Run DMZ

The king tides pummeling the cliffs of La Jolla Cove were the most impressive I'd witnessed in all my years living in San Diego. Of course, I usually head to the beach during the other end of the cycle: the extreme low tides that expose tidal pools filled with crabs, sea anemones, sea cucumbers, and lobster shells shed either naturally or by vicious currents. But that morning, with everything bathed in a celestial blue thanks to an impenetrable marine layer, we watched serious swells march toward the sandy beaches of La Jolla Shores. Closer to us, an inlet filled repeatedly with frothy waters while a gulp of cormorants (yes, I had to look that up) bore witness to the sea's incessant violence from a safe distance. There must have been hundreds of the black birds blending in with the dark, wet stone and dim light. Pelicans settled in on another cliff, recovering from their aborted flights in gale-force winds. They flew so close we could make out the veins in their webbed feet, fe...

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...

Some mornings you wish to put on repeat. Yesterday's was one of them. At the start of fall -- the false fall, where temps dip a day or two and then shoot back up to unbearable -- my friends and I created a master list of hikes we wanted to do when mornings cooled for good. I created a Google Doc and "as an example" filled the first set of tables with a hike at Volcan Mountain near Julian, with breakfast at a downtown diner afterward. Julian , for the uninitiated, is a popular, post-Gold Rush mountain town with a quaintness we city folk crave. Nestled in the Cuyamaca Mountains, one of the area's bigger natural attractions is the Volcan Mountain Wildnerness Reserve . My longtime hiking pals Deborah and Mary and I carpooled to the trailhead in Mary's year-old Honda Passport. There was little traffic along CA 67, 78 and 79 at that hour and we found ourselves pulling on our packs and adjusting our poles at the same time a festively dressed group was embarking on a holi...

If calmness and serenity are important, I don't recommend visiting Muir Woods National Monument on a weekend. Parking is competitive, despite mandatory paid reservations. The entrance can be a clusterf*ck because of construction and because everyone wants photos in front of the iconic sign. Walkways are often congested because, of course, people need to stop to take more photos -- of them, not the redwoods. That said, if you like moody shots, this is an excellent venue. This is an excellent place if you live or visit the Bay Area. It just took me weeks to realize it. We arrived on a Saturday morning in mid-October, falsely believing that an annular solar eclipse might reduce car and crowd counts. But this is San Francisco: No one could see the sun -- let alone it being partially blocked by the moon -- through a thicket of fog. And fall is an excellent time to commune with California redwoods, so say the swarms that joined us. One reason Muir Woods is so popular, aside from the ob...

When I used to run with someone, I loved to talk. Not only did I get to dish and vent, but I moved faster as I did. It sounds counterintuitive, but my  VO2 max seemed higher during conversation. On one run with a trio of friends in New York's Central Park, I warned in advance that I am faster when I talk. Midway through our route, I offered one of my convoluted stories requiring backgound asides, plot recaps, and a quick interruption ("Hey, was that Meg Ryan who just ran by us?!") Fifteen minutes in, just as I was getting to the best part, one of the women asked me to please stop talking. I thought she was upset at my storytelling and fell silent. Afterward, she explained between big breaths that I'd sped up to a pace she could no longer hold. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked. "No one could get a word in edgewise," she responded. My inability to notice everyone and everything (except, apparently, Meg Ryan) around me reflected poorly on...

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...

  A pile of plates revealed partially eaten Mickey waffles, two test-bit pancakes, runny scrambled eggs, and rejected berries mistakenly mixed with plain -- not "vernella" -- yogurt. We continued with two eggs benedict, surprisingly good PB&J pizza, and soft-serve ice cream cones that tiny tongues could not outlick. All because Mickey and Minnie were running late. We waited ... and waited ... until none of us could hold in all that food and frustration. Heading back into the sweltering heat, we consoled ourselves. At least Chip and Dale stopped by; otherwise, this expensive character brunch would have been an even bigger bust. I have been a Disney guest on and off for more than 50 years. I went to Disney World  with my grandparents and sister the summer it opened. I returned to run a marathon 32 years later. More consistent has been Disneyland . That first time, I flew with my two young daughters from Alaska. It took three flights and 20 hours, but we arrived in Orange Co...