Run DMZ

On the way back from dinner in downtown Los Angeles last Saturday night, we saw the road in front of the hotel was closed and my husband surmised all the cranes, lights and ramps were setting up for overnight road work. Oh no, I said, this is LA. Someone’s shooting something. I was right. It was a crew for an upcoming remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers and that night they were filming a pivotal crash scene. Another gawker and I befriended the set’s security officer, who gave us a bunch of his call sheets as souvenirs. Mine were scenes for an ABC show called The Nine (“The Nine? What the hell is that?” the cop gruffly huffed as he handed over the pages.) I also got sheets for an upcoming Will Ferrell movie called Blades of Glory . I let the other woman have the ones for this particular film because she’d already been standing around for 2 hours by the time I arrived. We chatted with one of the stuntmen, who explained both the “hurry up and wait” approach to filmmaking and how that...

I had my first “runless weekend” since late September and still returned home Sunday night with sore feet, tender shins and, a day later, flu-like symptoms. Using a street map’s legend, it looks like we covered a little more than 9 miles on Saturday and at least 4 on Sunday in shoes not designed for that kind of distance. There would have been more mileage, but we finally opted for the Metro train Sunday afternoon. Our first stop after arriving at Union Station was to find our hotel on the other side of town. This required us to walk through historic sections such as the touristy Olvera Street and the El Pueblo celebrated as the birthplace of the U.S.’s second largest city. From there we made our way through some sketchy sections of primarily empty shops, abandoned lots and makeshift homeless villages at that hour of the morning. Before long, though, the uneasy quiet of the unkempt gave way to a hive of activity: a colorful thoroughfare, where Latin music blared from open markets and ...

I talk too much. I see friends’ and family’s eyes glaze over and still the verbal diarrhea doesn’t stop. I compulsively fill whatever void there is with speech. It’s maybe genetic because my sisters are the same, which is why it’s a really bad idea to invite us over if you’ve got a big announcement. We’ll commandeer the conversation, and not fill it with anything as earth-shattering. Work meetings? Don’t even get me started. In the parlance of my former profession, it’s bad risk management. The more I talk, the more likely I am to say something stupid, insulting or unintentionally cruel. I will say that running solo again is beginning to help me wizen up -- i.e., clamp the mouth more often. So let's hope this turn toward becoming taciturn continues. For society's sake. Despite my social defect, I amazingly didn’t make a British study’s Top 10 Most Annoying Noises .* Here’s a list of what did: 1. Vomiting 2. Microphone feedback 3. Multiple babies crying 4. Scraping of train whee...

I would have written this last fall, but Run DMZ was then on hiatus. The recent DVD release of the movie The Guardian gives me another opportunity to write this non-running post. ------------------------------------------------------------- My husband never liked to talk about his work. In fact he was so mum, and I so compliant, that I didn’t know until we moved to Kodiak that he’d signed on to be part of a helicopter search-and-rescue crew that plucked people from churning seas in the Gulf of Alaska. I learned from listening to the other wives that it was dangerous work. And I later learned from covering dramatic rescues as a reporter that I should have been at the air station when the crew returned or when the Commandant awarded them for going above and beyond the call of duty. (I found out about that one when I saw my husband’s picture was on the front page of the local paper!) One night in Kodiak he didn’t come home. And he didn’t call, which meant he was still out on a rescue miss...

Driving up to northern California earlier this month, I saw all the icicles hanging off the frozen citrus trees and wondered if the crop was a goner. Guess so, based on last week’s news of major losses. I bought 5 navel oranges for $1 on Friday; word is they’ll be at least $1 a piece by the end of next week. Guacamole served at Super Bowl parties will likely take a bigger bite out of the food budget due to destroyed avocado crops here. It took me awhile to appreciate the quiet beauty of the vast agricultural land that dominates interstate 5 between LA’s San Fernando Valley and the wind farms and house-laden hillsides of the San Francisco Bay area, where we were headed. Rows upon rows of plant life are rarely broken up by buildings and billboards and as such, like the narrower highway itself, they seem endless. In the past few years, though, I’ve grown grateful for the change of scenery since these trips always heighten my appreciation for the people who help put food on our table. Than...

My piece on Alford Claiborne, a mega-marathoner worthy of anyone’s admiration, is in the January/February issue of Marathon & Beyond . Copyrights prevent me from republishing the piece in its entirety here, but I do have a PDF file I posted on the San Diego Track Club Wiki (link is on the wiki's Welcome page). I can also send anyone who doesn’t receive the magazine the file. Just e-mail me . Here’s the opening section to give you a glimpse: “What is that smell? Is someone smoking?!” Wherever he raced, the scent was hard to miss, let alone for Alford Claiborne to escape since the cigar he’d puffed produced the offensive plume. Donning his running bibs, including the Boston Marathon running number he’d earned through qualifying, the middle-aged marathoner sheepishly observed runners’ reactions and privately vowed that, as comforting as the occasional stogie may be, it was time to give them up. Backing up his resolve were two back-to-back bouts of bronchitis and a bet placed with ...

I don't know how many of you are familiar with Gary D. in Kentucky, but he'd like to boost his chances of winning an entry into the North Pole Marathon. I've followed his blog for awhile now and entries like the one in which he explains why he wants to do this are why I want him to do it too. After reading it, I hope you'll help put in a good one on his behalf as well. Good luck, Gary!