On Friday night, our beloved pub, scene of impromptu gigs, late-night plans to sneak into the pool and Harry's (unwise?) decision to take the microphone at karaoke, closed down for good. EVers got together to give it a grand old send-off, complete with (C)ass beer, $1 soju cocktails and poker.
I was good, and managed to go to bed around midnight. Leigh and Harry, well... let's just say Leigh made the mistake of going noraebanging with edutainers. Again. Silly girl. She got home around 3am. Harry, my dear cousin, crawled into bed at 5am, and then got up again a couple of hours later for a full day of his Harvard course. I know I'm aging, but I'm fairly certain I never had that kind of stamina.
It gets worse.
On Sunday, at 7:30am, we drove 20 minutes north to Imjingak, right on the border with North Korea, where he ran a half-marathon.
Incredible.
So we set off at 7:30. There were 5 runners from EV, four of them South Africans, and most of them pretty nervous. In true Korean style-e, the Imjingak carpark was transformed into a mini-festival site. Tents had been erected all over the place, serving drinks, storing bags, and providing picnic spaces. One tent housed a masseuse; a few others had well-known sports store clothing for sale. A group of men and women, ranging in age from about 6 to around 80, banged traditional drums with enthusiasm.
After the runners had attached their numbers and dropped off their bags for safekeeping, we walked over to the starting area where students waited with banners to divide the runners into their various groups - 5km, 10km, half and full marathon - and this is where, I have to admit, I left our fit and healthy heroes to skulk round the back and smoke a cigarette.
I watched from the back as three girls came up on stage to lead the runners in a mass warm-up - quite an odd experience really! Most of the Koreans got really into it, flinging themselves about with abandon. I amused myself watching some of the more interesting characters - one man was running apparently in a plastic bag, which I am assuming is a mainstream, recognized way of running in a marathon. Two little girls (not twins, I don't think) were warming up for the 5km dressed in matching suits! Cute-uh!
I took a video; watch out for Harry. He's easy to find. He's the one in the bright yellow t-shirt, blond hair, about a foot taller than anyone else around him...
It gets worse.
On Sunday, at 7:30am, we drove 20 minutes north to Imjingak, right on the border with North Korea, where he ran a half-marathon.
Incredible.
So we set off at 7:30. There were 5 runners from EV, four of them South Africans, and most of them pretty nervous. In true Korean style-e, the Imjingak carpark was transformed into a mini-festival site. Tents had been erected all over the place, serving drinks, storing bags, and providing picnic spaces. One tent housed a masseuse; a few others had well-known sports store clothing for sale. A group of men and women, ranging in age from about 6 to around 80, banged traditional drums with enthusiasm.
After the runners had attached their numbers and dropped off their bags for safekeeping, we walked over to the starting area where students waited with banners to divide the runners into their various groups - 5km, 10km, half and full marathon - and this is where, I have to admit, I left our fit and healthy heroes to skulk round the back and smoke a cigarette.
I watched from the back as three girls came up on stage to lead the runners in a mass warm-up - quite an odd experience really! Most of the Koreans got really into it, flinging themselves about with abandon. I amused myself watching some of the more interesting characters - one man was running apparently in a plastic bag, which I am assuming is a mainstream, recognized way of running in a marathon. Two little girls (not twins, I don't think) were warming up for the 5km dressed in matching suits! Cute-uh!
I took a video; watch out for Harry. He's easy to find. He's the one in the bright yellow t-shirt, blond hair, about a foot taller than anyone else around him...
After warming up - exercise which for me, would have counted for the whole day's outing - we turned and walked up to the starting line, the marathon runners at the front, each group getting successively bigger as you moved down toward the 5km group.
A brass band saw them off, and then I turned back to the Imjingak complex for a 2-hour walkabout.
I'd actually been here before, briefly, as part of the DMZ tour I took earlier in the year. We stopped for about 5 minutes, looked over the Freedom Bridge, and then went on into the Demilitarized Zone itself. There's so much more here than the Bridge though, so I was looking forward to a bit of time to explore.
First I went to get a takeaway coffee, and I went to drink this around the side of the main building, where I could sit on a bench and look out over rice paddies and the river, albeit through some heavy-duty fencing and a deep trench.
I sat for a while by the Peace Bell, sharing a sandwich with the little sparrows that have taken up residence in the roof above.
I'd actually been here before, briefly, as part of the DMZ tour I took earlier in the year. We stopped for about 5 minutes, looked over the Freedom Bridge, and then went on into the Demilitarized Zone itself. There's so much more here than the Bridge though, so I was looking forward to a bit of time to explore.
First I went to get a takeaway coffee, and I went to drink this around the side of the main building, where I could sit on a bench and look out over rice paddies and the river, albeit through some heavy-duty fencing and a deep trench.
I sat for a while by the Peace Bell, sharing a sandwich with the little sparrows that have taken up residence in the roof above.
There were a lot of tourists about, of course, but I found an oddly peaceful little spot, looking over the Imjin River. From my spot I could see a South Korean guardpost, young soldiers with glasses staring blankly out over rifles from under their helmets. On the other side a North Korean guardpost was visible in the DMZ. While I sat and read my book, an old man came by dressed in a clean, slightly ragged suit. He nodded at me and smiled at my book, and when he'd settled into his spot by the Peace Bell pavilion, he carefully unpacked his bag, setting out a sandwich and a bottle of soju...
Further down the hill, away from the guardposts, the grassy hills sprouted statues and art installations. I loved this one of a footed fish:
Finally, an hour and a half after the runners had set off, I walked back to the finish post to cheer them back over. I waited for a while before I saw two of my friends come sprinting through; when I went over to congratulate them, they told me Harry had last been seen racing past them on the other side of the road, on his way back down the loop - I'd missed him! I couldn't believe it, I was sure I'd be in time at 1:30. But no: we walked down to the stage where we'd set the meeting point, and there he was, celebrating his 1:26 run with Korean ricecakes! All our runners had done well, so we went to collect their medals and documented the moment with a photo, the sweat still dripping off some of them...
I'm still amazed that I'm related to someone who finished among the top ten runners of a half-marathon...
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