Run DMZ

I launched this blog exactly one year ago to convey the important concepts and technologies I came across in my line of work. At the time, I had no idea how many others far more knowledgeable and articulate were contributing to this collective. Wanting a clever name, I settled on something catchy: Run-DMZ. It combined my favorite pastime with an IT term, and it was a twist on the familiar name Run-DMC, a hip hop group that, truthfully, I know only from one overplayed pop song. Plus, DMZ stands for demilitarized zone, and it seemed apropos given last year I transitioned from a military life to a civilian one. Most of those early entries focused on information security and privacy, with an occasional update on my running or other experience, such as my guest stint on a popular radio station. Then the focus changed when I joined Complete Running’s Running Blog Family and posts shifted from the DMZ to the Run. Comments trickled in from old friends and family, then new folks. At some point...

This morning, while waiting for my tardy training partner at Miramar Lake, I noticed a flock of ducks and a few geese mosey up the path in front of me. The geese in particular looked a little angry. With my running pal a no-show, I decided to dash into the restroom before heading off. Only soon as I tried to open the bathroom door, I was rushed by a mob of honking geese and ducks. I quickly shut the door, wondering how badly a duck can bite. Then I heard a flush from the other side of the four-stall building and decided to make a break for it. After I escaped unscathed, I asked the police officer who'd also been indisposed what was up with these territorial birds. He explained that the Vietnamese woman who feeds them bread each morning was running late. "She never comes up this far," he said, "but they don't know that." That I am a short woman with deep-set eyes and happened to be covered in cracker crumbs must have added to their confusion, though the offic...

Today I wrote about how one in five employees currently use company resources to look up porn, gamble online, check on their favorite sports, read personal e-mail, shop on eBay and hook up through an online dating service. Interestingly, those who work in manufacturing are most likely to go looking for love right under their bosses' noses. And lest one think it's a man thing, consider also that engineers, another heavily male field, are among the most behaved when it comes to their work Web surfing. I'm not surprised by the findings, given the long hours we now all work and the Web-enabled mobile devices we now are issued to keep at it once we're home. Report: Looking for love in all the wrong places

Yesterday our marathon training group headed back to Poinsettia Park in Carlsbad for another major bun-burner. The course took us inland, up Palomar Airport Road, where traffic on the six-lane thoroughfare whips by going at least 55 mph. We then turned into newer residential developments with some grand views. The entire course was a series of rolling hills, which in runnerspeak means “relentless.” Most were long, gradual inclines or declines but along miles-long Melrose Avenue the terrain contained some serious dips and climbs in elevation. It was an out-and-back, which gave us the advantage of knowing what to expect the second half. I’m not sure it helped some conquer the hills any better, but it was a big bonus for me. I started out conservatively, easily talking up a storm and mentally noting the first part on Hidden Valley Road was a steep decline, which meant I’d have to save something at the end to get back up it. “I’m not opposed to walking this after doing 15 miles,” I told a ...

Before I begin, here's a wonderful tribute to Ursula Rains in today's Union-Tribune. And for a glimpse of what Tuesday nights at Balboa Stadium are like, here’s a recent write-up in the local newspaper. This week was our last group tempo run for the marathon season; next week we do fartleks (“speed play”) and then switch to 800s until the marathon in June. For those not-in-the-know, tempo runs are also called threshold runs. They’re done at 75-85% of your maximum heart rate. Basically you run faster than normal, but not so fast that you can’t maintain the speed for the duration of the run, either in preset minutes or miles. You can talk, if you must, but not in full paragraphs. At least not without a lot of effort. I do tempo runs with the training group on Tuesday evenings and then again with a training partner on Thursday mornings. The workouts are quite a contrast, but both have their merits. On Tuesdays, I barely speak once the workout’s underway. I stay focused on finding ...

There's a contentious article on just how much battery usage and storage space are sucked up when you download music files that have copyright protections, such as iTunes. If you have a non-iPod player, as I do, you definitely notice that you can't load as much iTunes music as you can straight-off-the-CD songs on your playlists. My Rio Cali uses a AAA battery and lasts up to 10 hours. I never run that long in one stretch, so the situation suits my needs. If you find, however, you aren't able to fit as many files as you'd like, it might be the DRM (digital rights management) wrapped around the file. That also goes for the PC where your music library is stored. Our computer memory took a huge hit once everyone created their own iTunes library. Just something to keep in mind if you fear a computer crash or if your MP3 player seems to konk out, and at the most inopportune moment.

I think Donald in his comment on my last post is right -- it does seem colder this year. And I have two recent incidents to back me up. I just returned from a trip to Henry's Marketplace in Poway and saw mountains in the distance covered with snow. SNOW! That's a first, and I've travel that route about once a week for almost five years. Even more strange was a pile of slush I found during my morning run yesterday. Corner of Ironwood and Red Cedar streets. 5:30ish in the morning. I stopped, kicked it and then bent down and touched it. It was cold and poruous. And dirty on the edges, like sidewalk slush you'd find during a snowmelt. I smelled it and it was odor free. I didn't taste it, though. There are limitations to my curiosity. The slush lined the entire street corner but was gone by the time I came back through about 30 minutes later. By then the sun was up. For the life of me, I can't figure out how the snow got there. Even if someone dumped it, which is mo...