of my running pants. As I walked, I felt mostly self-conscious but also slightly excited at the possibility that I might get rapped at again. My stories of being rapped at twice before are getting stale.

One time went something like this - "I got two cups, girl, and a pitcher, girl. And...and...I can't really rap, girl"

You might recall that I started taking short walk/jogs in the mornings after the growing size of my gut caused me to wonder if I might be pregnant. It's going pretty well. I mean, I'm averaging 16 minute miles, which is pretty much swift like a fox.  I'm kinda awesome at walk/jogging.

Look how swift!

You know what is not awesome? Yesterday I looked down and caught a glimpse of my shadow in motion. Holy. Freaking. Shit. Is that MY ass I can see from the front? Is that MY ass that is still bouncing even after my legs have stopped moving? Why yes, yes in fact it is.

There's no way I am literally showing my ass. Let this serve as a visual aid.

Little Korean ladies on their afternoon walks looked away in fear, and Buena Park school children getting off the school bus cried out for their mommies as I walked by. Fashion bloggers appeared to snap my picture and use it as evidence for their campaigns against stretchy pants. I could do nothing but scurry home and get on the scale. Because I must hate myself.

I don't want to have a small butt, but I was just unpleasantly surprised by the jiggle factor. Facebook and Gchat research pointed to compression shorts as a possible solution, but until I get some, I will just have to make peace with my jiggle. And maybe wear sweats.