Catching the Endurance Bug

When I was a goofy high school wiener back at Seoul Foreign School in South Korea in the late 1980's I found an outlet for myself in running.  There wasn't a lot of that going on at the time there.  We had a cross country team that I ran with, but I don't recall seeing random folks running through the city of Seoul or anything.  Either there were no 5k's or marathons or such or I was conveniently sheltered from that scene being a migook-sadam holed up on a mostly American school compound on the top of a hill.

 Me and some of the guys from the SFS Cross Country Team.  I think this is from 1988.

From my cross country days I had ran several loops on or around the school compound in Yonhi-Dong, and several that went a few miles out into neighboring Dongs and Kus.  Once on a training run during my last year of cross-country I found myself ahead of the rest of the team as I approached the gates of Yonsei University......right as the students were getting ready to clash with the riot police over something like foreign policy, government corruption or maybe just to let out some pent-up steam and throw some rocks and molotov cocktails.  To turn around would have meant a much longer run, so I went for it.....and probably ended up on the Korean news for being the stupid American that threaded his way between molotov cocktail wielding students and cops ready to fire their tear gas grenades.  Coach Fuller was not pleased.

I later branched out looking for longer routes, and was able to convince my folks to let me run home from church on Sundays, which was about a 13 mile course that took me along the newly developed Han River park (which was kind of like a concrete recreational area stretched along the banks of the river that weaved through the city of Seoul).  I remember trying to catch bikers in my Nike Air Huaraches, which were freakin' cool looking shoes back then but probably useless for support.

Eventually I decided to ramp my mileage up into running my own private marathon in a big loop within the city.  I don't know why I never asked my folks if they would let me do a real one the next summer we were in the States, but I guess it never occurred to me to include them in this adventure or trouble them with the burden of supporting me or yanking them to some city that would even have a marathon.  So, I mapped my own out and planned to do it on a weekend.

Now, this was right when spandex shorts had become popular.  The previous summer I had bought a few cheap pair on a trip to the States.  I remember one pair were red with black and white checkers down the sides.  I took them for a spin the day I bought them, running from whatever hotel we were living out of in whatever state we were traveling through at the time.  When I got back I realized the threads had busted in the crotch and my balls were hanging out - for how many miles I ran like that I don't know.  But the run was strangely freeing.

For my Inaugural Seoul Marathon I had chosen a unique pair of spandex shorts I had found that had this weird patch of leather in the crotch.  At the time I had no idea what it was for (and thinking back now it hardly seems like it would have provided any comfort whatsoever on a bicycle either) but it seemed new and cool so I went with it.  I was just a dumb kid. 

The marathon was a flamboyant disaster, and I shuffle-walked the last 10 miles or so in a zombie-like trance just to get it done and be able to say I did it.  And I got a lot of odd looks from the locals.  At the time, an American kid running through downtown Seoul in tight spandex shorts was more than a little odd.  It was far more normal for me to stand there like a good little boy while Korean grannies rubbed my blonde hair saying "eggie epooda!" which I guess was something along the lines of, "what a cute little blonde headed weird looking kid."  But I ran that damn marathon.  I couldn't prove anything and nor did I care to, but I just wanted to own a marathon experience to entertain my own head.  I think, at the time, my parents even thought I was a little weird.  But I liked girls, came home before curfew, and didn't wear makeup so I think they were satisfied.

The leather patch was a horrible choice, as the rough side was the one against my nads which after 26.2 miles looked like they had been pressed against a belt sander.  I bled in the shower like a stuck pig and the hot water felt like I was pouring alcohol on the wound. 

But it was fun!

Anyway, that was my start at endurance sports.  My participation came and went a few times through the college years and into my 30's until I refocused on cycling and finally triathlon, and I may come up with some other avenue before I settle into shuffleboard, golf, or panning for gold.  But that's what got me this far.  Thanks for reading!