Running commentary

Sometimes I wonder what I will miss most about South Korea when I come back to the U.S. Will I seek out the hot red sauce that is served alongside many Korean meals? Will I build a Korean-style barbecue in a deck table so I can have friends over to share thin slices of beef laid out on a lettuce leaves with rice and sauce? Will I begin a new fashion trend in America with his-and-hers matching (from head to toe) hiking outfits, replete with articulated pants and telescopic hiking sticks?

One thing I would like to bring back to America is the group warm-up concept that is popular at running races here in South Korea. I ran a 10k last weekend with my son Izaak and some friends from our school. While warming up I went near the starting line for the half-marathon that was about to commence. On a large platform stood eight race officials, overlooking the hundreds of runners about to go 13.1 miles. Music erupted over loudspeakers and an emcee began giving directions for the runners. The eight officials served as role models.

With great enthusiasm the emcee yelled to run in place. Next he directed everyone to raise their arms and wave their hands above their heads. Then it was time to drop your hands onto the runner's shoulders in front of you and give them a shoulder rub. Some karate chops down the back followed, and then with a great shout everyone turned around to repeat the process with the person behind them. A countdown ensued, and a cannon blast signaled the start of the race.

I watched in fascination and wondered: "Would Americans do this or would it be too much of an encroachment on personal space?"

If I remember, I want to try it at a high school cross-country meet or a local road race in Sisters. What would I have to lose?

This 10-kilometer race took place in real time not long after I got news of the state cross-country meet performances by the Sisters Outlaws. Having a race to take part in, along with Izaak, made me feel even closer in spirit to those high school runners and their coaches on their big day.

As it turned out, I had to employ a number of coaching maxims on myself as I ran through my 6.2-mile course.

First rule: Run your own pace regardless of your friends or teammates.

I began to get carried along faster than I wanted to go when I caught up with my school secretary Sue Young Jo at the first mile. I caught myself and simmered back down.

Second rule: Don't expect to feel great if you haven't done the training.

If you find yourself in this situation you have to keep your expectations low and your body moving forward.

Third rule: If you are having unusual discomfort like a side-ache or a very tight muscle, try to relax and keep your focus. Find some way to stay motivated and keep perspective.

I got a terribly painful cramp in my right calf just before the halfway mark, which is unusual for me, but had happened about six months ago unexpectedly. On that occasion, I limped home and nursed the sore leg for well over a week.

In this case, I REALLY did not want to have to stop and then negotiate a ride back to the finish. Some of that was pride. The last thing I wanted was to be picked up by the ambulance. My overriding concern however, was the fact that I knew it would take a lot of luck to find someone who spoke English well enough to understand what was wrong with me and provide what I needed.

So, I felt my best choice was to keep on going in hopes that I would be able to make it. I relaxed as best I could. I focused on my foot strike and my push off, being careful to run as normally as possibly, but without any extra strain on my calf. I decided not to slow down at any aid stations because any change of pace brought a severe twinge of pain.

I imagined senior Aria Blumm running at the state meet, running with the leaders and trying to stay composed, focused on getting to the finish as best she could. I knew she had had a very demanding race, in which she ran her best time ever on her way to third place. Certainly she felt pain of her own, yet she pushed through it.

With one kilometer to go, the course crossed a bridge, which included an incline, adding strain to my calf. I kept my eyes on the road ahead, praying that my calf would rebel no further. I made it up and over, relieved that the gentle downhill to the finish would be manageable.

Upon finishing, I felt relief in being done, but moreover from not having to hitch-hike or ride in an ambulance.

My calf will be sore for some time to come, but perhaps that will serve as a motivator to train more before entering my next race.