Run DMZ

I'm always amazed at how many social media influencers warn us to stay off social media most of the time. It's great advice, but I doubt these people follow it. Afterall, this is, like, their job, isn't it? Every once in a while, though, something pops up in the endless feed that does resonate with me. The following hit hard this morning as I complete the final week of backpack training and console myself in the passing of another dear old friend who was once the image of health and verve, until he wasn't.  I'm not sure if this actually comes from the mind of @jadebonacolta or she just didn't bother to use attribution, but here's a gem that reflects what all of us of a certain age know is true.  6 luxuries in life: time health a quiet mind slow mornings ability to travel a house full of love

It is impossible to take in Santa Fe and not witness myriad manifestations of spirituality. It's in the historically significant churches anchoring a public square. The sacred grounds of nearby reservations and pueblos. It's in the art and jewelry showcased in galleries, outposts, and sidewalk sales. The preparation of Christmas enchiladas and heated discussion of what "spiritual but not religious" really means over lunch at the Plaza Cafe .  Rarely has a girls' getaway been so in-your-face about its underlying intention. Less than a week later, I'm still unsure how I feel about everything after experiencing so much mysticism during three days in New Mexico.  Spring awakening Spring arrived just as we did, from bursts of lemongrass-colored tree buds lining walkways to a white and pink blossoms spilling over brown adobe fences meant to contain them. The high desert sun shone intensely except for one brief April shower that bode well for early May blooms waiting...

  "Aloha" might be the most recognizable Hawaiian term, but on Maui, "Mahalo" is a close second. It lacks linguistic flexibility, meaning just one thing: Thank you. However, it is quite pliable in conveying a desired tone.  Come enjoy authentic Hawaiian shave ice. Mahalo.   Yes, our lines are long. Please be patient. Mahalo.  The restaurant kitchen's closing early tonight. Mahalo.  Our $1.50 (each) kiwi fruit are better. Mahalo.  Do not move the mat concealing a heating element inside your unit's oven or you may destroy the appliance. Mahalo! I can think of no better word that reflects the four days recently spent exploring a paradise always on alert for potential disasters.  Which pretty much sums up our trip, too.  Mahalo for those quiet, pre-dawn mornings I spent sipping hot tea on our balcony and watching locals setting up for another busy (hopefully profitable) day while pale-skinned tourists ran, walked, and cycled along S. Kihei R...

Whether you're still sleeping or been up for hours, everything feels doable at 6 in the morning. The hours ahead hold so much possibility. We're going to be productive. Well nourished. Well liked. Well dressed. Well mannered. Relief is coming to those who had a rough night. A reserve of energy is now available to those who didn't. Then life hits. Emails and texts pour in from people that make you regret that extra cup of caffeine because your heart's racing and mind moving too rapidly. And it isn't even the official start to the day.   Kids won't get ready. Dogs won't poop while the ground's dry and skies clear. Significant others head out too soon or linger too long watching some lame ESPN show when there are dirty dishes still in the sink, school papers to be signed, outfits to inspect, and contingencies if the dog still won't go No. 2.  At 6 a.m., we've yet to break plans, promises, or hearts. We're still convinced the next 18 hours will u...

Sometimes I wonder if we establish New Year's resolutions now because of how hard winter holidays hit. The angst of family gatherings. The aching reminders of those we've loss. The accumulation of gifts in need of a place to go. The scale that doesn't budge (at best) due to the uptick in treats. The end-of-year work assignments weighing on us. The exercise routines uprooted by inclement weather or injury. Even under the best of circumstances, something always feels off right about now.  That's why in 2024, I'm committing to less. Less junk work that dilutes quality. Less negative thoughts. Less mindless scrolling. Less yelling. Less sugar contributing to inflammation. Less carbs that make me crabby. Less caffeine that impacts sleep. Less trips to the store because I'm bored. Less guilt saying "No." Less talking. Less sitting. Less bad TV. Less social media. For me, this has less to do with consumption and more with capacity. I don't want to quant...

As the sound of cars combusting and trees crackling grew louder, I weighed what to pack and what to let perish. I'd already instructed my two teenaged daughters to load up our car trunk with their important belongings while my husband handled priceless artwork and photo albums. Hours later at an oceanfront hotel (for $1 per night!), we opened the trunk in the parking garage to see what survived the Cedar Fire. I expected to find dance trophies, school awards, and yearbooks among unwrapped birthday gifts and a melted cake (it was my daughter's 15th birthday). Instead there were plastic grocery bags filled with Funyons, Pringles, and Diet Coke. I protested until one of them pointed to a white bag wedged near a wheel well. "Ah, is that your wedding dress ?" It was true. Instead of holding on to cherished race shirts and trophies and medals, I'd tossed in a piece of clothing I wore only once and would never wear again. No 'Yes to the Dress' Moment I'd been...

Screen actors, on the whole, tend to be boring in public. They are never as attractive, charismatic, or tall in real life. They can be witty during live interviews, but you get the impression that wasn't the first time they delivered that line. Even when trying to appear authentic, they somehow remind us this is work. That's not to say I don't love seeing celebrities. I mean, I've ben riding my chance encounter with an A-lister during a run in Del Mar for years now. I am the most annoying kind of name-dropper. I'll casually mention how BD Wong asked for sushi recommendations the other night when actually he threw the question to the La Jolla Playhouse stagehands standing next to me. (To be fair, the late Roger Rees really did look me in the eye and ask my opinion on a play he wrote and directed. I told him it was fascinating, even though it was still rough around the edges. No matter, it made it to Broadway.) That should mean I'm the type of attendee to be dis...

At 3:06 a.m. today I posted the above photo (of a photo) on my Instagram feed with this caption: You know you've officially grown old together when even your photos are middle-aged. Happy anniversary, boo. #circa1981 #vpi [as Virginia Tech was better known back then]. Didn't see it? That may be because at 3:18 a.m. I took it down. In those 12 minutes listening to someone's deep snores, I considered who might see the post, including friends who've failed at marriage a time or two.  I then spent the remainder of those dark hours trying to recall the details of this day 37 years ago. I remember feeling queasy -- in part because I'd spent an entire night unable to find a sister who'd gone AWOL and then shifted to worry what too much liquor at our afterparty might bode. I also was pregnant, but didn't know it.  Since then, I've wondered why we've succeeded where so many other relationships have not. Some of our friends had no choice; their spouses checked...

  My favorite holiday is 4th of July, where the vibe’s low-key, family is optional, primary colors rule, and day drinking is encouraged. Independence Day is especially big in our former neighborhood, which hosts a run, a ride, a party in the park, and a parade. We return every year, making the 4th as much a reunion as anything. It is surreal to see the kid from three doors down now showing off his pregnant wife and my daughter’s flower girls turning into teenagers. I show off my young grandsons too. Me, the former neighbor with egg-cracking calves that ran for hours every weekend, now unrecognizable with lighter hair and a lumpy midsection.  Everyone asks if I ran the shorter or longer race and, for the second year in a row, I explain I don’t run anymore. This explains a lot, I sense them thinking as they politely drift to the next person with a red cup. Next year, I’m doing the ride – the longer one -- I vow after the seventh sip of my mango mimosa.  The parade is pur...

  Talk about transparency.  Unable to sleep after indulging my Southern cuisine-depraved taste buds with she-crab soup and a collards-infused risotto, I thought I heard rain and opened my hotel’s curtains. Directly across from me was a modern, all-glass high-rise apartment complex. At night, you can look into any room at or near eye level.  First, I watched people make a late dinner, then checked later to see who was watching what on TV. I never looked out the window more than a minute; it felt weird being a voyeur even though if they looked over they could see me watching them. Around 11, I looked again -- this time to watch a rainstorm hit. Someone fell asleep with the ceiling light still on. Maybe he kept his curtains open to watch the rains too. Someone else stayed up to binge a Netflix series I had watched last weekend. A few others also appeared to still be awake like me around 2 a.m.  I’d come to this swanky part of Atlanta a day prior to participate by invita...

Back when I first launched this blog, I was a guest on 91x’s  Resurrection Sunday , a program then hosted by the late Steve West. Sundays were my long run days, and I spent hours listening to West, including an hour of “Hey Mom, I’m on 91x!” with a guest deejay decidedly not from the industry.   I “auditioned” by first filling out online the 20 songs I’d play, which not coincidentally were Steve West’s favorite songs along with a few rarely played tunes. The legendary disc jockey called, we talked, and I was booked for that weekend’s show. I gave several shoutouts, including to my fellow San Diego Track Club runners then training for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon.   At the following Tuesday track workout, one of the run leaders told me he’d listened the entire hour. “You only picked one good song,” he said. “But it was a good one. I’d listen just for that one song.” That song was Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill.”   I’ve loved that song since the first time I heard it...

I do not know the origins of Pip’s name. I’m sure my mother came up with it. It fit her perky personality as a pup and it helped she answered to any variation. Pipperdoodle  when around designer dogs.  Pipperoni  when scavenging food that fell on the floor.  Pippo  when she gained too much weight. And  Pippen , which I always thought was her actual name until I saw her AKC papers.    Notice I’m using the past tense. Pip isn’t here anymore.   For the past week I’ve moved through days in a quiet state of grief. Bawling over an abandoned, half-eaten cheeseburger in her food bowl—her final meal, it turned out. Sobbing when removing her favorite blanket and leftover treats. Sniffling after tossing her medicated shampoos and unused prescriptions and giving another family our scented poop bags and extra-large pee pads.    It didn’t seem right to remove all the void reminders so quickly, like she wasn’t worth mourning. But Tuesday was trash...

A few months ago, while spending a weekend in Oceanside, guests from out of town asked if we could swing by “the Top Gun house” on our drive home. The blue bungalow where the character Charlie (Kelly McGillis) lived had recently relocated to commercial property near the Oceanside Pier. This was an improvement from the last place I’d seen the home on a dirt lot after being rescued from new owners who wanted it torn down. Townspeople rallied to save the structure, citing its historical significance as a place Hollywood made famous. An investor spent $1 million on a much-needed facelift.   That building, now a pie shop, got a lot of attention this past week as everyone readied for the official release of  Top Gun: Maverick , the sequel that originally was to open two years ago. Local news outlets all took turns promoting the pie shop that pays homage to the 36-year-old film. The premiere was held 45 minutes south on the USS Midway along the Embarcadero a few weeks ago. There were...

Several years ago a friend raved about a recent trip to a cooking school in Tuscany. She and 10 others stayed at this villa where you made and ate chef-instructed meals and took field trips in between. The setting was surreal, she said. The food, divine. Especially since every meal included fine wine. She wanted to go back with friends, so three of us made plans to go the following summer.   Then we didn’t go.   Let’s do this, I told my husband a few years later. He instead suggested we take one of those fancy train rides through the Canadian Rockies to celebrate a milestone anniversary. I looked into it and put down deposits, imagining views of Lake Louise and meals on wheels as the glass-ceiling train car rolled under canopies of aspens.   Then we didn’t go.   Booked a prized cabin in the middle of Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Parks so we could nestle among the ancient redwoods each night and explore beautiful lands each day. And, feeling adventurous, I paid in ad...

If I seem a little taller, it’s because I’m back on my high horse.   We’re not even through the second week of 2022 and already so much has gone wrong. Everywhere kids are home from school or daycare or afterschool programs because they’ve come in close contact with someone with Covid, or they themselves are the viral vector. Employers want to see your negative Covid test … without providing such tests. I spent a half day trying to find a store selling rapid tests since online kit orders now take weeks. PCR test results for those who have a full gas tank or half day to spend in line with  sick people  now take longer because labs are overwhelmed .   So instead of putting up with this level of disruption, I’m pulling out. I’m waiting until the current Covid surge and testing mania abates and laying low in the meantime. I preoccupy myself with figuring out how to get my training back on track. I’ve done four runs in the past 12 days; that isn’t going to get me where I...