Daegwallyeong Snow Festival Naked 10km

The most anticipated event of the year, so far, came as quick as the bite of winter itself.

There was plenty of time in the run-up to this unusual race to develop feelings of apprehension. They were made vocal from some quarters, whilst others rebuffed any thoughts of danger and let the anxieties melt away. 

With scant regard for cultural norms, I took the unprecedented step of having an (un)dress rehearsal last Wednesday night, under the cover of darkness, while taking to the cold, serpentine Han River for a topless 5km run in, -2 degree conditions. Asides from scaring the living daylights out of one power-walking Korean ajuma who reminded me of primary school children racing to be the first in line for the lunch queue, only to be ordered, "Don't run!!"..... it was pretty much plain sailing. Parallel to the well-lit cycle path, I made my way at a good clip along the dimly lit track between the wind-whipped foliage, now in the throes of its wintry demise. I was sporting nothing but a pair of race shorts and a back-pack containing my warm gear. As I approached this old dear, I saw her pace slow to a standstill as she mentally digested what was happening here. She took two very nervy steps sideways, and as I came into full view she turned to the right 90 degrees and fled down an adjacent path. I felt bad, momentarily, but the devil in me managed a chuckle. Looking over my shoulder, she made her way back onto the track and continued on, no doubt concocting an exaggerated tale of terror involving crazy half-naked 'aliens'. I did nothing for the already flaky reputation of foreigners in the Itaewon area. But, it did serve its purpose and made me feel more comfortable with my upcoming role in the weekends tomfoolery at the Snow Festival of Daegwallyeong. I did realise though, that a forecast Saturday night low of -14 with a windchill of -20, to be a very different beast to my aforementioned experience. 

Sunday morning, and yet another pre-dawn rise was endured, all in the name of fun.

I got settled into my seat on board the chartered bus for the impending 3 hour journey eastbound. The grey and dour homogeneity of the city soon dissipated leaving us with increasingly snowy vistas as we climbed up into the Taebaek Mountains to around 3000ft. The ambient temperature of the bus was more than comfortable, but I was surprised as we neared our destination that the insides of the windows were icing over, which unfortunately did nothing to enhance the viewing of Mother Nature's learned brushstrokes. 

We pulled into the sleepy mountain-pass town of Daegwallyeong and upon the coach doors opening our comfort was compromised by an icy intimation to external conditions. I found myself in no hurry to leave my seat with another 45 minutes to kill before race start. I dismounted the warm mechanical steed and soon realised the inevitable, that yes, it was freezing. With snow all around, I mooched about the race start area, hands thrust deeply into pockets of goose-down and started to psyche myself up for the lunacy.

Five minutes later I was back on the bus.

Not because I couldn't stand the cold, but I just felt it unnecessary to loiter with the potential of getting cold when there was still an invitingly toasty coach at our disposal. However, only a couple of other Flyers had the same idea and it was Minju who ignited my internal fire upon discovering my warm whereabouts. 

"Come on you big Jessie!" she mocked.
"No I'm not" I whined, "It's just pointless being out there at the moment."

"That's not exactly team spirit is it?" she continued, and hopped back off the bus in her Arctic parka, fur lined knee-high boots, and fur lined deer stalker. Easy for her to say, I'll show her. I stripped down quicker than an adolescent male virgin on a promise, with only shorts, a hat and gloves to protect the 'extremities' and was the first one of our group out there to warm up. It wasn't actually too bad, surprisingly enough. 

The actual race itself was of an interesting format. It was a 10km event, with both individual and team representations. Teams of five members were to run the 10km and then the aggregated finish times would be recorded. We were allowed to enter two teams as a club, and for posterity's sake, I will name the members  of my team. Norah Newcombe, Jim Bates, Justin Becker, Adam Morris and myself lined up with real hope and the potential to take the top-spot and prize money of $500. We learnt that there were 12 teams registered in total, two of which were from the Seoul Flyers. The team I was a part of was made up of the 5 fastest members of the Seoul Flyers, bar two guys, one of whom is currently injured, and the other a very competent Ironman who is currently preparing for the Tour De Korea cycle race and therefore unavailable for selection. Still, with these omissions taken into consideration, we still had the chance to grab a share of the spoils. With both team and individual entrants frosted together, there was a field of around 300 other crazies. 

After a warm-up lap around the adjoining Snow Festival which had more of a parade of fools feel about it, we were lined up at the start-line and ready to go. And then we were off.

It was a good course, all on roads, thankfully clear of snow, that found us making our way around the surprisingly flat town and it's environs. There were plenty of surrounding mountains to enjoy if you had the ability to take it all in. Unfortunately, when racing, I tend to miss out on what is around me with my focus clearly trained on the person in front and in trying to catch them. It was a fast start which saw a bunch of runners bolting out the gate and before I knew it I was back in about 15th place for most of the first kilometer, but I uncharacteristically stayed disciplined, warmed up, and soon found runners dropping their initial pace as I steadied into the race. I got up into 8th by 4 kilometers and was feeling good. It was certainly refreshing to the senses running as we were with next to nothing on but any prior concerns of being cold were diminished in a flash. I managed to catch a few more runners, and before I knew it, the finish line came into view. Our club as always is well supported by wives, husbands, boyfriends and girlfriends of runners, and even by a few members who didn't feel this kind of thing to be their bag but still wanted to be there. It's always nice to hear the encouragement of your friends come into earshot as you make that last sprint for the finish line. I also love the fact that I'm always greeted after the race by Minju who beams a huge smile and delivers a massive hug. This alone sometimes gives me an extra spurt when I'm starting to flag, especially on the longer races like the half and full marathons. Making the person you love the most proud of you through your performance is a beautiful thing. It was the same when my Dad was alive and he came to watch me play football in my youth. Minju, like my Dad with my football, comes to see all my races. It is never taken for granted and never will be.

Unfortunately the course ran short by a kilometer which was a shame as I was closing in on the runner in front of me. I finished in 4th place overall, but much better than this, we took the first prize in the team event!! Our team members finished in 4th, 5th, 7th, 11th and 12th and had the best aggregated time by a good 2 minutes. 

It was a cracking day all round. When it comes to the Seoul Flyers I sound like a stuck record, it's always good. Well, 95% of the time anyway. The only time it's otherwise is if I let myself down with a bad performance or pick up an injury. I don't have a problem with being my harshest critic.

After the race we ate a hearty lunch together in a local eaterie which offered up the local speciality of Hwangtae. Hwangtae refers to a fish called Pollock (I said Pollock!) which is frozen and dried in the cold highlands at temperatures of around -10 degrees Celsius. The organs are removed and then the fish hung on outdoor 'flakes' at windy and very cold mountain areas for 40-90 days. The Pollocks* (tee-hee) are slowly dried by undergoing repeated freezing at night and melting at daytime. Pollock meat is changed into a unique texture as the flesh repeatedly contracts and expands during the process.The fish we ate is called 'Hwangtae-gui' which is re-hydrated by a sauce made of red chillies and then grilled. Delicious.

So, the next adventure up, will be a 35km trail run, and a return date with the mountains of Gangchon, this coming weekend, followed by the celebration of 'Seollal' on Monday, which is the Korean new year (as per the moon) which is celebrated with more gusto and meaning than the calendar new year.

But for now, I can enjoy the rest of the winter running season, fully clothed, with another unusual first time experience all done and dusted. Incidentally, the area we visited at the weekend falls under the jurisdiction of Pyeongchang-gun, the future host of the the Winter Olympics in 2018. As Jared Mitchell, a fellow Flyer keenly observed,

"Running in only a pair of shorts when it's -10 outside seemed like a good idea when we signed up in the warmth of our apartment. Why do it then?........... who else is going to be able to watch the 2018 Pyeongchang [Winter] Olympics and say "I was stupid enough to run half naked there!"

* In the UK, usually spelt 'Pollack'.  In 2009, U.K. supermarket Sainsbury's renamed Pollack 'Colin' in a bid to boost ecofriendly sales of the fish as an alternative to cod. The supermarket also suggested some shoppers may be too embarrassed to ask for the species under its proper title, due to its similarity to a popular English swear word (bollocks).

The black things are to hold my calves together and not to keep warm! OK!?

On the warm-up lap through the Snow Festival, running past the ice dragon

At the start line ready to get going and warm up!

Sprinting home with icy wind-burn

1st place team, Seoul Flyers 'A'.

With Sara and the unique Justin Becker. Check out those undercrackers!

Seoul Flyers enjoying a Hwangtae lunch

Here you can see the 'Flakes' with thousands hanging by their Pollocks

Mad Huskies and English Dogs

The extreme climate of Korea, in my humble opinion, is its achilles heel. For the country's plethora of positive offerings, its weather is not one of them. In my reckoning, maybe only 10 weeks of the year can be classed as truly obliging. Not enough bang for my buck. Maybe five years in Australia ruined me.

There was a time last summer when running along the Han River, dressed in as little as socially acceptable by nationally conservative standards, that I saw a large Husky dog labouring along the path, seemingly in an even worse state than myself. Its inflated owner also dressed for the oppressive conditions wore a look of pride with his t-shirt and shorts, as almost every passer-by "ooo'ed and ahhh'ed" their admiration for this fine canine. The first thought that dropped into my head was one of disdain for the self-aggrandizing owner, followed by a sympathetic albeit succinct internal monologue, aimed at the dog, consisting of "Poor bastard". Its tongue lolled from one side of an open mouth, its panting audible and its heavy coat punishingly hot. It made me question the owners mode d'emploi

Last night, down by the same river and co-incidentally somewhere close by the same location of my summer Husky encounter, I had another one. With temperatures around -8 and a stiff wind very much adding insult to injury, I came across this sublime specimen. It may or may not have been the same dog, but the contrast was stark. With its head held high, its eyes bright and a moist nose savouring the boreal breeze, it looked totally at one with the world. I slowed my pace upon approach and for a brief moment our eyes met. My eyes in actual fact the only part of my personage that was exposed to the elements, full-faced balaclava in situ. I can only imagine that its first thought was "Poor bastard". Actually no, I take that back, maybe it was "Stupid bastard". Harsh but fair. I mean after all, I'm there on that path, in those conditions on my own volition. Nobody has put a lead around my neck, dragging me from relative comfort so that both my owner and I can get some exercise. (Minju is not one for exercise anyway). I've never once tried to dig my heels in at the door in a futile attempt to evade the inclement conditions. 

Although that dog seemed happy last night, I'm still guessing that with strong pack instincts, it would prefer to be trotting along with a few other huskies. That's how I felt last night too. My pack instinct was strong and I was missing my two running buddies. It was the most challenging run I have done this Winter thus far, and by no means pleasant. Which begs the question why? Maybe my running partners would also be able to fathom the reasons why. We all have similar goals, we all have desires that we work hard to meet and perversely enough, we all enjoy the challenge that this suffering brings. Like a pack of working sled-dogs, we are all pulling in the same direction and running together as we do, tends to ease the burden of the load we carry. No doubt a training regimen for an upcoming marathon is in itself a load which can become a burden if not managed well. It's just so much easier to do with others.

Huskies need consistent training and do well with a positive reinforcement training program. They are of average working/obedience intelligence. They tend to run because they were at first bred to be sled dogs. Owners are advised to exercise caution when letting their Husky off the leash, as the dog could be miles away before looking around and realising its owner is nowhere in sight. They also get bored easily, so exercise at least once a day is essential. Failure to give them the attention or proper exercise they need can result in unwanted behaviour, such as excessive howling, marking, chewing on furniture, or crying.

A dog after my own heart.

So, with at least two more months of frigid temperatures ahead, and in order to protect our furniture, I'll be out there no matter what, doing my best Eskimo impression.  After all, you've got to be Inuit to win it.

My new favourite dog