Back 2 Life - Back 2 Reality

28th April 2012 - Yongin Marathon. The day started out brightly, got increasingly better, flourished into a euphoric crescendo, simmered to a warm fuzziness and resulted in six to seven months of the utmost frustration.

What happened?

A crisp sunny start to the day found a jovial group of Seoul Flyers make their way to Yongin for the latest race in the Spring season. It had been a great season on a personal level, and the labours of a stiff winter were bearing fruit in the form of ever improving performances, podium finishes and a general feeling of 'well-being'. Pre-race the general banter was flowing among the comrades in arms as each respective race got underway. I managed to finish 1st place in the 10km race with possibly one of the closest sprint finishes in the history of Korean amateur running (blatant sensationalism!). I won by a hairs width and a margin of 8/100th of a second. 

Give me back the last 7 months and  I'd happily have taken 2nd place.

Soon after the endorphins in my body had simmered down I was to realise that I'd over extended myself on the home straight and done myself some mischief around the groin region. I managed to somewhat mute the pain orally, by way of Makgeolli and Meat at a nice little restaurant nearby the event. A general feeling of pride and excitement drawn from victory also managed to circumvent the issue.

The next morning was to begin an exceedingly long and hard struggle to get back to running consistently and pain free. A struggle that was to devour six months worth of my beloved hobby and somewhat tainted the end of my tenure in Korea as I missed race after race and had to take part in the club as a mere spectator. Something which I now understand to be very difficult to cope with. After visiting the 'Running Doctor', I discovered that I had developed a bout of chronic tendonitis of the hip flexor. At this time, with only the ability to run a maximum of 10-15 minutes every third day or so due to the pain, I discovered that I was terribly addicted to both running and the thrill of competition and that the withdrawls were lurking in the shadows. My outlook on life became somewhat lackluster and although adopting a brave face at all times, somewhere within the darkness was pervading my very being. Imagine suddenly reducing mileage from a generally joyous 80-100km a week to a painful and pitiful 10km, if I was lucky.

I realised that it was going to be a long haul and in some ways I had to disassociate myself with running.

I couldn't give up the Seoul Flyers though. Like a junkie in recovery, the club was my Methadone. It was the thread that held me together. However, I did quickly realise that all the drug paraphenalia had to go. This blog went into hibernation. I stopped using Daily Mile. I stopped buying Runners World. I ceased pouring over endless running-related websites. My charts and graphs on Garmin Connect flatlined. I no longer gave a shit about my resting heartrate or lactate threshold. (Oh but I did.) My obsession with buying running shoes came to a grinding halt. In fact, I had a pair of Salomon Speedcross 3 that sat unused in their original box, tucked away in a cupboard for several months. It was all I could do to stop myself from tearing them from the packaging and cradling them in my arms as I sat cross-legged on the floor gently rocking back and forth, tears falling upon their beautifully crafted yet totally unsullied Ortholite insoles.

After leaving Korea in July '12 and before returning to Australia, September '12, Minju and I went on our travels, visiting my sister in Canada for a month before heading to the Perhentian Islands of Malaysia and Gili Islands/Bali in Indonesia for another five or so weeks. In Canada and five months after sustaining the injury I finally felt like I was making some good progress and managed to run a WHOLE HOUR in one hit, deep in  the Algonquin National Park along its spectacular trails. This was a major breakthrough. Although having said that, I was in 'Bear Country' and I was compelled to keep moving, my mind otherwise occupied.

Indonesia served up a severe dip in my running activity. In some ways I thought this would be highly beneficial allowing the injury to properly heal as I became increasingly sedentary. In retrospect, I'm not so sure this helped one iota, as I will come to explain shortly. I did however hone my skills in ultra-hammocking and spent many hours in training. I fully expected to get back to Australia a little out of shape of course but now able to really kick on, clear of all niggles. My assumptions were again proven to misguided as 'The Hip' once again became problematic. Now, unfortunately, I was in a country where multiple visits to physiotherapists can run into hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Gone were the days of three to four kinds of treatment and a good hour or more worth of attention for a paltry 10,000 Won. I was on my own. If my body was to right itself now, it had to do it of its own accord.

Upon starting work in the CBD of Sydney and finding an apartment in Rose Bay, a distance of 10km separated the two. I decided that I would begin to run or cycle to work everyday and see where I went from there. I suddenly experienced huge improvements at the injury site. One hour runs quickly became two. Two hour runs became two and a half, and soon I was able to run that magical three hours and therefore the Sunday LSD run was reborn. I decided to move away from road-running as was always my intention when returning to Australia, so trails and mountains became the central focus in my life, second only to my wife of course.

So how or why the sudden improvement? I'm not sure. I'm no Doctor that is for sure. But if I had to hazard a guess, I would put my recovery down to the 60 to 70km a week of bike-work that I have been doing since getting here. I just think the non-impact workouts that my hip flexors have received from cycling have been hugely beneficial. As mentioned before, I think that not doing anything in Indonesia may have even set me back somewhat.  Now I am running around 70km a week and cycling the same amount.

It still hasn't healed 100%, but I have a feeling there may be some scar tissue at the injury site and this is what sometimes starts to kick up a fuss, stoking the flames of paranoia within me all over again. I still haven't been able to add any track or general speedwork to my week, but I touch on some steady state runs or tempo and I have competed in a couple of trail 10K's which have been an all out effort, and I have pulled up OK after. A little sore. But this has resolved itself quickly.

I feel comfortable enough now to re-introduce the drug paraphenalia back into my world. So here I am, back doing my Junk Mileage, active on DailyMile once again and now on Movescount (just got the Suunto Ambit, marvellous). I'm able to create mental wishlists once again as I'm bombarded by Running Warehouses latest 'sneak peeks'. I can regard other runners now without intense feelings of jealousy and the urge to smite them all. And best of all, by a country mile, is the fact that I am able to compete once again.

Out of all this, can I give any advice to those with long term injuries? No. Not really. We are all wired up differently. Our perceptions of what constitutes a crisis or not as the case may be, are vastly discordant. One persons mountain may be anothers molehill.

All I do urge, and simple to do, now that I am 'clean' again, is to not lose sight of all the wonders that the world has to offer, peripheral to your passion for running. And most importantly, don't let your injury affect your nearest and dearest. That's just not fair. You will heal.......... eventually.

It's good to be back.

Won is the Winner. Racing in Korea

Only yesterday, I was astounded, nay, gobsmacked, to discover that if I had intentions of entering the New York City Marathon, I'd have to stump up a rather steep three hundred and forty seven of your crispest greenbacks.

"Flight and accommodation included?" I hear you ask. Not on your life! This is the cost for overseas entry. Then comes the adrenaline fuelled application process where general entries are decided upon in the form of a lottery. So I suppose, even if your name stays firmly in the hat for that particular year, then at least the event has awoken your endorphins in some fashion. Although, you will be happy to know that after three consecutively unsuccessful lottery draws, automatic entry the next time around is afforded. Fourth time lucky nonetheless. There is guaranteed entry for those runners who have achieved certain times within the various road-racing distances, and I am not opposed to this. A sub 2:55 full marathon or sub 1:23 half marathon time will get you across the line before you've started. I do not view this as elitist whatsoever, I see it as just deserts for those who have dedicated a lot of hours, come rain or shine, to running themselves into that position.

Living as I do in Australia (when not in Korea) I have a burning desire to put myself through the torturous North Face 100, a 100km trail run that winds its way through the eucalypt canyons of the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney. $330! There has to be a certain amount of understanding that the logistics of these kind of ultra distances across this kind of terrain inevitably results in higher operational costs. But with one quick browse of the TNF100 forum within the Australian website www.coolrunnings.com.au, a general feeling of disquiet towards the disproportionately elevated race entry, year on year, is much in evidence. Dean Karnazes, the self-proclaimed 'Ultramarathon Man' ran the event two years ago citing it as the "hardest 100 he has ever run". As may be, but not so hard on his pocket with a fully deserved North Face sponsorship in tow.

As Micah True (A.K.A Caballo Blanco, the Colorado ultrarunner who plays a lead role in Christopher McDougall's riveting book 'Born to Run') says, "Running isn’t about making people buy stuff. Running should be free, man."

I'm not completely in bed with this view. I do have a couple of legs dangling from the duvet, but that is to say I am more in bed, than say showered, dressed and ready for work.

There is no such thing as a free lunch. 

All of this leads me to feel a certain amount of fortune, but not a fortune per se, in being part of the Korean running community. Quite simply it is amazing value on so many levels. 

With the Seoul International Marathon just a matter of  6 weeks away, I am looking forward to savouring every one of the 42.195 kilometres, which will have cost me less than a dollar each by the time the finish line comes into view! That's right, arguably Korea's flagship marathon, on its brimming calendar, a mere 40,000 Won. This is an IAAF Gold Certified race, attracting in excess of 20,000 runners annually. It is also a Boston Qualifier. It has all the hallmarks of globally renowned races such as NYC's shebang, only 7 or 8 times cheaper. None of Korea's 'big' race offerings, up to marathon distance, will cost more than the equivalent of $40. Nationwide, there are abundant silver and bronze certified races for every runners delectation. Most races also provide 5km, 10km, Half and Full distance disciplines. These races run from $15-35, distance dependant. No lotteries, no qualification times, no waiting lists, no remortgages, just sport for all.

Shifting the focus now to another element of Korea's tangible value, I want to look at the sheer volume of races on offer. It is possible to enter a well-organised marathon almost every weekend of the year, excluding the height of summer or the deep midwinter, where the oppressive humidity or boreal winter climate dictates the need for a very short race hibernation. I would guesstimate around only 6 weekends of the year carry no races. Astonishingly so, this can be applied to Seoul's race calendar alone. A very prominent feature of Seoul's long distance racing scene are those individuals who have completed in excess of 100 marathons in their lifetime and have tramped their way into the prestigious 100 Club. Only a month ago, during a small-scale albeit well executed event, I saw a Korean runner who was completing his 300th marathon. Given the cost of racing and the rather more sedate calendars overseas, I'd be interested to see where Korea stands on a global scale as far as these 100+ marathon stats are concerned. To achieve this in the States, one would have to have a good amount of expendable time and money, I'd surmise.

So where exactly does Korea sit among it's AsiaPac peers as far as marathons are concerned? Here is an interesting graph taken from The Scientist Runner's blog, a marathoner who travels around the region, running more often than not, the bigger races.

A graph to highlight volume of popular marathons in the AsiaPac region

I'd like to point out that there are far more than 44 marathons available in South Korea over the course of the year. This graph serves to highlight the more established races on offer.

Yesterday I was test-driving the new online application form that has been created for my running club's website. One data field asked how many Marathons and Half Marathons I had raced in my running career. Luckily I keep all my past race information on a spreadsheet and so I was able to pull up the details. I could quickly recall the four half-marathons I ran in Australia between 2007-2009, as a fair-weather runner. However, once in Korea and taking up the pursuit with a degree of ever increasing seriousness, I was surprised and delighted to see that I had run 22 half-marathons between July 2010 and December 2011. Add to this numerous 10km events, a couple of 5km's and 4 marathons, then you can see what is happening here. 98% of these races were in Seoul alone.

Shifting the gaze back to my original point, concerning the rising costs of racing in the western world, Jennifer Parker, a professional US Race Director, goes someway to justifying inflated raceday expenditure;

"It's tough for Race Directors such as myself to scale back on the budget which unfortunately translates into high race fees. People want awesome swag, a nice t-shirt, warm post race food, police presence, medical assistance, music, volunteers (which usually entails a donation to their charity, so they aren't free), the ability to get there [sic] stats as soon as they cross the finish line, etc. This takes money and if you don't deliver you run the risk of not having another event!!! I do this for a living and in the end all said and done, I don't make a ton of cash since I'm a small company producing small events that don't get BIG SPONSORS. Yes, big races should be ashamed of themselves, ie ING NYC Marathon for charging more and then saying it's because of police. They made something like $15 million last year off of that event. I don't know the last time I heard that $15 million profit wasn't enough for one day. Ehhhh...I'm nobody, but I put on one hell of a race, which...you're gonna have to pay for"

So in breaking down the requirements of the race experience that Jennifer suggests are essential in creating a successful event, Korea more than adequately makes the grade.

i/ Awesome swag (a nice t-shirt) - Korean swag is at best fantastic, at worst functional, but never a complete waste of time. Once again bear in mind the entry costs. Some races that I have entered have provided us with high-end technical shirts made by the likes of New Balance, Adidas, Nike, K-Swiss and Asics. Some were screen printed with the event details front or back, some just plain, but still very nice. A couple of times fleece jackets have been provided, some branded some not. Then there is the compression wear, winter tights, suncream, beauty products, herbal drinks, the list goes on. MP3 sunglasses, running shoes, a plethora of hats, gloves, scarves (or snoods), socks and sports towels. At the smaller events that are usually hosted in the countryside, we do get the benefits of beautiful scenery, sometimes worth an entry fee alone, but the swag usually runs to a 3kg bag of rice. As I'm in anecdotal mood, let me tell you about one race, out in the sticks, where Minju and I stayed in a hotel the night before, to avoid a ridiculously early rise in Seoul to catch a shuttle bus. Well, the swag was a 3kg bag of rice. I also finished in 9th place and therefore was in line for a top 10 finishers prize. I was excited. I was later presented with a 15kg bag of rice. Brilliant. Just once in a lifetime, everyone should try carrying 18kg of rice around 2km, to get back to the hotel they stayed at, after giving everything and more in a Half Marathon less than a half-hour earlier. The worst swag I ever received was a Melon. I don't like Melon.

ii/ Warm post-race food - This is where the Koreans excel, that is to say, food in general. Food figures prominently upon this fair peninsula and although not to every western palate, I would say it is the jewel in Korea's crown. Overall, the provision of post-race food is excellent. Asides from the usual goody bag received in exchange for a returned timing-chip (more on that later), hot soybean soup, bibimbap, tofu soup, soymilk noodles, are just a few of the delights on offer. Maybe there is such thing as a 'free-lunch' after all. There is a tendency for the food provided to be better at the races hosted in the country where the tender love of a wise old Korean's learned hand creates these mouth-watering treats. Some may argue that almost anything tastes great when the post-marathon refueling kicks in. The real treat on offer here though is that of Makeolli, an adult beverage formulated from rice. If you fancy, you can add to the woozy euphoria of an endorphin laced brain with a kick of alcohol. Why not? Everyone else does. It's quirky, it's unique, it's Korea, although probably not by the book as far as rehydration is concerned.

International House of Pancakes

iii/ Police presence - At the real big events, the major city marathons, there does seem to be a smattering of police here and there, but I throw forth a wild assumption that there would be no inflated cost for provision. In fact, it would actually give them something to do for once, saving them from blowing whistles at passing traffic for no apparent reason, white gloved, like an old skool raver. It'd be an opportunity to get away from loitering in  front of sleepy police stations smoking cigarettes. I reckon they probably volunteer like the volunteers. The police here seem perpetually bored. 

iv/ Medical assistance - Again, covered. From several ambulances here and there, to the delightful in-line skating medics who zip back and forth in sexy spandex, all your medical needs are catered for. However, a word of warning! A good friend of mine, Chris Green, has a great tale to tell that involved possibly his first ever competitive marathon. Several years ago, he was running, again arguably Korea's flagship marathon, the Chuncheon International. Upon reaching the 15km mark and starting up a shallow incline, he started to feel some increasing discomfort about the groin region. He quickly located the source and discovered some considerable chafing. The application of a good glob of Vaseline (or the like) and he'd have been good to go.  Approaching one of the said 'Inline Skate' medics and Chris being slightly wet behind the ears as it were, pointed in general fashion to the affected area. The 'medic' took it on himself to make a snap diagnosis of a potential groin strain and went to work lathering on the mentholatum. Chris spent the next 27km in even more discomfort as he endured considerable burning of the more sensitive areas of the human anatomy. 

v./ Music - Oh music. At this juncture, let's remember that music is a very subjective beast and so whatever spews forth from large tannoy systems or is projected live on stage may not always be to everyone's taste. But, that said, if you want music as part of your race experience, Korea does music, running the whole gamut from Trot to K-Pop. Trot, pronounced as "teuroteu" in Korean (sometimes called ppongjjak, due to its distinctive background rhythm), is the oldest form of Korean pop music. It was developed in the years before and during World War II around the early 1900s and at some races we are treated to an old Korean lady or two, dressed in Hanbok (traditional Korean dress of the Joseon Dynasty) bashing out a couple of Trot standards. On the other end of the vividly coloured spectrum, we have modern day K-Pop, where runners can hear the pulsating synthesised rhythms of computer generated homogeneity. Visually, depending who you are, the live K-pop acts (as per LIG Korea Open Marathon) are something else! Teenage girls and the  general male populous are catered for more than adequately.

K-Popping, 2011 LIG Open Marathon

As Mr. Martin Cooke, honourable ex-Seoul Flyer remarked during the post-race analysis, "these lovely ladies were performing when I crossed the finish line... I was in a bit of pain with my right knee but for some reason I forgot all about it for a while".

I have also witnessed Persian belly dancers, rock groups, children singing/dancing, dance troupes, traditional Korean drummers to name but a few of the sonorous delights to get one's toes a tapping. 

vi./ Volunteers - Every foreign runners biggest army of support! If these wonderful people don't inspire you to press on when the tiredness creeps in then nothing will. Many of the races water-stations are often 'manned' (children'd) by school-age boys and girls. It's just an opportunity for these exuberant youths to practise some English as they hollah a quick "Hello!", "Hi!", "What's your name?" and even once before, I got a "How's the weather today?" (a tough question to answer at mile 22) followed by the inevitable chorus of giggling if you manage a response. Out in the countryside a more common reaction to my larger and paler-than-native frame coming into view is "Waegukgin imneeda!" which loosely translates as "I say, here comes Johnny Foreigner!", superseded by more stifled giggles. The older volunteers who are also here, there and everywhere, are always so forthcoming with encouragement and friendly gestures. The protocol in and around the race environment seems to be to project their country in the best possible light. Foreigners really do come in for more attention at races than that of their own. It's wonderful.

vii./ The ability to get their stats as soon as they cross the line. 99% of all the races that I have ever competed in here have been chip timed. Ordinarily this comes in the form of its first incarnation, the small plastic disc that is tied to the shoelaces. Although, more and more this year, we have seen the timing mechanism built into the back of the bib, interestingly enough the brainchild of South Korea itself. At best I have seen my official time appear on my cellphone within a couple of hours, at worst on the official website a day or so later. 

So this neatly covers off all aspects of a race experience that runners on a global scale expect when receiving 'bang for their buck', or in this case 'whack for their won'. Jennifer Parker makes very valid points in her previous statement and I empathise with her view. In most cases you only get what you pay for in life. As per the case of the NYC marathon and in line with Korea's race culture, for $347, I'd expect to get a personal masseuse, tip-top technical race gear from head to foot, all rounded off with a post-race steak dinner.

  

I too have dipped my toe into the pool of race directorship while here in Seoul, putting on a race for my running club. I am but a mere apprentice, learning the intricacies of the 'Jones Counter' and how to properly measure out a course. However, it is a real ambition for the future that wherever and whenever I lay my hat, I become involved in putting on some great races. If a dollar or two can be made in the process then so be it, but I'd like to think that my stamp has the hallmarks of everything I have learnt while here in Korea. 

I too would LOVE to be a race director when I grow up.

Some other somewhat outre elements of Korean race culture that I find quite wonderful are the pre-race aerobic warm-ups, performed en masse, usually to 'music'. Not forgetting the start-line massage trains. No article on the Korean race scene would be complete without mention of these two particular attributes. 

Twenty minutes or so before the excitement inducing countdown and the starting pistols report shoots the field into life,  a warm-up occurs. An instructor of sorts will take his/her place on a raised stage/podium and begin a stretching routine that is imitated by all that face his or her direction. The music starts, the flexing begins. OK, OK, I hear you, stretching before running?? I know. And not even static stretching at that. Usually bouncy, twangy, twingey, hyper-extending stuff. It's a good job the natives are naturally so bendy in the first place, as the same exertion would render most westerners out of action before they had even started. Most of the western race entrants stay stock still, just enjoying the spectacle. That is unless the music just takes you and you can't hold back.

The start-line massage trains are not a personal favourite by any stretch of the imagination. I just can't seem to enjoy the touch of another man's hands massaging my shoulders. I do my best to get into the zone pre-race, game face on and all that jazz. To have this interrupted by an effleurage of the scapula, administered by a Korean construction worker (perhaps), leaves me somewhat perturbed. The worst thing is, after a minute or so, the whole field does a 180 degree about turn and is expected to return the favour. It's just not my bag. 

In conclusion, I'm not here to try and justify why or how races in the western world come to cost so much in comparison. In fact, not just in comparison, but by most ordinary folks scale of economics. There is surely scope for an interesting debate on the matter. I am here though to evangelise on the immoderately great value that the Korean race circuit represents. It’s a culture in its own right that I have grown to love with a passion. I will continue to enjoy it while I have the opportunity. 

Tomorrow marks the start of 2012's race calendar. There is a lot to look forward to and all at a price that never leaves us questioning value. That said, 47,000 people crossed the finish line at the New York City Marathon last year. They must be doing something right. You do the math(s).

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

Egg-Nogged and Kilometres Logged.

Christmas Eve 2011 - 5.30am

"Happy Christmas Kyoko"
"Happy Christmas Julian"
*cue jingly music*
So this is Christmas and what have you done,
Another year over, a new one just begun.
And so this is Christmas, I hope you have fun.............

The first strains of Happy Xmas (War is Over) greet my ears, a masterpiece, and the one Xmas score that no matter how un-festive I may feel (or try to feel), creeps into my core and warms my yuletide cockles. I set this song the night before to wake me up, and after having given the whole Christmas shebang not a moments prior thought, I was suddenly ready to embrace the holidays and gorge my way into a world of gluttony and over indulgence.

But not till I could first justify it.

I dragged myself out of bed just as the Harlem Community Choir were in full voice, still wrapped in the duvets warm embrace, much to Minju's chagrin. I soon threw it back over her and left the room with the faintest hint of jealousy.

I showered quickly and dressed even quicker, and soon after met with Jeff D. and Norah N. to bash out 25km. 20km before meeting the Seoul Flyers running group at 8am, and then a further 5km with the beginners group. Suprisingly, even though the mercury read -6, it didn't feel too bad at all, and with not a breath of wind to bother us, we were soon into it, chatting about all sorts of stuff. It was nice to have a light covering of fresh snow under our feet as we went and even though it was dark, the paths ahead were lit up with the magic of Winter. Jeff and Norah are quickly becoming my go to 'running buddies', as we seem to have fallen into a great pattern of coaxing each other away from our comforts when it would be all too simple to settle for the easy option of a warm sofa. Jeff Dixon takes up a lofty perch in the US Marines and has an impressive running record while Norah Newcombe is quite simply one of the quickest elite amateur female runners in Korea. So, they are certainly great motivators to have on board, and decent folk to boot.

It was a great way to start Christmas Eve, running for an hour or so in the dark, before the sun started to rise up over the Han River, our usual Saturday morning route. We joined up with more Seoul Flyers members at 8am and warmed down with a further 5km's before heading to the welcoming Paris Croissant bakery and the dazzling array of beaming smiles that emanate from the customer-centric sales-assistants (not.)

Coffee, Cheese and Onion Bread, Coffee refill (free), done, and now personally defrosted.

The afternoon took Minju and I to the residence 'chez Maltby', for a Christmas Eve party, including the fun game of White Elephant. This game is found primarily in North America but is also know as Yankee Swap, Black Santa, Chinese Gift Exchange, Dirty Santa, Thieving Secret Santa, Parcel Pass, Christmas Swamp Thing, or Pollyanna, with the majority of those monikers carrying a certain amount of political incorrectness. That said, even the name White Elephant may not be sanctioned by some London Borough councils. So, as per the gathering at the Maltby's, let's call it Ecumenical Elephant. And it was fun. A kind of gift exchange where you can forfeit unwrapping your selected gift, as per your turn, for another's already unwrapped gift.

The Xmas Eve crew at the Maltby residence

Waiting patiently to play Ecumenical Elephant

Minju and the cute wee Gabriel Maltby

More cut-throat wheeling and dealing in Yankee Swapping

And then there was Egg Nog. Now, this is a tipple of which there are very few, that has passed me by. I'm guessing this may be because it's popularity in North America outweighs that of the UK, even though it is thought that the origins of the drink may be traced back to East Anglia, or at least developed from Posset, a medieval European drink made with warm milk. Anyway.......

It's bloody lush. I like it a lot. I drank quite a few, and only slowed down my consumption when realising I was in (vanilla)essence drinking pure unadulterated cream! My internal calorie counter went off the scale and I was tempted to chuck on the trainers and head out for a further gallop, but contented myself instead with trying to teach little David (Sara Maltby's son) how to do a backspin. This was also soon curtailed when I realised there was whipped cream cheese in the making and started to feel a little bilious.

I settled into a few decent imported Beers from the impressive Maltby stock-pile, ate heartily, and enjoyed the company of a great bunch of people who made the day fat with merriment.

Christmas Day 2011

Do you know that sinking feeling you get, when after a big night on the booze, you take at least a minute or two to gather your senses and fall into the rhythmical beat of the new day, only for the metaphorical needle to slide off the LP with an almighty scratch, as you sit bolt upright in bed and recall a shameful event from the night before? My colourful past could offer up plenty of moments like this, where kicking oneself was too light a punishment for the crimes committed. (None illegal! well.... not many anyway).

This morning I had a similar feeling............the culprit, Egg Nog!!

The moral anguish quickly arose from my repentance for this terrible misdeed. I was strangled with remorse. I got dressed, wished Minju a Merry Christmas and kissed her cheek before she had the chance to open her eyes. I grabbed my water bottle and sailed down to the sanctuary of the Han River, by whose banks I hoped to wash away my sins on this holiest of holy days.

I did an easy 10km and arrived home feeling purified.......and ready for more naughtiness.

I had a smashing day, a low key affair with our very good Korean friend Jessica joining us for traditional fayre, Bucks Fizz, and some very nice red wine. It wasn't long before day turned to night and we were joined by Minju's brother (who had to work on Christmas Day, as is largely the Korean way, especially within retail enterprises). We got to have the whole Xmas meal again and it was equally welcomed and enjoyed. I staggered off to bed maybe a tad over satiated but at ease with the world nevertheless.

Minju and Jessica ready to tuck into a hearty roast

Pretty much soused and on the way to 2nd Xmas meal of the day

Bro-in-Law's first ever Xmas dinner. "Can I get you some chopsticks?" Revenge!'

Boxing Day - Norah and I ran 20km from Eungam station to Itaewon. It was cold, and after so much revelry, not that enjoyable on a physical level. But still glad to do it. Wasn't I?

So that was the Chrimbo period all boxed off and now as we segue into the New Year with cold toes, one has to wonder what 2012 will bring. No matter what, it will be an adventure, but more on that later.................

Freezing One's Proverbials Off

A very fond memory I have, is of a time way back when I was a grubby little chap, obsessed with football and spending weekends with my Dad. Friday night would be 'Fish and Chips' night and Saturday was 'Chinese' or 'Chinky' as expressed by way of mostly inoffensive parochial argot. I would heartily tuck into Sweet and Sour Chicken Balls and marvel at the brightness of the sauce, briefly wondering what was in it, without letting that affect my enjoyment. My entire knowledge of the Orient amounted to various dishes from the 'Chinky' in Northallerton, the town where my old man lived at the time. I do have one further enduring image of the Far East that stays with me from that special time. Quite often when devouring various quasi-Chinese dishes, we would all settle down to watch the ITV show Clive James on Television, in which he showcased unusual or (often unintentionally) amusing television programmes from around the world, notably the Japanese TV show Endurance. Za Gaman "The Endurance" is not particularly well known or remembered in Japan, but it became famous in other countries, particularly Britain, due to its appearance on the aforementioned show. Contestants would try to outdo each other in withstanding unpleasant experiences such as being buried up to the neck in sand and then licked by reptiles. The winner was the person who endured the longest. I seem to remember that partial nudity and freezing conditions seemed to figure heavily, with ice-baths a regular feature. Contestants would often have to be pulled from the bath partially frozen and would not be able to stand, all in the name of endurance. I remember laughing at these funny characters with their faces screwed up in pain emitting strange noises that were totally alien to me. I'd throw an uneducated and ignorant sweeping statement full of Yorkshire panache into the mix, such as, "They're all mad them Japanese lot!" 

So why the sudden recollection of these images? Well, the 20th Annual Daegwallyeong Naked Marathon is coming in January, and I will be partaking. In fact, there are a good number of my running club's membership  who have decided to endure and to race. For men, only shorts are allowed, although as you can see from the following photos, the running tight seems to be allowed, which I'd class as a total false economy. It is going to be blindingly cold. Daegwallyeong (대관령) is a mountain pass in the Taebaek Mountains of eastern South Korea. It is very close by Pyeongchang which has been selected for the 2018 Winter Olympics. The pass rises to 832 metres (2,730 ft) above sea level.  The average daily mean temperature in January is a raw -7.7*C. A brief glance of today's current temperature in Daegwallyeong reports a frigid overnight low of -16*C with windchill up to -24*C. So who's the crazy one now? As part of the event, there is a team race with five members per team running 10km each. Each member's finish time goes towards an aggregated team time. We have put forward a strong team and will be challenging for first place and some decent prize winnings.

After running in the extreme cold of last weekend, we did make a mental note that in January, we will be suffering similar conditions with only a pair of shorts to cover our personage.

Brits, Irish, Americans, Canadians, New Zealanders, South Africans, Koreans (we're a diverse bunch!)......... "they're all mad them lot!"

Naked Marathon.......... a couple of years ago

Tights should be banned in my opinion. I mean, what's the point?

And to give you an idea of what used to help pass the evening over 25 years ago, here is a clip taken from the Clive James show, showing the kind of tomfoolery that Endurance would endorse. It still makes me laugh to this day. Those crazy guys!

Endurance - as seen on the Clive James show

Of Wedding Bells and Frozen Trails

Saturday morning and 6am found slumber rudely curtailed by the shrill report of my phone's alarm. I immediately Googled the weather and a sharp intake of breath was all I could muster as the display read -11*C. This was in Seoul too, so I could only imagine it was going to be colder out at the mountains and up on an elevated trail. But, perversely, this was what had been firing my excitement all week. No turning back now. 

I gingerly left my pit (no pun intended) and started to layer-up after a quick shower. Sometimes the problem with extreme cold weather running is not so much being cold, as this is to be expected, but over compensating and being too hot. I placed trust in my judgement and hoped the technical gear I'd opted for would pull through. A first layer of compression wear would be the last line of defence in keeping the cold at bay, but also drawing sweat away from the body. The thermal layers would warm up the perspiration and then finally my Salomon soft-shell jacket would keep the wind out. With hat and gloves in place and an extra pair of socks for good luck I left the house at 6.25am to meet the three other intrepid Seoul Flyers members who'd decided to commit to this madness. 

It was cold..........and I can't understate that any more or less. 

The journey to Gangchon was uneventful, asides from a Korean guy who latched on to Sara Maltby and repeatedly wanted to tell her in his best pigeon English that, "I am drunken..... today coldest, today...uhhhh...coldest." Thankfully he staggered off the train a few stops before Gangchon but, quite eerily, his parting shot was, "You know 119...yes? You know?" and with that he most probably went in search of his next bottle of Soju. For those not in the know, the emergency number for Korea is 119. Interesting.

First view after getting to the station

No sooner had we all wondered if he knew something we didn't, that we arrived at the station to meet up with the rest of the crew. There were nine of us out today to tackle the 30km of trail on and around Bongwha Mountain. We were very keen to get running, more out of necessity than anything else. The first 5km found us on a steady climb, that with each bend rounded, refused to reward us with the ridge line, but invited us to grit teeth and dig in further. Did I mention it was cold? We got a reading of just shy of -13*C as we set off. Norah's frosted eye-lashes highlight this very fact, as seen in the photo. Please also note her Heterochromia Iridium, different coloured eyes in layman's terms, a la David Bowie. Cool.

Little Miss Frosty

We were soon at the top of the first big climb of three that were to present themselves on the journey. A good chance for a photo opportunity or two. 

Just after the first climb of the day

We ploughed on and managed to make good time, finishing the whole trail in just short of 3 hours. Overall elevation was around 1200ft, so not too crazy, but it is a fantastic trail, with rewarding scenery, and legs that will thank us for the effort in the end. With Seoul International Marathon only a few months away, there is no better conditioning than the ups and downs of this workout. Here are a few more choice pictures from the days events. I am planning to do it again on January 9th and would recommend you SF's out there to join us in preparation for March's big race. Of course no trip to the Gangchon area would be complete without a good feed of Dakgalbi and some Makgeolli to wash away the aches of the day. Absolutely delicious. Maybe even more so when you know you deserve it.

Up in the snow line with the super-fast Katie and Norah

Cold

Rewarding scenery adds to the pleasure

Nice

Jeff's bladder problem. Leaking pack froze his leg.

The trail-runners post run, happy, and no doubt a little tired

Looking back at the mountains we had tackled

No better way to round off the run - great food and company

And then there were Wedding Bells...........................

The last time and also first time I attended a Korean wedding was that of my own. A great day of course, but no sooner had it begun that it was all over, and in somewhat of a blur. Sunday morning was welcomed under blue skies and sunny conditions for my good friend's wedding. Mr Chris Green was to marry Miss Annie Choi, and this time I could sit back, relax, and take it all in. Very enjoyable it was too. A great day all round with some great memories captured forever, no doubt for Chris and Annie but for all those in attendance too. 

The bride was beautiful, as expected, Chris looked the business and took it all in his stride. It was nice to see a really great group of Seoul Flyers, the extended family, in attendance too.

The lovely bride with Minju and the smashing Jen and Jihwa

Annie with three very handsome men

The ceremony went off without a hitch and it was soon time to dive into the buffet, charge plates full of sundry items to savour and crack a bottle of Soju in celebration. Zuleika Rivera was adamant that she wanted a few Soju's and a little against my will, I did the chivalrous thing, and couldn't let her drink by herself. A true hero.
After the food was done and group photos taken it was time to go up to the roof for some traditional Korean ceremony that would see me have a part to play. As one of Chris's close mates, he did the right thing and asked me to walk in front of him as he rode a horse around the roof of the wedding hall. I of course accepted and agreed to do whatever was required. Little did I know that I would be required to 'kind of' dance to some traditional Korean drums as we went. I did my best, aided in part by the Soju that had been drunk, and I soon felt like a natural, like this was a totally normal thing to do. Here's a short clip of the frolicsome festivities that came to pass....... on a roof......with a horse.

I mean really, how normal is that!! It was a great end to the ceremony. A dedicated group of fun seekers decided to kick on to a local alehouse and shoot some pool and enjoy a beer or few. The night was rounded off nicely as the bride and groom caught up with us and a few went on to a Thai restaurant for some grub and further revelry. Here are a selection of photos from the day.
A big thank you to Chris and Annie Green for providing us with a memorable day and to all the Flyers for adding to it in their own unique way, and of course to my missus for being just ace.

The Wedding Hall, in all it's garish greatness

A table of Flyers

The happy couple

Western wedding attire

Sporting the traditional Korean Hanbok

Getting ready to perform

Chris, on a horse, in Seoul, on a roof

Stu with the lantern and me bearing gifts from the village

Paebaek

The other happy couple

Having a nice pint with Buckers

Having a laff