Hanguk Trail Running: Personal Story Pt. 2

 Han River:

    I have always loved the Han River.

    The river may be indifferent to me but I am very much partial to it. It was my only companion during my last heart break. The first light would break through the tall buildings of Banpo and Gangnam. It burned blood-red, as if it were mirroring my wound. Still fresh and blisteringly raw to exposure. The autumn winds eventually gave way to the sharp gusts of winter. The sun rose later and darker shifting to a deep blue-purple hue--like a bruise. I was healing but even the faintest of contact would bring the pain back to the surface. In the heart of winter, I was running in the dark. And that is how my life felt then--colorless. 

    I love running by the Han River in the harshest of conditions. No one is out there and you can have the whole river to yourself. The monsoon season does not just bring rain--it awakes the river. Turning its clear calm waters into a dark murky force that claims everything in its path, even shutting down expressways. The quiet waters we often enjoy while out on an evening stroll is not its true form. Only in the storm can you witness it--its annual roaring stampede. 

    Most of the river is abandoned in the early hours when temperatures drop below -10 degrees Celsius. Even the animals take refuge. Complete and utter solitude. The winds will leave your clothes stiff from the sweat. The stark contrast to the summer days is constantly felt. The trees stand bare. The leaf litter collect on the trunks unable to return to the earth. The ground is frozen dry and hard--you could not scratch off a grain of sand from it. You cannot help but begin humming the theme song from the film Rocky--"Gonna Fly now"--as you run along. Trust me when I say: The warm shower after that run is something no amount of money can buy. Coworkers often asked me, "Are you wearing lip gloss?" No, my lips are just raw from my the cold.

    Spring is just perfect. Many are out and about even at the earliest of hours. That pleasant scent of spring is all around. The weather is ideal for running: Warm and dry. The flawless conditions almost pale the experience, leaving it unimpressionable. 

    The sweltering summer days bring joy--I actually have a smile on my face! The heat is relentless, like a rice cooker--humid and suffocating. Sweat pours down but it cannot evaporate into the already dense air. So it just clings to your clothes. That opaque air is heavy to breathe in. The same distances I could cruise through in the winter feel impossible. Being in direct sunlight offers an unexpected relief as some of the sweat is scorched off your skin. Who needs a tanning bed when the summer rays give you a tan that even the fall and long winter cannot undo? The pleasure of squeezing out your shirt, shorts and socks after the run is irreplaceable. If you were to measure it, you would know exactly how much water to put back into your body. A doctor may suggest coconut water or something of that sort to replenish those micro nutrients, but I recommend drinking an ice-cold Coke or Sprite. You will not regret it. 

An image of Han River from Jamsugyo. / HTR

    I am not a spiritual person by any means but that does not stop me visiting my old friend in my brightest to bluest moods. I thank the river for my blessings. I whisper my prayers into the wind. I ask my words to be carried far to someone or something that may answer them.

    I went on a late night walk along the river with my girlfriend early this winter. It was the calmest evening. No wind. No passerby. No traffic noise. As if  the music had been intentionally lowered and the lights dimmed. I wondered then, how could I possibly repay a friend who never wants for nothing? 

Thank you.

S.G.