Run DMZ

Today is National Hiking Day. It’s also my husband’s (gulp) 60 th  birthday and the final day of #HokieHike2020 . This was a fundraiser for our alma mater that offered some great swag in exchange for going on a long walk in the woods and then making sure the world knew about it.  Last I looked, I was the only one from California to officially post, but there were several alumni from the West Coast on there. Some of the photos made me miss hiking on the East Coast, the Blue Ridge Mountains in particular. I have a history with those hills , one that brings me back now and then .    A lot of runners also hike, more than hikers who run. Some combine the two and run trails rather than walk them. I’ve cracked too many bones tripping on rocks and roots while running on trails so now I watch my step. It may take me longer, but I’m no longer in a hurry. Not most days.   Saturday was an exception. I had a lot on my plate since I had to postpone my original Hokie Hike due ...

Fall typically comes late to San Diego, if it comes at all. The season is too often marred by furnace-like blasts of brutal heat and scorched earth rather than mottled clouds rolling in to christen thirsty landscapes with wave upon wave of downpours.    Fall was my favorite season as a child raised along the Eastern Seaboard. I looked forward to the drop in humidity and crisp air that signaled a fresh slate for the school year, the end of long hours of summer boredom or busyness. The best days were those that fell under Indian summer—cool at night, hot at the peak of day. Fall was my favorite season as a younger adult too, the nippy mornings heralding a change in routine and wardrobes, the sidewalks and roads littered with calico-colored leaves. Running always improved in the fall, with far more official opportunities to test speed and endurance on a USATF-sanctioned course.   We get a milder, delayed dose of that brand of season here, with deciduous trees lining road med...