Hwacheon Peace Marathon

Hwacheon is a beautiful forest area, somewhere near the North Korean border.

The course was mostly on the main road of the town. They didn't close the roads off completely, so sometimes cars would be allowed through and would drive past us.

The first leg of the marathon slowly climbs up the base of a mountain. There is probably about 8-10 km where we were gradually climbing. At the half-way point of the marathon, we turned around and ran back to the start, using a slightly different path.


The first half was fine. The second half was like I was in my own hell.

It was really terrible. If this were my first marathon, I'd probably be inclined to not do it again.

Here were some things that contributed to making me so miserable:


1. It was really hot, and there was no shade.
2. The hill.
3. I was recovering from a cold.

Number 3 was probably the largest factor in my misery.

Looking back at it now, with several days past, it doesn't seem as bad. I know I've forgotten it just how awful it was, and my mind is drawn to some of the more fond memories of that day, such as meeting some cool people in the expatriate running club I joined.

For the first 12 kilometers I ran alongside a guy named Chris. He's one of the few foreigners here that's neither in the military or an English teacher. He's a reporter, who focuses specifically on North Korean issues.

He's had lots of prior marathoning experience, so I decided it would be wise to run with him.

He told me from the beginning that he'd just go at my pace. He wore a watch, and every kilometer sign we passed, he would announce our time. I imagined that he was judging me a little bit, so I tried to speed up a little bit.

We finished 5k in about 26 minutes, five minutes faster than my first 5k in my last marathon. So I accidently ran faster to try to impress my new friend. I'm sure that it affected me later on.

He peeled off for a pee break at about 12k, and told me he'd catch up later. And catch up he did, but not until the final 5k.

I on the other hand did not pee. I had the urge to pee at the beginning of the race, but I didn't do it. After a while, I didn't have to pee anymore. When the race was over, and I drank a bunch of water and gatorade, I still didn't have to pee. It wasn't until the 5 hour bus-ride was over that I finally peed.

I sweated like a Korean taking an English exam. My entire body was covered in a layer of my own salt.

In the last 8k stretch, we ironically ran next to a river. For some reason this is the stretch that was most stingy with the water/wet sponge stations, or maybe that's just how I perceived it.

It was also the stretch that had the least shade (being none at all). It was between 12 and 1 PM when I was running this part. I think it was nearly 90 degrees. It shouldn't have been exceptionally hot for a Tucson bred man such as myself, but yet it was. It was probably because I'd been running for 3 hours already.

My pace slowed down considerably here. This is where Chris caught up to me at a water station. He started walking, and so I did too. "One on, one off," he said. Meaning we'd walk for a kilometer and then run for one. "It's about as effective as running really really slowly anyway, and it keeps your body temperature down."

I guess my body was about to overheat or something, because I felt much better when I started walking.

Chris checked his watch. "You can still PB (personal best) if you put your ass in gear."

So I reluctantly started running. As soon as I thought that I was out of Chris's sight, I walked again for a little while, and then ran/walk to the end, where our group cheered my on for the victory lap around the stadium.

I didn't PB: I missed my previous time by about 2 minutes. Not bad, considering the conditions.

A pregnant lady fetched my complimentary finisher's medal and snacks for me, as she was clearly in better condition to do so than I was.

Since Chris and I were the only ones stupid enough to run the full course today, once he finished we got on the bus and had a 5-hour bus ride back into Seoul.

Something to note about this bus that we privately chartered: it's a nore-bang bus (karaoke bus), complete with TV and microphone. We sang songs on the way back. Or rather, I listened and tried to pretend I was asleep or in too much misery whenever they elected a new singer. Usually I'm all over karaoke, but at this time, I actually was too miserable to sing.

Another interesting thing is that is not even the first nore-bang bus that I've been on. I think it's standard for buses in Korea to be equipped with karaoke equipment.