Run DMZ

  I don’t remember the last time I tried to sit cross legged on the floor in what we the un-woke once called Indian style. It’s painful because I have very tight hip flexors. I even hate doing yoga on account of how we all start with legs tucked under. My quads don’t cooperate and my feet cramp – even with two blocks under my butt.   I shuffle when I run due to too-taut hamstrings, and wobble during walks thanks to arthritic hips. This is what happens when long-time runners give short shrift to stretching. I’m not light. I’m not lithe. And I’m certainly not limber.   With that as the setup, allow me to introduce my word for 2022: Stretch. I need the daily reminder as I near a milestone birthday and, well, feel my true age. That makes this year’s word as practical as it is multi-purpose and metaphorical.   Kids, jobs, school, pups, grandkids and a geriatric pit bull with bladder issues have all robbed me of the requisite warmup-exercise-cooldown ritual. I’ve long stri...

I’ll be honest: I’m not a fan of the winter holidays. I tend to see them as just more work, only unpaid. I wish I wasn’t such a Scrooge, but it takes a lot for me to get in the mood to buy and wrap and ship presents. To bake sugary treats and not give in to sampling. To sit through a sensory-friendly showing of   How The Grinch Stole Christmas at The Old Globe and not cry. To deal with indoor and outdoor lights. Babysit more than usual. To make one more library-book run to stock up for an anticipated work lull that somehow rarely happens. To find everything on grocery lists for special brunches and dinners. And, of course, nail all of my many work deadlines.       Not to mention, even with early morning temps finally requiring heavier jackets and sweaters, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Never does here in San Diego.   But this is a great time to reflect on what worked and what didn’t this year, especially in keeping with this year’s theme:  Clean . In some...

Lately, I’ve been telling everyone within earshot that I’m tired of working so hard. It took a couple of carefree weekends and slow Mondays to realize how much more padding I want around hard weeks’ worth of work.    I’ve been a two-income earner for many, many years. With a few years’ exceptions, I’ve always held more than one job, as much to keep my mind stimulated as our cupboards full. And until now, I handled two occupations relatively well. But decades of heavy loads and a shortening lifespan have me reevaluating how I want to spend my days ahead. It probably doesn’t help that most of my friends now are unencumbered by jobs and school-aged children and living their best lives. I have several years before I can join them.   The hours add up My lifestyle is no longer a novelty.  A lot of people work gigs  beyond a full-time job. As a professional writer and budding novelist, I spend way too much time tethered to a desk and chair. I do get up at least once ev...

Yesterday I signed up to do next year’s   Bay to Breakers , the craziest 12k you’ll find in what remains my favorite city: San Francisco. I wanted to take advantage of the 48-hour low pricing (under $40); generous refund policy; and expiring airline credits. I’ve wanted to return to this event for more than eight years … and now I will if all goes as planned.   I’ll be running or, more likely, walking with my daughter and son-in-law, both B2B regulars. We’re already coming up with costume concepts and deciding which breweries to hit in our version of carbo loading. I’ve also been assured that seeking a position within Corral A doesn’t mean we need to maintain a 6-minute-per-mile pace, or that we get passed and cussed at the entire time.    Bay to Breakers is weird and wild, but the year we did it was weirder and less wild than others due to a bombing at the Boston Marathon just weeks before. That led to lower attendance, probably as much due to a stronger police pres...

The current mayor of San Diego campaigned on a pledge to treat the place like a metropolis rather than a network of sprawling suburbs . You think San Francisco, Chicago, Boston and New York, and you immediately think compact blocks with mixed-use buildings, high-rise apartments and stately rowhouses, corner convenience stores, great ethnic restaurants and excellent public transportation.   San Diego has those things too, except the great public transit.    I was reminded of how much San Diego has grown during a recent early morning walk from Little Italy to Seaport Village via The Embarcadero . And again, a week later when we visited  our old suburb with family in town.    I can remember some of my first runs along the Embarcadero, dodging more homeless people than tourists, even during Comic-Con . The Gaslamp Quarter was still the nightspot it is now, but you took greater risks walking beyond its boundaries in the dark.    Cortez Hill, East Vi...

  The adage “Once a runner, always a runner” may eventually prove untrue. But I’ve learned that friendships built around running endure if they are meant to. I think to my current circle of close friends and 90% of them began with us running together. I’m including one that began with a hike, not a run, but it’s the same foundation built from conquering distance, counting steps and breathy-but-not-breezy conversations.   Walking works too, but for me, my personal identity remains tied to running. It’s probably why I’ll commit to walking for the rest of my life, and within weeks pick up the pace despite knowing the higher risk of injury and arthritic wobbles. It’s not a healthy relationship, I admit.    I wasn’t always a social runner. In fact, one of the reasons I took up that form of exercise in my teens was to escape into myself. In my 20s, it was to escape crying babies and a crabby husband. And in my 30s and 40s, it turned competitive. You think when you pass ano...

I picked Labor Day to return to the gym because I knew everyone else preferred to do anything else but work out. There were a lot more signs on the door beyond the one I remembered warning to keep it closed. Now everyone entering was ordered to wear a mask and Department of Defense-approved athletic attire. A posted schedule showed the three times a day the facility closed for cleaning.    The check-in system was the same as it had been when I last used it March 2020. But the faces behind the desk were all new. I showed my ID and asked where the rowing machines were now located. Their previous location had been converted into an F45 studio – a gym within a gym and  the first on a military installation . The women’s locker room looked the same except for all the signs now prohibiting selfies, not just dying hair in the sinks.    When I first started attending  this gym  20 years ago, there was a lone rowing machine wedged between two pieces of Nautilus ...