Ansan Seawall Marathon

The race course

       My second race for September was on the Ansan Seawall. The weather was going to be nice, 70’s with a breeze and a little cloud cover and the course promised to be pancake flat, it sounded great! Needless to say, I was a bit tired starting this race and more than a little worried about the overuse injuries that are creeping up. I decided to give KT Tape a try on my knee since it is so in vogue. Probably 30% of the Korean runners had KT Tape somewhere on their body, thighs, calves, knees, ankles, shins, necks, etc. I’ve also noticed big circular bruises and finally figured out they are from a practice called “Cupping.” I can’t say for sure if the KT Tape made any difference at all, but it is comforting, like a security blanket for a baby, to feel the contact of the tape on the problem area.

Sporting my KT Tape

       This was definitely my toughest race on the mental aspect. The last two races have been in lovely places with constantly changing scenery. Ansan is pleasant enough to look at, but the view never changes. You can see aid stations half an hour before you get to them so it never seems like they get any closer, and for most of the race we could see the tents at the start/finish. I’m also finding that flat races beat me up way worse than hilly races. With hills, the muscles you use and the way you use your joints changes constantly as does the range of motion used with your joints. Sometimes your quads work harder, sometimes your hamstrings, more hip or more butt, lean forward then lean back. It is always changing and giving a reprieve to the parts that worked hardest a few minutes ago. Throughout the Ansan race, I never felt any acute or specific pain, I was just tight, tired, and week everywhere. I also spent the day in bed with a headache on Saturday. My husband and daughter have both been sick, but I’m guessing I have had it before because my glands were a bit swollen like I was fighting something, but I never came down with it. Knowing I wasn’t up to my best running condition, I planned from the start to take the full 5 hours to finish.

       After about 10 miles, I felt like I had been running forever. The thought of 16 more miles made me feel totally defeated. I kept thinking, “I can’t do this, I can’t keep going for over 3 more hours!” Our course was like starting at the bottom of a “Y” with two turn around points and an opportunity to bail out and skip the second part of the course. It was incredibly tempting! My thoughts were turning into a song from Annie Get Your Gun, “no you can’t, yes I can, no you can’t, yes I can, YES I CAN!” It was brutal and I didn’t think it would get worse, then we turned into the wind.

      About this time I was approached by a runner that I had talked to at the race in Cheorwon the week before. Since less than 10% of the runners at any given race are women, and there are probably 3 of us that are blond, I’m not hard to spot so I constantly get waves and cheers from people that remember me from previous races, I wish I was equally good at recognizing them! This particular runner, Mr. Kim, (not the same Mr. Kim from Yanggu, Kim is like Smith over here, but worse,) was so excited to see me again that he decided to be my pacer. As we passed people, or were passed, he would shout to them that he was my pacer and I had run Cheorwon last week, which would be answered with cheers and encouragement. As lovely as this sounds, I really needed to be in my head for this race. I had forgotten my MP3 player and was bored to death, but didn’t have the mental capacity to both run and try to decipher an extremely heavy Korean accent at the same time. Most of the things he told me had to be repeated 4 or 5 times and I still only caught a few points. I did get that he is 65, but I think he was trying to shame me out of my walking break, LOL.

My elf-appointed "Pace maker"

       Around 16 miles, I told him to go ahead, which got me repeated utterings of, “5 hours in, no out! 5 hours IN, NO OUT!” Okay, okay, I got it, the course closes in 5 hours, (although I know for a fact that the gate is kept open longer because every race has times recorded for at least 45 minutes past the official close time.) He finally went on ahead, which gave me immediate relief from the zipper tabs on his fanny pack that had been keeping up a steady rhythm like a drum beat on the front of my skull. Really, he was so sweet and so interested in making sure I finished the race on time that I can’t hold anything against him, but MERCY he was driving me out of my ever loving mind!

       I managed to keep plodding along up the second leg of the “Y”. Not cutting the course and going back to my car was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done! Not jumping in one of the sweep vans as they passed was only slightly less difficult. There are always a few runners that stand out, the guy with the full beard, the one with the red and blue fake fur headband, or the guy with a Troll wig. I look for them at the turn arounds to see how far I have fallen behind. At one point I passed the guy with the beard as he leaned on a sweep car to finish puking before getting in. I felt bad for him because I can only imagine how hard it is to quit in this high pressure culture.

       Even though it was a very temperate day, I still felt hot and was sucking down a lot of water. The wind was keeping us from being soaked with sweat, but it also carried away a lot more moisture than I realized. My mind doesn’t work all that well when I’m pushing so hard so it takes a while for all the clues to gel into a thought. I was drinking tons of water, but I was so thirsty I felt like I hadn’t had a sip in days. Then I noticed my fingers were swelling. DING DING DING, I needed salt! I took one salt capsule and gave it some time to sink in. My fingers started shrinking and my thirst seemed less intense. A second salt capsule about a mile later brought my fingers back to normal and I finally felt like I was getting fluids where I needed them. It is so odd to think that salt can make you less thirsty, but when your body is shoving fluids into your tissues in order to conserve electrolytes, you can’t use them. Salt allows your body to use the fluids properly.

Race swag!! A huge box of locally
grown grapes that tasted very different,
had skins too thick to chew, and tons of seeds,
but still hit the spot after the race

       The last turn around was at about the 20 mile mark. In my first couple of marathons, hitting 20 miles was where my heart sank. I felt like I could never eek out 6 more miles when I had only gone to 20 on training runs, but now it is totally different. If I can get to 20, I am home free! Just a 10K back to the car and I have another finish. With this in mind, I stubbornly ground out the last few miles to the turn. Just before the turn, I saw an excited Mr. Kim waving at me and pointing at his watch. I’m pretty sure he thought I had thrown in the towel when I sent him ahead so he was shocked to see I was not far behind him. In his enthusiasm to see me finish, he WAITED FOR ME to catch up to him again and we resumed our pattern of running with him telling me to slow down and walking with him telling me “5 hours in, no out.” Now, as we approached each water stop, he would ask, “Rest one minute?” I would say yes and he was run ahead of me to procure a bottle of water to fill my hand bottle so I would keep moving, LOL. There were times that I could hear, from his breathing, that my 10 mpm pace in the last few miles was not easy on him though. I worried that he had lost too much by waiting for me and waiting on me, but I didn’t ask for it.

       3 Kilometers from the finish I passed the 5:00 pacers. I knew as long as I kept them behind me, I was okay! Mr. Kim was happy about passing them too. With 1500 m left I took one last walk break. Finishing 4:55 or 4:57 made no difference to me, if I needed to walk, there was no reason not to. Mr. Kim had had it with my walk breaks though, and went on ahead with a wave. I crossed the line about 30 second behind him and he was waiting there to shake my hand and say, “See you next week in Gapyeon!” I think Korea doesn’t have a Marathon Maniacs club because they expect marathoners to run marathons all the time. It isn’t a weird group of crazies like it is in the US. Korea has a HUGE “100 Marathons” club and it isn’t unusual to meet someone who has run 200 or 300 full marathons. I think they get a kick out of the American woman toeing the line with them over and over.

On to Gapyeon!

Cute medals showing the dutch influence in this lowland area

More race swag, full marathoners
got 10 kilos of rice, half marathoers got
5 kilos, and 5 K runners got a box of seaweed

The rice was delivered to our club ahead
 of time, poor Sun had to keep
 it until each runner could pick it up!

9th Cheorwon DMZ International Peace Marathon

How often do you get to play on tanks!

The newest tank in our showroom....

         Sunday, September 9th, I found myself loading up on the Seoul Flyers bus once again to head to the DMZ for a race. This time we were running in the Cheorwon area, which I have visited before to see the various tourist sites associated with the Demilitarized Zone. On a typical tour, you visit one of the infiltration tunnels, the Join Security Area (JSA), and an observation platform where you can look at the mountains and an industrial complex in North Korea.

       Despite the very informative tour I took last year, I have learned far more about the DMZ from running in it. In Cheorwon, the rice fields are rich and productive, the farmers that lived in that area when the boundaries were drawn certainly did not want to give up their land that had been passed down for generations. In response to this, a system was set up allowing some people to live inside the DMZ to farm. They live under different rules, with curfews and tax breaks, and under threat since incidences of abduction by the North Koreans have happened. (DMZ Abductions) It seems to be worth it though, since the fields were bursting with heavy heads of rice.

       The usual daytime fireworks announced the start of the Full Marathon. It was a gorgeous day, cool and clear with a light cloud cover, and everyone was in a great mood. The late pack runners trotted on our way as the front runners tore off at a blistering pace. The scenery was typical for Korea, rice fields, small towns and businesses, but ss we approached the imposing gate that marked the entrance to the DMZ, a gutted shell of a large square, ugly building was pointed out to me by a runner keeping pace with me. The building had been the offices for the Communist Party before the war, and now stands gaunt and silent as a reminder of the ugliness that area endured.

There always has to be
 something that is not quite right, LOL

       Cherwon is not as secluded as the area we ran in for Yanggu, it is open to farmers and tourists by permit, but all are carefully watched and accounted for. As we ran through the gate, there were several soldiers with clipboards checking off our numbers as we entered. Their counter parts would later be standing at the exit gate with similar clipboards, making sure no one was left unaccounted for! The small bridges we crossed where what really told you this is the DMZ, high cement fortifications with gun slits and catwalks lined every bridge over even the smallest creek.

Photo by Kerrie Matthee

       Inside the DMZ the rice fields were a beautiful lemon yellow with the heavy heads of ripening rice bowing as they turn from vivid green to a rich gold. It was beautiful in a totally different way from the forest road we race two weeks ago. The beauty, diversity, and vibrant life inside the DMZ never cease to amaze me! Our running route took us through the parking lots of the places I had visited on our group tour the year before, but we passed quickly without stops to spy on North Korea or shop in the souvenir stores. Although the DMZ is brutal and ugly in the dead of winter, this time of year it is a cheerful place and a very fun aspect of this race is the groups of 30-50 young soldiers that would come out to line the road on both sides and loudly cheer for the runners. We could run down the line and get Hi-5s and bright smiles from the boys in uniform. In South Korea, every young man must serve at least 2 years in the military, so the ranks are packed with 18-20 old boys that hardly need to shave yet. As I raced by, slapping outstretched hands, it occurred to me that I am likely the same age as most of their mothers.

       Race support was wonderful, as always, with plenty of water stops full of smiling, giggling, and cheering teenage girls who elbow and tease each other over their attempts to practice English with the winded runners stopping to gulp the drinks being offered. Shouts of, “Where are you from,” rung out at nearly every aid station. I usually answer with California because they all know where that is and many have been there, this is followed by whoops and gales of laughter.

        My race this time was a constant head game. It seemed like every 10 kilometers something different hurt. It started with my knee smarting in the first few miles. Immediately I was panicked knowing if it hurt already, I would never make it to the finish line. I quietly prayed, thanking God for allowing me to come so far, knowing that every mile is a gift and that it was not the end of the world if I had to quit the race. Amazingly, as I approached the 10K mark, it stopped bothering me. Shortly after that, I felt a sharp pain in my left foot. ARG! Another conversation with God, more walking breaks, a stop to stretch, and a salt capsule because it felt like a tiny muscle in my arch might be cramping. Although it stayed a bit tender for the remainder of the run, by the halfway mark, the pain had resolved and I was able to keep running. Next, my hamstring started to feel very tight and hurt, “really?” I also felt way too tired, having stayed up too late the night before and not eaten as well as I should. My heart rate was fine though, so I knew it was mostly in my head and I just needed to find my mojo and get back to business.



You can tell I'm tired, my arms aren't all the way up!
Photo by Carrie Matthee



       The last 10K my spirits rose measurably, but my body slowed. The whole race had been a mental battle, and it wasn’t over yet. Glancing at my Garmin I realized my pace was about a minute per mile slower than it felt. At the start, the pacers were all hanging out together, and as they spread out I started to pace with the 4:40 balloons. Realizing what I was doing, I reminded myself that I needed to run my own race and if my body was up to a 4:40 finish I would catch them later. As long as I stayed ahead of the 5:00 balloon, I would be fine (5 hours being the cut off). Around the half way mark I caught up to the 4:40 pacers at an aid station just past the observation platform. There were three of them and the last one was kidding with me, admonishing me to stay ahead of him, which didn’t look too tough since he didn’t look like he was going to finish 4:40 either. I was trying to work my way ahead of them a bit, which resulted in me being hit in the face several times by the balloon, so I finally gave up and just let them go while I took my time at a water stop that was serving Gatorade.

       We had been running up a gentle grade for quite a while, one of those never ending hills that looks bad from a distance, but is actually very runnable once you get on it. I was worried about going downhill, since that was my undoing at Yanggu, but it was just as gentle as well. My splits are pretty funny, even when mashed up by looking at each quarter of the race or every two miles. I had a rough patch around mile 20, but picked it up form some excellent splits in the last few miles even though, by then, I felt like I was running through tar!

      As I rounded the last corner, about 100 feet from the finish line, I passed the 4:40! Well, at least 2 of them, the guy that had been ribbing me to stay ahead of him was way back in the pack now. I think he was training to be a pacer, since he didn’t have a balloon, and it was harder than he expected.

       After the race we collected our snacks and made one last stop to play on the tanks. Korea race swag rocks! Instead of another race shirt to cram in my drawer, I got a box of energy drinks and 3 kilos of rice grown in the area. I had some for dinner last night and it was very good!



Awesome race swag!





Post race collapse



       My official finish time was 4:36:57! A new PR to be sure, but I feel like Yanggu was still a much better effort since it was hotter and steeper. I have no intention of maintaining this streak through my next two marathons. I need to save my energy next weekend on the Seawall for the following weekend which will be a very mountainous race, but then, I never expected to either of my last two races so fast either!

Maps and full Garmin Connect report

A view of North Korea from across the river

9th Yanggu DMZ Marathon, South Korea

     
        The 9th Yanggu DMZ marathon was amazing! The Northern border area is a stunningly beautiful part of South Korea with crystal clear babbling streams, thick forests, and clear air. I was really looking forward to this marathon, but I was also worried about the 5 hour cut off. It was hilly, and hot, and I really had not put in much mileage since China. On the up side, I have been working hard in CrossFit, building strength and balancing my muscles that have become a bit lopsided from years of running and neglect of my non-running muscles.

Maniacs in the DMZ!

       I knew we would be close to the DMZ, but I didn’t expect to run IN the DMZ. Our start and finish was at a military installation with a big imposing gate and loads of barbed wire. The first half of the marathon took us out and back on rolling hills so the first quarter of the race was mostly downhill, second quarter was mostly uphill. The second half of the race was another out and back in the opposite direction, past the gate into the DMZ proper. With 60 years to heal, this once war torn area has become a wild life sanctuary, pristine and untouched since the war. Other than a few service roads, most of it is wild and free from Man. The gravel service road we were on had a low barbed wire fence on either side with little red signs that said, “MINE” in Korean and English, to remind us not to leave the road, GULP! However, the danger lurking outside the wire was quickly forgotten in the beauty of the place.

Look Ma'! No hands!

       I had pressed hard for the first half of the race, knowing the second half would be more challenging. As I chugged up a hill during the second half, I was joined by a Korean runner who spoke excellent English and knew many of the runners in my club. He kept me entertained through those grueling “teen” miles between half way and the 20 mile mark. Mr.Kim was running his 310th marathon and pointed out many runners in shirts from his 100 Marathon club, telling me their stories. Koreans are such amazing runners! He was the one that explained to me that we were in an area that is only accessible by military the rest of the year. He also pointed out his older sister who was a few hundred yards ahead of us. She is training for a coast to coast race across Korea that will exceed 300 kilometers! Following his sister’s lead, I discovered adding a few butt-kicks makes your quads feel much better on the downhills.

       Things were going well at the half way mark, but I was hitting the low part of the marathon. I passed 13.1 at about 2:09 into the race, and looked at the turn into the finish area with more longing than I should have for someone with 13.1 miles left to go. Fortunately, as the scenery changed from beautiful to amazing, my spirits lifted. Reaching the second turn around at mile 20, I started realizing I had a shot at a PR! My pace wasn’t great as it had taken me 3:40 or so to get to mile 20, but I was expecting to be much farther behind at this point and the last 10K would be mostly downhill! I was feeling good (the wheels were wobbling, but not falling off yet,) and the heat wasn’t too bad (I would later learn that the average temperature was 90F!) I just had to keep moving at a steady pace.

       Plummeting down the first hill I heard Mr. Kim behind me say, “Too fast! You are going too fast!” I didn’t care though. I was in it to win it (against myself ) at this point and wanted to make up some time! I waved goodbye to him and his sister when they made a restroom stop and continued on. The runners around me had become familiar; that guy with the blue shirt here, and the camouflage shirt there, we had all passed each other a dozen times as we leapfrogged down the course. I set myself to picking them off once and for all.

       The last 10K had the markers in reverse order. 10K, 9K, 8k, each sandwich board giving me a little more hope for a PR. With 3 miles left to go, the wheels started to fall off . I was just so tired. I hadn’t gotten enough gels down, but the thought of another gagged me. I was tanked up on salt and fluids, but my energy was sapped and the heat was getting opressive as the sun began burning through the clouds. I kept pressing forward though, picking arbitrary things for the next walk break, end of a hill, a tree, a fence post, anything to keep moving.

       With less than one kilometer to go, I felt something in my knee that was not good. I immediately dropped to a walk and the pain stopped. A few tentative running steps seemed okay, so I picked it up again. The knee stayed sore, but not painful, worrisome, but not a show stopper. Fortunately, at that point I could have walked the rest of the way and still managed a PR. Shuffling along I turned the last corner expecting to take another walk break. I had made a deal with myself to run to the end of the guardrail, but when I turned the corner I could see a crowd of people at the turn to the finish line. No way was I walking in front of my entire club! I flew by with my arms in the air yelling, “How do you spell PR!!!!” As I rounded the corner and the finish line came into view, I heard a roar from where my clubs tent was set up, the rest of the group that had been hanging out since they finished their 5k, 10K, and half marathons, were all excited to see their last runner come in. It was so amazing to have such a huge group of people cheering for me!

Yea for strength training,
finally a finish photo where I don't look knock kneed!

       We loaded up the bus for the long, traffic clogged, trip back to Seoul. As miserable as bus rides can be, a bus filled with a happy group of runners is a wonderful thing. Our club calls itself a running club without boarders and there were 15 different countries represented onboard!

       Epilogue: 5 days after my marathon PR, my knee was much better so I ran a 5K on base. As usual, I wasn’t expecting much since I was still tired from the marathon and, although it was cooler, it was still around 75F and muggy at the start. I did not look at my pace, only checking my heart rate on occasion and running by feel. When I got within sight of the clock I was shocked to see 24 minutes still ticking away! My finish time was 24:37, a 5K PR!

4th Korea Adventure Race

       When my running club posted the information for this race, I was mostly interested because I wanted to keep adding to my marathon tally. Running at night sounded like a pretty good idea in the summer heat, and the course was along the Han River where I have raced many times before. Mostly it was a marathon in July so I could check that box and start my “marathon per month” quest that I was contemplating at the time. It would be familiar territory with a new twist: night running. The course was also open from the start of the marathon at 8pm, through the start of the 50K at 11pm, and on until way past dawn with the planed closing time of 7am. A race with no time pressure sounded particularly nice when the low temperatures would be near 80F.

       Although I was tempted by the 50K, the decision was ultimately made based on the start time. I ran through the night 2 years ago in the 24-Hour relay so I knew the wee hours would be lonely and boring. I also know I’m fairly worthless after 9pm and would be counted among the walking dead once midnight passed. It seemed better to be nearing the end when the witching hour struck, and not just an hour into the race! The few member of the club that had decided to run, kept up a joking facebook thread about our fears of zombies and things that go bump in the dark, laughing at ourselves and our silly fears.


The sun setting on the Han River. You can see the bike and walking path and big street lights


       It turned out we were afraid for nothing. With night time temps not dipping much below 80F, people living in apartments without air-conditioning try to escape to the river for a breath of fresh air. The entire river walk was teaming with people the entire time! The whole way was well lit and overrun with families, young lovers, cyclists, picnickers, partiers, and sports enthusiast. One moment I would be passing a game of basketball, the next a family asleep in a screen tent. In most cases, the activity was set up under the many bridges that span the river, offering protection from the sudden cloud bursts, like the one that soaked us to the skin in the first few miles.

       There were three of us that toed the start line for the 42.195K (seriously, that is what our bibs said, LOL.) The other two women weren’t fully trained for marathon distance and had never gone past a half, but since the cut off time was so generous, they knew they could finish walking and get the experience under their belts. Cate, Rebecca, and I took off in high spirits, chatting and laughing as we headed down the lighted path. We lost Rebecca first as she slowly drifted behind, but we did see her shortly after the first turn around and she looked strong. (MAP)

Cate, Andy (who came to help us with packet pick-up), Rebecca, and Moi

       I realized after a couple of miles that we were on the same stretch of river front from the half marathon back in March. This meant one thing, a booger of a hill! That monster hill, loomed out of the dark leading us along the freeway with nothing but a chain link fence between us and the roaring traffic. Ultimately, the exhaust fumes weren’t too bad and we decided to walk the uphill and save our energy for the very long miles ahead. In hindsight, it wasn’t as bad as I remembered, but it still wasn’t pretty!

Okay, this is where we are going...

       Past the turn around and over the hill again we were looking for our first bridge crossing to take us to the other side of the river. Thankfully, I had studied the map because running had moved us faster than the race coordinators had expected and the volunteer that was supposed to direct us to the turn was not on station yet! When we had gone about 1/10 of a mile past the bridge, I knew we had missed something so we doubled back. Sure enough, he was there this time and shocked that we had gotten past him! Now, back on track, we climbed the stairs and crossed the first bridge.

       With 12 bridges, passing each twice, we were averaging about a bridge per mile. It was like chasing an oasis. The bridges would loom in the distance, seeming to never get closer and then suddenly we were passing under it. Most of the time they were hotbeds of activity, sports, family, and at one place even a live band with scores of people dancing! It was so surreal and not at all what I was expecting from the evening. I had imagined something like the Blair Witch Project and being spooked, but I never felt alone or isolated, even after I lost my buddy somewhere around mile 16. My biggest real worry was not getting hit by a speeding bicycle! Although I never really needed the head lamp to see my path I was glad for both my lights, front and back, for making me visible to the cyclists!

       What made this an “adventure” race was more than just the fact that it was run in the dark. The second aspect was that there were no aid stations. There were public restrooms and fountains where we could get water, although often they were too shallow to actually get water into my Camelbak. Never the less, I was able to refill often enough that I never ran out of water despite going through what seemed like gallons! When my calves started cramping a couple of hours in, despite 2 salt caps and 3 gels already down the hatch, I realized I was going through a LOT of fluids. Popping 2 more salt caps took care of the problem and even though I had twinges the whole race, my calves finally loosened back up and never fully cramped. The heat was not intense, but it just slowly sucked the life out of you as the sweat gushed from every pore.

The race map. I used my phone to take a picture
that was worth more than 1,000 words!

       Shortly after Cate dropped behind I started getting a headache and the gels were no longer setting well. I did not manage my prerace fuel very effectively and my digestive system was balking. I don’t think it was a hydration issues since a couple of bathroom stops assured me that all was well in that arena, but the late hour was getting to me. On a normal night, staying up late just plain hurts and tonight was no exception. I had tried taking a nap in the afternoon, but never really slept so as 11pm slipped by, I was really starting to drag. By midnight, I had barely hit the 20 mile mark! This was not good!

       Fortunately, I was almost to the second bridge wich was easy since it was over a smaller bridge underneath the big freeway bridge far overhead. Over the hump I trudged, dodging bicycles and people walking and texting at the same time. As I turned right to head down the river again, the park was as busy as ever. Spotting a water fountain with a spigot on the side I jumped at the chance to fill my pack one more time, knowing it would last to the end. As I approached the fountain, which was in a less lit area, I sunk to my ankles in mud. The fountain leaked and the whole area around it was a bog of slime. It is moments like these that I am so happy to be a barefoot runner! I don’t mind mud on my feet, but it surely would have ruined a pair of shoes, or help the captive! After filling my Camelbak and squishing my way back to the path it was time to hunker down and get the hardest part done, the last 10K.

       When I first joined Marathon Maniacs, I posted a question to the group, asking if marathons ever got easy or comfortable. The general consensus was no, everyone hurts after 20 miles, it is just a matter of who is tough enough to keep going. Was I tough enough? I was fine after 20 in China, but I had done a LOT of walking in the early miles. My history was of the wheels falling off at 20 and giving in to the death march. This time wasn’t a whole lot better, but nothing specifically hurt, my blood sugars were fine, and I was hydrated. There was no real reason for me not to be running, so I pressed on. I had an MP3 player tucked in my pack, but it wasn’t appealing to me. Instead I decided to pass some time with an age old favorite, “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” No, I didn’t sing out loud, but it took a lot of concentration to keep track and not forget what number I was on and this focus got me through 3 more miles.

       I took a walk break at “49 bottles”, but when I hit zero, I decided to keep going to the next bridge. I could count 10 lamp posts to the next bridge and it was 10 breaths per lamp post, counting, counting, one foot in front of the other. I told myself I could walk under the next bridge, but with the one after clearly in sight, I pressed on with the promise of walking under THAT one instead, then on to the Olympic Stadium.

       Finally, coming up on 1:20 am, I turned the corner to enter the finish chute which was totally empty with no one along the ropes. I went under the arch and strolled across the grass to the tables to pick up my finishers medal. The two twenty-something girls hopped up and down clapping and telling me I was the first woman to finish. HUH? I had actually entertained a vain idea about that since I didn’t see any women ahead of me at the turn around, but I didn’t really think it could happen. No one really cared about the marathon though, it was all about the 50K that was now more than half over for the future winners, so I got a hand shake, a pat on the head, and a bowl of tofu for my win.

       After a bit of rest and some food, I piled back into my truck to head home. I was still high on Chocolate Outrage GU so a nap was out of the question, better to just get home before the caffeine wore off.

In the end, it wasn’t really all that adventurous, but I learned a few things.

1) When they say never wear something new on race day, THEY MEAN IT! My nifty new black tank rubbed me raw on the underside of my arms. The chafing was so bad, by the time I got home they were huge, raised, swollen welts that still sting two days later.

2) Running after dark is not fun for me. I’m tired, cranky, annoyed, and just want to go to bed. I don’t foresee any more night marathons in the future unless there is a really good carrot to go with it!

3) Carrying a 70 oz. of water not only gives you huge bruises on your shoulders, it also throws off your posture making your back and neck ache. I’ve worn it for trail running, but flat road running is not the same.

4) 80F at night is still 80F, hot is hot and dark doesn’t help that much, other than not having to wear sunscreen.


     Now that the dust has settled and my chafing wounds are nearly healed, I’m glad I did it. I know now that running a marathon barefoot wasn’t a fluke, I can do it and I recover better than when I wear shoes just like with half marathons. I won’t always get to marathon barefoot because I wear shoes if I don’t know the road conditions, but I will go bare any time I can!

Namsan Hot Summer Marathon

Namsan Hot Summer Marathon

       My 6th half marathon in 4 months, I can’t believe it! This makes me a “2 Moon Half Fanatic” which is fun.

The cheer squad waiting for the first runners
(Photo by Jaqueline Bartocha)

       It was a wonderful fun race day, which is good since it was a grueling course. It consisted of out and backs over a 3k long path over an undulating mountain. There were water stops at either end, and nice bathrooms with fountains that turned into filled buckets with giant ladles you could dump over yourself, or a granny with a hose ready, willing, and able to completely soak you from head to toe and fill your shoes. About one kilometer into the course the Seoul Flyers running club members, that had the good sense NOT to enter this race, set up a support stop to cheer on the runners and give us extra water, Gatorade, and gels. It was awesome to have such great support and hear people get excited each time I passed. They had megaphones and cameras, and I spotted one dedicated Flyer schlepping pairs of 8 liter jugs back and forth to the nearest water tap several times.

Go Seoul Flyers!!
(Photo by Jaqueline Bartocha)

       Unfortunately, the race didn’t go as well as I had hoped it would. Taking off at the start, my legs instantly felt like they were on fire from a hard effort with no warm up. I couldn’t explain it since I was still in the slow shuffle of the start, waiting patiently for the crowd to thin out enough to actually run. It really felt like I simply wasn’t getting any oxygen to my legs. Maybe my blood pressure was down from the heat or something, I don’t know, but I knew it didn’t bode well for my finish time. Thinking my calf compression sleeves could be too tight, I stopped and pulled them down around my ankles. It didn’t help and not long after I stopped to pull them back up again. Still no help or change, it was going to be a really long 13.1 miles.

       It was hot, but most of the course was shaded so at least we weren’t being cooked by the sun. I had decided before hand to wear my Merrell Trail Gloves since I was sure the road would be miserably hot by at least half way through the race. It was probably a good decision, although I think I could have managed with the amount of shade we had. Oh well, too late now!

( Garmin connect record of the event and elevation profile)

       I was determined not to talk a walking break during the first loop, but the hills were way more steep than I had anticipated. A friend had posted his elevation profile a week or so before from running the race route and the difference in height between the tops and bottoms of the hills didn’t look all that bad. The reality of it though, to quote another friend, was that it was like running up and down a 5 story building. I would love to know exactly how far we ran if you measured it out with a marking wheel instead of GPS!

       As I approached the end of the first out and back, I passed the Flyers and yelled, “What the h**l was I thinking!” This got a hearty laugh from the group. They all live in Seoul and have run this mountain before. They knew exactly what the race entailed, which is why they were cheering and not running!



Mugging for the camera
(Photo by Jaqueline Bartocha)



       By the end of my second out and back, I was really beginning to think this would be a 3 hour half marathon for me. I was a total mess. Thanks to lots of water on the course, I was drenched from head to toe, my shoes were squishing, and my skirt was so water logged it weighed several pounds and was falling off. Every few minutes I would have to hike it back up again to keep from mooning everyone behind me. There was no way to know where I was in the pack because people were an various laps. With the exception of the fast marathon runners that would whip past me every so often, the rest were alternating between a fast downhill trot and a slow death march up the next incline. People constantly passed and were passed and I rarely seemed to see the same runner twice. My course calculation skills were gone and there were runners and hikers everywhere, it all just seemed like a big blur.

       Along the way, I would alternate between downhill, “I can do this, let’s get it over with” and half way up the next hill, “Oh, forget it, I don’t care anymore.” I think the only thing that kept me from not plopping down at the cheering station and quitting was the fact that this was the race that would give me my second “moon” in the half fanatic standings. Sometimes, the refusal to quit is the only thing that keeps you going. By mile 10, my left calf decided to try cramping. I immediately popped two Salt Stick capsules and downed the last of my water bottle, hoping my next chance to refill would arrive soon! It seemed to work. Although my calf continued to twinge, it never fully cramped.

       Finishing up the third lap, I was actually feeling a bit better, or at least a bit less despondent. I had 2 miles left to go and the Flyers were still out cheering (more than once I have finished a race so late that they were all gone.) By this time, pounding down the hills was really getting hard. My right ankle, where I had the stress fracture 2 years ago, was hurting and worrying me. The last thing I need right now is another stress fracture! Downhill trots became a lopsided hobble, landing on my heel on the left to protect my twingeing calf, and on the ball of my foot on the right to protect my hurting ankle. Once I hit the turn around that marked the partial lap for the half marathoners, I breathed a sigh of relief. Just one more mile!

(Photo by Sarah Gu)

       Passing the Flyers one last time I paused for a drink and Jacqueline snapped this shot of a very weary runner. I thanked them and pressed on for my last half mile. As is started the last lap I was happy to note that I could probably finish sub-2:40. Then, as I reached the last leg back, I realized that a good finish kick could put me in sub-2:30! I don’t know why I play these silly head games, it makes no difference to anyone, anywhere, but me if I finish 2:40 or 2:30, but it gave me a reason to pour it on at the end. I chugged up the last hill, breathing like a steam engine on its last gasp of coal, hobbling with an uneven rhythm. The clock said 2:30, but I knew it took me a minute or so to get to the start mats and my Garmin seemed to agree.

       Crossing the finish I headed straight to the bathroom (apparently I was well hydrated) and started wandering around looking for all the stops I needed to make. 1) Retrieve back pack from bag check. 2) Find the amazing food everyone was carrying around. Chilled watermelon and cucumber soup, hot bibimbap (my favorite!) and big vats of makgoli, a Korean fermented rice drink. 3) Get my printed certificate, (YES! 2:29:54!) 4) Turn in my chip in exchange for my medal. 5) And last, walk back to the cheer station to join the Flyers in celebrating the finishes for our two runners in the Full marathon. This was not necessarily the order that the stations were meant to be progressed through, but my fried brain did its best and I got to everything eventually.



Runners and cheerers
(Photo by Sarah Gu)



Photo by Happy Leports

       I did see one man being accompanied across the finish line by his entire club, their banner, and bouquets of flowers. It was his 200th or 300th marathon, either way they were celebrating big time! He would make a very good Marathon Maniac!

       Festivities over, pictures taken, and car packed up, I headed home for a shower and nap. It really was a great race. The hardest runs, the ones that really put you to the test and make you leave everything on the course, are the best no matter how well or poorly you feel you did. It wasn’t my best race, and it wasn’t necessarily my hardest race, but it was definitely one of my most challenging races and I will cherish my memories and medal.



Honored to be part of this picture! From the left, Michael Dal Cero (6th place full), Michael Strata, Sara Maltby (first place for the women), Adeel Ahmad, James Bates, ME, Suntae Bae (who carried that flag the entire race) and Uriah Orland (6th place half). All amazing runners with amazing finish times.
(Photo by Jiwah Woo)



2012 Gangneung Gyungpo Marathon (Half)

2012 Gangneung Gyungpo Marathon




       What a fun weekend! This was my first overnight trip with my running club in Seoul. We chartered a bus and headed out early Saturday morning for the East Coast of Korea to participate in the half marathon, 10K and 5K.



View from our hotel room



       Arriving at the beach on Saturday afternoon, we were greeted by a cool, but beautiful landscape. The water was typical Pacific iciness, but that didn’t slow down the water enthusiasts. In smaller groups, we swam, ran, hit the restaurants, and relaxed before retiring for the evening.



Ice bath after a nice 3 mile run



       Sunday morning dawned cool and over cast, perfect for running! Several of us shunned our hats and even sunscreen, a mistake that would catch up with us later. Although it looked and even felt cool with the breeze, it was much warmer than it appeared and when the sun finally broke through the clouds, it warmed up sharply! The tail wind we didn’t notice on the way out was very apparent on the return trip, slowing even the best runners to a pace below what they had hoped for.



I swear this wasn't planned



       When I registered for this race, I had hoped for a PR. Then we decided to spend the early part of the week at Disneyland. 8 hour days on your feet does not make for a good taper, let alone getting up early and spending the day before on a bus and sleeping on a rock hard bed (Korean mattresses are little better than sleeping on the floor.) Over eating on the road didn’t help either, so by Sunday morning, I was definitely not feeling fast.

       The course was beautiful though. With lots of friends along the way, waves crashing, and lovely scenery, a PR wasn’t necessary to have a good time. On the second half, we were running into a stiff breeze and I was beginning to feel my too fast start. At one point, I felt like I was working at a 5K effort, but not going anywhere. My Garmin confirmed my pace was a full minute per mile slower than I wanted to be moving. Ugh, it was a struggle to maintain my pace and keep moving.



I love the reactions when people realize I'm running without shoes



       I was very glad to see the finish line and my husband, camera in hand, snapping away. My finish time, 2:06:49 was actually a PR for the year at least, 6 whole seconds faster than the Seoul Open back in March. This was my 5th half marathon in as many months, so I was happy to have improved.



I'm back there somewhere



Get back on the bus!!!



       After the race was another splash in the ocean followed by quick showers before checking out the hotel, grabbing lunch, and getting back on the bus with 40+ exhausted, but exhilarated and slightly inebriated, runners for the ride back to Seoul. It was a great time which I hope to repeat at least once more before we have to leave Asia.



Restocking the bus



Lessons Learned:

1) Never underestimate time on your feet, especially if you aren’t used to it. Days spend walking and standing in line will wear you out as much as high mileage runs.

2) Clouds are not sunscreen (I know this, but apparently have to relearn it every so often.)

3) Weather changes, it may be cool and lovely at the race start, but that doesn’t mean the sun won’t come out with a vengeance half way through the race.

4) A bad run with friends is still better than a good run alone!

Body Changes Through Running

       There are lots of pictures on the internet of people who have taken up exercise or running and had dramatic weight loss. They first show an obese person, often at a table or in front of a TV looking fat and miserable. Next they show their new self, a smiling, strong, much smaller in girth, fitter person. The pounds lost are anywhere from 20-30 to hundreds. I am blown away by these people. To change so much of your life, so many deeply ingrained habits, often without the support of the people around them, is amazing to me in so many ways.


      When I started running, I wasn’t particularly over weight. I was flabby and had a much higher percent of body fat than I appeared, but I wasn’t shopping in the plus size section yet. I controlled my weight with relatively healthy eating in small quantities, and once in a while I took a stab at exercise. When I started running, my mother said, “You will love it, weight will just fall off of you.” It didn’t. Matter of fact, the more I ran, the hungrier I was! A mile only burns around 100 calories whether you run it or walk it and when your runs are only 2 or so miles long, it doesn’t take much to consume what you burned.

       Over the last 5 years I have not seen a significant change in my weight. I did manage to lose the 10 or so pounds I had gained while living in Germany, but that just brought me back to my basic set point, the same weight that I have weighed for the majority of my adult life, which is about 30 pounds less than I weighed during the latter part of my teen years.

       For the most part, I have given up on the whole weight loss thing. I have tempered the unrealistic ideas that were formed while growing up in Southern California and my focus has shifted to being healthy and strong. Mind you, I do still watch my weight, get on the scale daily, and eat healthy, but I know I’m not likely to ever lost the 10-15 pounds that my upbringing tells me I should. I am at peace with my body in a lot of ways. Sure, there are a few places I’d still like to change and I would LOVE not to have to use anti-chaffing products on my inner thighs, but I know that the numbers on the scale do not mean much compared to how far I have come in general health, strength, and endurance.

       Then my picture from the Great Wall Marathon arrived in the mail. I dutifully put it in a frame and set it next to my half marathon photo from OBX 2 ½ years ago. When I looked at them side by side, I was shocked! For the first time in 5 years I could see the changes! In the past when my weight has dipped down, I could never see it. I looked the same to myself in the mirror even when the body I was looking at was 40lbs lighter than the image in my head, so for me to be able to see a change through that mental screen is startling.




November 2009 to May 2012 weight in both pictures: #134

     The change isn't dramatic, you have to look pretty close to see it, and I still don’t like my body all the time. Being raised by a father who always thought I was too fat is still part of my thinking and is something in my head that I have to work on. I will probably never be totaly satisfied with how I look, but I am increasingly satisfied with how I feel and my control over RA, THAT is what is truly important. Maybe with the increase is strength training I'm doing, I will have a third picture to add in a couple of years! What I hope I can impress upon people is that change in our bodies takes a lot of time and patients, but it is worth it.