I wish I had 3 hours to spare to expand on the title of this entry because I have more than enough information to fulfill that timeslot. However, as I am still currently without (speedy) internet, and not wanting to indefinitely hold up the computer at the house, a brief overview will have to suffice for the time being. (Hopefully I can find some time when I come home (in less than 2 weeks!) to expand on this as well as many other elements of Korean culture which I find particularly admiring and interesting).
In fact, the original title of this entry was 'Korean Culture and Magnanimity', but as I am currently at a loss as to how to even embark upon a description of the generosity and magnanimity that I have recently been the recipient of, I decided to save that word for the hopeful future date at which point I can find a suitable expression of the situation without being tactless. In any case, an itch in my soul is mandating that I write even the most ambiguous of accounts as a minute token of my gratitude.
Over the past few days (in notable addition to the past year and past week), not only was I able to observe incredible kindness seemingly stemming from a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but that benevolence was delivered in the sophisticated and deft speech of a non-native English speaker. Not only that, but the justification that followed the convictive proposition left my mind searching in endless directions for an explanation of how and why these people make the decisions that they make.
After a brief period of befuddlement, I came to the conclusion that these people, while I'm sure have at least a few stemming personal interests, possess a magnanimity with which I am incapable of empathizing. Although I would like to believe that I would do something similar in such a situation, as I searched into the windows of this Korean woman's soul, I could detect no selfishness or hopes of personal gain. And it leaves me wondering - did I just stumble across some of the most kind, gracious people in Korea, and happen to create an unforeseeable bond with them? Or is this sort of kindness, in various degrees, a sort of native exuberance?
As my experience over the past year has created an affable and uplifting perception of the average South Korean person, I tend to allot these above traits, in proportion of course, to many of the people who I see daily on the bus and who carry on in such an encouraging manner everyday. Watching them bear all toils of life in near absence of frustration, scowls, or anger turned-outward is a constant inspiration for me to work through my frustration without bottling in the feeling, but by conquering it through assuaging the negatives, drawing from love, and creating a mental path prime for clear, effective decision making. Perhaps it seems that I am getting off topic, but I believe that this path of self-discovery and benevolence is all intertwined.
Unfortunatley I have already run out of time, so I will leave you with something that I hope strikes a somewhat introspective cord, for I think even the most magnanimous of people can benefit from, at the least, all instances of appreciating kindness that I'm convinced can be found in all spectrums of culture, even if you have to take an extra minute to find it, or perhaps even create it for others to reflect upon.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Things I Learned While Training on Geoje Island
(Monday, August 24, 1:35p. Arrived at Mongdol Beach Hotel on Geoje Island, South Korea.)
Monday:
*"Easy running" in Geoje does not exist.
*(Nor biking (I assume), for that matter.)
*Don't leave things in a plastic bag on the beach, or they will be picked up and mistaken for trash. Luckily my budding Korean skills and cute smile got me out of that mess (just kidding about the cute smile... :D )
*It never hurts to try the buttons on the wall (in your hotel room). One might be the light for the bathroom so you don't have to shower in the dark (again).
*I love FT Island. And Korean Music TV. I'm such a teenaged girl.
Tuesday:
*Confirming yesterday's inference, easy biking does not exist in Geoje.
*10% grades aren't so bad in the easiest gear.
*I wish my speedometer worked as I was bombing down the hills! I get such a childish delight as I see the numbers hit the next ten spot.
*I really hope that I get paid tonight...If not I can't spend another 1,000won! (At least I have my credit cards...)
*Aqua jogging is great exercise - and frankly, kind of hard.
*I NEED TO GET INTO SHAPE!
*Riding on a 'raft', being towed by a motor boat, looks like way more fun than water skiing.
*Check phone charger before going on a trip! Now I have limited funds as well as limited contactability. I really should go home before I get into trouble, but I think the next few days will give me a crapload of life experience...
Wednesday:
*Hills seem more steep when going downhill and knowing that you have to climb back up them later (compared to when you are climbing them back up later).
*While I think now I can climb most hills in my smallest gear, I no longer hold that all 10% grades are easy in the smallest gear. Long 10%-grade hills can be a bitch.
*2.5k. 11 minutes. Minimum (noticed) speed: 6kph. Grade = unknown, but must have been a mo-fo-er. 7 switchbacks. (That's right - 7. One hill. If you don't believe me, go count yourself.) SO HARD. But unparallel mental training.
*My Coach and my hotel are ridiculously nice (comment made concerning them plotting to find me a phone charger.)
*Frustration is setting in from no money and from not getting paid.
*Apparently a butterfly can't move 1 meter in the time it takes me to travel about 20 meters going 44kph to get out of the way of full-body-smackage.
* If you spend too much time in the ocean, which in Geoje is easy due to its enticing...everything... you will get eaten by sea bugs.
*Toothpaste is the best anti-fogger I have yet encountered.
*Being in the ocean for 2+ hours warrants washing my mouth out with soap.
*1 minute of egg-beaters after 60 minutes of aqua jogging is hard.
*Geoje Island is the most beautiful place (or one of them) to aquajog in the world.
*I really need to start taking pictures...
*I want to learn how to surf.
Thursday:
*Running up 바람의 언덕 (Windy Hill) is great mental training...omG.
*Employing techniques of super-slow running with occasional running in place was necessary to get up a 3+ km-hill without stopping (grade between 9-10%).
*7+ minutes, 1km, downhill. Translates to 5.3mph, about 9:40s per mile. Whatever gets you through the run, I guess. (Well, not you - because I bet many of you could have whipped me on this run).
*Hoping your camera battery is charged does not yield the same results as actually charging it...man - I would have gotten some pretty sweet pictures too...
*Jellyfish scare me.
*Moving up a steep incline on a rock beach with no shoes on is no easy task, and in my case can only be described as a clumbsy monkey-walk. Next time maybe I should make a monkey noise. At least that would make it more fun.
*Despite what you might think, 5 blisters on the balls of my feet (from excellent decision-making last Sunday) do not make walking on rock beaches feel better.
*If majority rules, then fish would rule the world.
*If it were possible to build a house safe from hurricanes and the like as an island such that I would have to swim to land everyday in order to work and to get food, I would do it in a heartbeat.
*18g-of-protein-worth of beef jerky is more than 6x the price of a can of soda, but just as delicious and nutritious as the jerky I've eaten in the States.
*I miss Korean food. When will my salary some so I can go to a restaurant and eat some real food?!?
*I love how 'switchbacks' (or just 'winding' in general) are called 꼬불꼬불 in Korean, which sounds like 'gobble gobble'. :D
Friday:
*Slippery roads, fog, and Geoje hills do not go well together. Luckily my hotel was situated near on of the only flats on the island (all 1km or so of flat), so I got to ride back and forth for 2.3 hours (with a partial-hill added into the repeats as the sun came out).
*Brown jellyfish really scare me. As the scariness-level of jellyfish go, they take the cake (unless I were confronted with a black one - then I might **** my bathing suit.)
*Walking stairs for 30 minutes counts as running in my training log.
*In my opinion, 16.5 hours of exercise in 4.5 days constitutes a pretty sweet workout trip for coming off of a decently-dehabilitating injury.
*Killing 8 mosquitos in the morning before exercising makes me feel powerful.
*There is much wisdom to be learned from 'boring' interval repeats if you really tune into what your body is saying.
That's about all I learned on my trip. Unfortunately, since I waited until Thursday to charge my camera and Friday was foggy, I took zero pictures. Go me. I'll just have to wait until the next time I go to Geoje for pictures...(smacking self on the head).
Monday:
*"Easy running" in Geoje does not exist.
*(Nor biking (I assume), for that matter.)
*Don't leave things in a plastic bag on the beach, or they will be picked up and mistaken for trash. Luckily my budding Korean skills and cute smile got me out of that mess (just kidding about the cute smile... :D )
*It never hurts to try the buttons on the wall (in your hotel room). One might be the light for the bathroom so you don't have to shower in the dark (again).
*I love FT Island. And Korean Music TV. I'm such a teenaged girl.
Tuesday:
*Confirming yesterday's inference, easy biking does not exist in Geoje.
*10% grades aren't so bad in the easiest gear.
*I wish my speedometer worked as I was bombing down the hills! I get such a childish delight as I see the numbers hit the next ten spot.
*I really hope that I get paid tonight...If not I can't spend another 1,000won! (At least I have my credit cards...)
*Aqua jogging is great exercise - and frankly, kind of hard.
*I NEED TO GET INTO SHAPE!
*Riding on a 'raft', being towed by a motor boat, looks like way more fun than water skiing.
*Check phone charger before going on a trip! Now I have limited funds as well as limited contactability. I really should go home before I get into trouble, but I think the next few days will give me a crapload of life experience...
Wednesday:
*Hills seem more steep when going downhill and knowing that you have to climb back up them later (compared to when you are climbing them back up later).
*While I think now I can climb most hills in my smallest gear, I no longer hold that all 10% grades are easy in the smallest gear. Long 10%-grade hills can be a bitch.
*2.5k. 11 minutes. Minimum (noticed) speed: 6kph. Grade = unknown, but must have been a mo-fo-er. 7 switchbacks. (That's right - 7. One hill. If you don't believe me, go count yourself.) SO HARD. But unparallel mental training.
*My Coach and my hotel are ridiculously nice (comment made concerning them plotting to find me a phone charger.)
*Frustration is setting in from no money and from not getting paid.
*Apparently a butterfly can't move 1 meter in the time it takes me to travel about 20 meters going 44kph to get out of the way of full-body-smackage.
* If you spend too much time in the ocean, which in Geoje is easy due to its enticing...everything... you will get eaten by sea bugs.
*Toothpaste is the best anti-fogger I have yet encountered.
*Being in the ocean for 2+ hours warrants washing my mouth out with soap.
*1 minute of egg-beaters after 60 minutes of aqua jogging is hard.
*Geoje Island is the most beautiful place (or one of them) to aquajog in the world.
*I really need to start taking pictures...
*I want to learn how to surf.
Thursday:
*Running up 바람의 언덕 (Windy Hill) is great mental training...omG.
*Employing techniques of super-slow running with occasional running in place was necessary to get up a 3+ km-hill without stopping (grade between 9-10%).
*7+ minutes, 1km, downhill. Translates to 5.3mph, about 9:40s per mile. Whatever gets you through the run, I guess. (Well, not you - because I bet many of you could have whipped me on this run).
*Hoping your camera battery is charged does not yield the same results as actually charging it...man - I would have gotten some pretty sweet pictures too...
*Jellyfish scare me.
*Moving up a steep incline on a rock beach with no shoes on is no easy task, and in my case can only be described as a clumbsy monkey-walk. Next time maybe I should make a monkey noise. At least that would make it more fun.
*Despite what you might think, 5 blisters on the balls of my feet (from excellent decision-making last Sunday) do not make walking on rock beaches feel better.
*If majority rules, then fish would rule the world.
*If it were possible to build a house safe from hurricanes and the like as an island such that I would have to swim to land everyday in order to work and to get food, I would do it in a heartbeat.
*18g-of-protein-worth of beef jerky is more than 6x the price of a can of soda, but just as delicious and nutritious as the jerky I've eaten in the States.
*I miss Korean food. When will my salary some so I can go to a restaurant and eat some real food?!?
*I love how 'switchbacks' (or just 'winding' in general) are called 꼬불꼬불 in Korean, which sounds like 'gobble gobble'. :D
Friday:
*Slippery roads, fog, and Geoje hills do not go well together. Luckily my hotel was situated near on of the only flats on the island (all 1km or so of flat), so I got to ride back and forth for 2.3 hours (with a partial-hill added into the repeats as the sun came out).
*Brown jellyfish really scare me. As the scariness-level of jellyfish go, they take the cake (unless I were confronted with a black one - then I might **** my bathing suit.)
*Walking stairs for 30 minutes counts as running in my training log.
*In my opinion, 16.5 hours of exercise in 4.5 days constitutes a pretty sweet workout trip for coming off of a decently-dehabilitating injury.
*Killing 8 mosquitos in the morning before exercising makes me feel powerful.
*There is much wisdom to be learned from 'boring' interval repeats if you really tune into what your body is saying.
That's about all I learned on my trip. Unfortunately, since I waited until Thursday to charge my camera and Friday was foggy, I took zero pictures. Go me. I'll just have to wait until the next time I go to Geoje for pictures...(smacking self on the head).
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Unfortunate Circumstances Part II: Contemplation and Rehab
As I reread the previous post to get a sense of where to begin Part II, I once again relived the experience, and realized that I was not completely truthful about my emotions (maybe I was truthful at the time but suppressed my true emotions...I can't say for sure). All I know is, thinking back to being stuck in the cove and seeing and hearing the presence of my Coach on the rock (I don't think I looked at his face, for whatever reason), and failing my first attempt at getting out of the water, I realized that while it is true that I was calm and thinking strategically, I was not completely unafraid.
I suppose that the fear I felt was just different from normal fear - absent of a racing heart mostly - so it was hard to recognize. But I do remember now that after falling back into the water, there were many thoughts that went through my head, many of them concerning whether or not I would make it up onto that rock. I don't care who you are, if you value your life or anything in it, I think feeling uncertainty about a possible-life-or-death outcome despite knowing you will put forth your best effort to fight, will result in a feeling that is meant to be captured in the meaning of 'fear.' It was almost a combination of complete persistence and mild-hopelessness, if you can imagine such a feeling, because I understand that the description doesn't make much sense at all.
(I'm saying this because I wanted to clarify that I am not as 'heroic' or 'fearless' as I may make myself out to be, or as you may make me out to be, in saying that I felt no fear. Because in reassessment, I think I was blinded by ignorance.)
Black goggles, light blue short-sleeved shirt, olive green pants, and pink socks - stuck to the emotionally-helpless body of a seemingly-uncomfortable shape of complete vertical asymetry (strangely enough, because I'm sure the body took the most comforting position at the time). After following Coach on four legs to a more safe, dry spot, this is the visual that remained situated, trembling, for the next few minutes. With the right foot flat on the rock, right arm resting on the knee to provide a temporary refuge for a heavy head, I let the emotions pour for a few moments until my soul decided to conjure enough strength to lift my eyes and search through my tears for the image that had just a few minutes ago been so close, so real.
I can't really say what I was looking for. I know that my mind was not contemplating going back in, and I wasn't looking for a sight to torture my thoughts. Maybe I was wondering where the waves had taken him. I also remember wanting to know where he was incase the ER team, which was quickly arriving, needed to know, so they could more quickly complete their task of retrieving the body - although I had absolutely no intention of trying to make any sounds reminiscent of words in the case that I could provide such information. More likely, I was looking for a something of substance - something that reminded me of the boy that had just been under my arms - to which I could say goodbye; to which I could send a piece of my heart.
After not much luck, my subconscious strength took hold and, with the help of my Coach, took me to retrieve my various strewn belongings. Mildly audible sobs replaced my breathing, and if I had made eye contact with anyone other than the boy's friends*, I think I would have been met by most of the eyes of the many onlookers who had been there to capture most of the scene. Luckily my mind did not entertain such an option, as I focused all my remaining energy to getting back up the cliff in my now-slippery shoes, with my eyes towards the ground, until we climbed over the barrier to the parking lot and made our way back to the car. I heard some words from various onlookers but in all honesty I don't think I would have understood any words coming from anyone other than my Coach at that time, no matter what the language.
(*My heart truly goes out to the boy's friends, because as I gave them my brief attention, their expressions of hardly any change in emotion signified a probable confusion, shock, and delay of processing the events. I wish to say nothing else about the friends other than I hope they put no blame in their minds for anything that they may have misconstrued about the situation.)
I got into the backseat of Coach's car and we drove to his home. As we were driving, my mind was somewhat paralyzed, unable to grasp the entirety of what had just transpired. I was also trying to be as quiet as possible because, although I know that Coach and his family are very intuned to my culture (as well as the fact that I may act differently due to culture even if they don't understand why), I wasn't sure how their culture dealt with such circumstances, so I'm glad that I was able to refrain from loud sobbing in the car for that reason. I was at an interim of sobbing fits, and was content to sit with my head in my hand, looking out the window as we passed through streets that looked familiar and yet strange, from the shade of a new perspective.
From the moment I emerged from the water, most of what I heard from Coach was a kind of 'sighing' and perhaps things reminiscent of 'oh my God,' although I can't remember exactly. In the car the 'sighs' continued (not often, but there), with nothing spoken much between us except for some 'should I get a blanket to put on the seat' type questions that I asked before getting into the car.
Soon after we started for his home, he called his wife (in a very calm voice, characteristic of him, but I could detect special softness in his tone at this time) and asked her to prepare a warm bath, and told her that we would be home soon. Since the word for bath/bathing sounds like the word 'to eat', I initially thought he was asking her to prepare dinner, but then as I realized what he was asking for, a feeling of warmth started to find its way into my wounded heart. It is from here that I think my healing began.
We got the the house, and I was a little worried about my mood. In Korea thus far, my mood has been a stable very-happy, especially around my Coach's family. They have never seen me enter their house, or enter a room or area, without a huge smile on my face. And I knew this was about to change. I knew that he didn't tell them exactly what happened either, but I'm sure that his wife knew from his phone call that something was very out of the ordinary, so I bet she prepared herself and my little bro for an abnormal meeting.
However, once I got inside and I saw my brother, it wasn't hard to put my troubles at least partially at bay and muster a smile. While the smile wasn't nearly as full as usual, it came with ease. If there is one thing I have learned from becoming an older-sibling figure (as well as a teacher), it is that kids are a special breed. Not only do they have a special energy that requires a different type of attention (and thus crippling the ability to ruminate in their presence), but they also don't have the capacity to comprehend many mature situations. My mind realized this without having to think about it, and while I was still obviously not the same enthusiastic, life-loving person that day as I normally am, my appearance was significantly less-traumatized when I saw his face.
Anyway, Coach and his wife directed me into the bathroom to relax. As I took off my wet clothes, I left on my bathing suit (which I had been wearing the whole time because I had swum before hand and not yet changed) as I climbed into the tub. I'm not sure why - maybe to attempt to wash away the experience of the past hour.
I sat in the warm water, head in hands, and allowed myself to sob again, but attempted to stifle the noise (again, partially because I wasn't sure of the culture, partially because of my little brother, and also just because I'm not the type of person to weep all out in front of others unless I am in their arms and then I am pretty much uncontrollable). However, I was aware of my surroundings, and aware of the time, and aware of the fact that I was using the only bathroom in their apartment, so I let about 10 minutes pass and then cleaned myself up and prepared to muster the strength to politely decline our usual Sunday dinner engagement.
After opening the door into the real world, once again it was easier to be more normal. There was a definite mood of mild apphrehension but nothing like I would probably have seen in the States or any other western countries. I walked out, set my bag of clothes down, and soon after told Coach that I thought it would be best if I went home. I'm not stupid - I know that I am more apt to ruminate about it if I am alone, but I also didn't want to ruminate about it in the presence of those that take such great care of me and ruin their afternoon, especially considering their culture might look down upon such brooding. (For the record, I am under the impression that Koreans do not brood as much, but probably do somewhat and let things go quicker. Also, Korean people generally do not show their emotions nearly as much as Americans do, so even if they were brooding you might not be able to tell. I don't mean to sound negative or judgmental towards Koreans in this way, I'm just stating observations and guesses. I actually think that one reason I am dealing with this situation as well as I believe I am is because my mood has become much more stable since living here as a result of their more peaceful nature.)
Coach consented to the premature trip home, but asked that I wait for him to take a shower so that he could take me there. As he had just driven 3+ hours that day (we had returned from Geoje Island early that morning), I didn't want him to have to drive even more when I could take a bus, but he gently insisted, so I complied. When he was in the shower, I played Jacks with my bro, laughing (although more sedated) and making various small talk. Coach's wife's mood was extremely stable (in the sense that it was just about as normal as it usually is) which was suprisingly not uncomfortable at all. But at one point, while 'playing' Jacks, she made a comment saying "don't think about it too much - it's not your fault", and without thinking my face contorted and tears started sprinting down my face. I turned away, wiped them on my arm, took a quick deep breath, and turned back, nearly composed. She then casually asked me if I wanted a tissue. It was a very interesting interchange, because her face didn't exhibit any sympathy at all (although I'm positive she felt for me), and I felt very comfortable and reassured. A smile followed soon after the tears and conversation was becoming easier and easier.
After Coach finished showering, everyone got up and started to leave. Although he said he was going to take me home, once we all got into the elevator I realized that that probably wasn't going to happen. While I still wanted to be alone, because no matter how much comfort they gave me I was still going to be traumatized to some degree, I of course would consent to having dinner with them if they knew the repercussions. And that's just what happened.
There was a decent amount of traffic so there was ample time to talk in the car. After a few minutes, I decided to get over myself and ask them what I was thinking. So I said, "If you were watching the situation that happened today, and you didn't know me, can you tell me honestly what you would have thought? I mean, I brought him to the rocks, which was clearly more dangerous than bringing him to shore. I know that Koreans are very honest. Do you think that people thought that that was a bad thing to do? Either way, it doesn't matter. I know they won't think all badly of me. I will just feel better if I know one way or the other."
After having merely asked the question and vocalized my concern, I immediately felt much better. Coach's wife said, "I think people thought you were brave, and that they were very thankful that you tried. Especially because you are a foreigner." Then she and Coach went on to say through a bit more elaboration that they both thought that I was very brave and that they were very thankful that I tried. I maintained my composure pretty well, acknowledging that my brother was sitting next to me, but also voiced a few of my concerns, talked it out a bit, shed a few silent tears, and shifted gears to talk about what kind of food we wanted to eat for dinner.
*I know that some of you might be wondering why Coach didn't go in after the boy (I posted a bit about this on a triathlon forum for a bit more support, and someone voiced that question), so I will address that now. We never talked about it, and I have to admit I didn't even consider this question until someone posed it on the forum. But after thinking about it, I believe or know the following things: a) I am a stronger swimmer than he is, especially in open water; b) I had my goggles with me and he did not; c) I had just swum in this water and thus knew without having to think that I could handle it; d) he does not have recent experience swimming in big waves. While it is true that his lifeguarding and CPR skills are more up-to-date than mine, I believed at the time (without having to consciously think about it) that I was the best option that this boy had at survival, and I believe that my Coach thought the same thing, for if he did not, I believe that he would not have allowed me to get into the water. I think many people think because he is my 'coach' (which, in fact, his relationship to me is not that of a traditional coach, something which can not be easily explained if you don't know our situation) as well as a man, that he should have been the one to jump in, and I do not agree.
Also, even if he were a better swimmer than I am, I would not fault him for not going in (let me include that he never persuaded me to go in by any means). The waves were very big, and the area had a lot of rocks around the peripheral, and it would have been somewhat dangerous for anyone to go in there, especially if they did not have full confidence in being able to battle the waves for their own life, never mind for another's as well. I hope that none of you judge him for not going in. In the end, in a situation like this, if someone has any doubts about whether or not to go in, I would (at least in hindsight) personally advise that they do not, because doubt can be a very dangerous factor in such an equation.*
As the day's events had left me feeling much less filtered than normal, I decided to utilize that feeling and ask about the status of my potential job as a triathlon coach in Korea for this upcoming fall (I felt that asking too many questions about it would be bothersome to him, especially since he was working very hard to make it happen, so I was originally planning to wait it out). I won't go into this conversation much, because it is the subject of my next entry, but I can say that it has a very exciting answer. If you want my advice, I'd tune in after a few days to read about it. :)
We ate our 낙지 볶음밥 (nakji bokkum bap, or spicy octopus and rice - one of my favorite meals) and discussed particulars of the job, and didn't talk much about the day's events, which was good for me. I initially hadn't wanted to go out because I thought that would be all I could think about, but after having addressed some of my concerns in the car and having a new exciting prospect on the horizon to ask questions about, I was able to put my feelings and internal images at bay.
As we finished our meal, I assumed they were going to take me home, although my mind was still unable to think about more than one thing at once so I wasn't really thinking about anything other than the present, which at that time was looking at an English comic book with little bro. However, when we got in the car, Coach asked me if I could see a movie with them, to which I agreed without consideration beyond wondering what time I gad to get up for work the next day.
I have to admit, they are very perspicacious. At no time did I feel like they had any plans to lure me away from my ruminative solitude, but I now believe that all along that was their intention - and they implemented it beautifully. Not once did they ask me with a sympathetic look if I wanted to be with people; not once did they suggest that being alone would make me feel worse; and not once did they make it obvious that they knew that this was the best thing for me and that my decision to want to go home was clearly the worse option. They merely seemed to sympathize with the torment that was going through my mind and quelled that torment with compassion and love; a love which from the eyes of an ordinary observer may have appeared nonexistent, but which I know in my heart was overwhelmingly present.
G.I. Joe actually turned out to be not too bad of a flick. Coach's wife told me that they wanted to see something else - something more happy - but no better option was playing at that theater (one of the other options was a movie about a tsunami... - but we had already seen it anyway :) ). As we sat in the theater eating our popsicles and waiting for the movie to start, I turned to them and thanked them for taking me out. "I know I said I wanted to go home, and I did. I didn't want to bum you guys out, because I knew I wasn't going to be in the best mood tonight. But I'm very thankful that you took me to dinner, and to this movie. I'm hardly thinking about it, and I already feel much better. So thank you, very much. I really appreciate it." They nodded, smiled, and briefly acknowledged their actions. And then I moved onto another topic of conversation.
As the movie ended and I stood up out of my seat, I realized that my foot was in a decent amount of pain. I had put a few bandaids on my ankle and my toe before dinner so I knew there were minor injuries, but my toe started to feel like it was broken. I limped out of the theater, and saw Coach limping as well (apparently he sustained a minor injury as well as he was running down the cliff). I told them that I thought I might have broken my toe, and took off my shoe to see the damage. Sure enough, it was purple and swollen. So they decided to take me to a hospital before going home.
The hospital fees ended up being much more expensive during extended hours, so after telling him that I was fine until morning, we left, and decided that I would call my school and tell them that I was going to come in late the next day so I could go to the hospital first thing. (I didn't have class anyway so all I would be skipping was fulfilling my contract for being at school for a certain amount of days per semester.) Coach told me to contact him in the morning so we could go to the hospital together.
The next morning, we met at 9:20a near his home. I of course thought we would be going straight to the hospital, because he told me that they opened at 9:30a. However, as we started walking together, he told me that before going to the hospital, he wanted to take me to the firestation to report my brave act. I was a little nervous, because I had already cried a few times that morning, and I knew that if I heard the story again (even if it was in Korean) I would start crying yet again, and I didn't want my Coach to think badly of me for not being able to contain my emotions. But of course, I consented.
We arrived at the fire station, and took a seat. Coach barely got out the words "yesterday, Igidae Park, middle school student", and tears started flowing. However, I tried my best to maintain some sort of composure, and made it through re-living the scene with a steady one-tear-per-cheek, with constant hand-grazing near the tear ducts. He told them the basics, and after he was finished, a few firemen escorted us to another room on the second floor. I regained my composure as we met some new Korean faces who had not yet seen my overt display of emotions, hoping to keep it that way. But yet agian, he told the story, in more detail, and with the back and forth glances from four firemen, a few tears forced themselves past my weak barrier of composure.
Luckily, two of the firemen were periodically interrupting Coach's flow with questions and comments. "Yea, we heard he was a 3rd grade middle student" (about 9th grade in the States). "We had heard that a foreigner jumped in after him, but the onlookers thought she was Russian." (All of this, of course, in Korean - and thus I can't say that my translations were perfect, but definitely the right gist.) They finished up talking, tried to talk to me a bit but with their English skills almost non-existent and my Korean skills, as much of my other mental capacities, paralyzed, I was not able to directly interact much with the firemen. However, before we left, they looked me right in the eye, and said what my eyes and heart know to be some version of, "We thank you so much for your bravery." After a few more words with Coach, they shook our hands, and we set off for the hospital.
Our destination was the same hospital that treated me for my burns. 'Great,' I thought. 'They're going to think I'm a psycho.' But, not as psycho as the doctor who treated me for my broken fingers would have assessed, because 3 broken digits in 7 months is pretty special, especially for a foreigner. However, fortunately, the x-rays were clean; only a contusion. (HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF). Strangely enough, I wasn't nearly as concerned about breaking my toe as I had been about breaking my fingers, even though it would have been more dehabilitating. True, breaking a toe as a result of stupidity would have made me very frustrated, but the fact that this injury was now directly related in my mind with the catastrophe of losing a life, it wouldn't have phased me as much. I realize I would have lost probably another few weeks from IM training, but in the grand scheme of things, I would still be able to race, even if I was in the worst shape of my life. Moreso, I don't think my subconscious would ever let me feel frustrated or upset about the fact that I was minorly injured trying to save someone's life. I believe that sort frustration just does not exist.
It seems that Coach appreciated my actions more than he could put into words, because he politely insisted on paying for both the doctor's fee as well as the medicine, which was a bit humbling, but of course appreciated. As he was driving me to the bus stop (for I had to go back to school to sit at my desk), he said, "On behalf of Korean people, I thank you."
Because this entry (Part II) was divided up into three sittings, I feel that I wasn't able to convey the atmoshpere of love that surrounded me within those eventful 21 hours to the best of my ability. And as I am tired, hungry, and anxious to get started on the things that I have been putting back in order to finish this entry, I'm not going to attempt a particularly noteworthy sum-up at this point (don't get me wrong - putting all of this into writing has really helped me deal with the situation, but it is exhausting all the same). But in my heart and in my soul, I will never forget the love that enveloped me, that introduced me to feelings and knowledge of new, and for that I will always be able to look upon this experience knowing that faith can be found in the most seeminlgy-abysmal places, and can be found to guide a heavy heart out of despair, and to realize the conquering power of the heart.
I suppose that the fear I felt was just different from normal fear - absent of a racing heart mostly - so it was hard to recognize. But I do remember now that after falling back into the water, there were many thoughts that went through my head, many of them concerning whether or not I would make it up onto that rock. I don't care who you are, if you value your life or anything in it, I think feeling uncertainty about a possible-life-or-death outcome despite knowing you will put forth your best effort to fight, will result in a feeling that is meant to be captured in the meaning of 'fear.' It was almost a combination of complete persistence and mild-hopelessness, if you can imagine such a feeling, because I understand that the description doesn't make much sense at all.
(I'm saying this because I wanted to clarify that I am not as 'heroic' or 'fearless' as I may make myself out to be, or as you may make me out to be, in saying that I felt no fear. Because in reassessment, I think I was blinded by ignorance.)
Black goggles, light blue short-sleeved shirt, olive green pants, and pink socks - stuck to the emotionally-helpless body of a seemingly-uncomfortable shape of complete vertical asymetry (strangely enough, because I'm sure the body took the most comforting position at the time). After following Coach on four legs to a more safe, dry spot, this is the visual that remained situated, trembling, for the next few minutes. With the right foot flat on the rock, right arm resting on the knee to provide a temporary refuge for a heavy head, I let the emotions pour for a few moments until my soul decided to conjure enough strength to lift my eyes and search through my tears for the image that had just a few minutes ago been so close, so real.
I can't really say what I was looking for. I know that my mind was not contemplating going back in, and I wasn't looking for a sight to torture my thoughts. Maybe I was wondering where the waves had taken him. I also remember wanting to know where he was incase the ER team, which was quickly arriving, needed to know, so they could more quickly complete their task of retrieving the body - although I had absolutely no intention of trying to make any sounds reminiscent of words in the case that I could provide such information. More likely, I was looking for a something of substance - something that reminded me of the boy that had just been under my arms - to which I could say goodbye; to which I could send a piece of my heart.
After not much luck, my subconscious strength took hold and, with the help of my Coach, took me to retrieve my various strewn belongings. Mildly audible sobs replaced my breathing, and if I had made eye contact with anyone other than the boy's friends*, I think I would have been met by most of the eyes of the many onlookers who had been there to capture most of the scene. Luckily my mind did not entertain such an option, as I focused all my remaining energy to getting back up the cliff in my now-slippery shoes, with my eyes towards the ground, until we climbed over the barrier to the parking lot and made our way back to the car. I heard some words from various onlookers but in all honesty I don't think I would have understood any words coming from anyone other than my Coach at that time, no matter what the language.
(*My heart truly goes out to the boy's friends, because as I gave them my brief attention, their expressions of hardly any change in emotion signified a probable confusion, shock, and delay of processing the events. I wish to say nothing else about the friends other than I hope they put no blame in their minds for anything that they may have misconstrued about the situation.)
I got into the backseat of Coach's car and we drove to his home. As we were driving, my mind was somewhat paralyzed, unable to grasp the entirety of what had just transpired. I was also trying to be as quiet as possible because, although I know that Coach and his family are very intuned to my culture (as well as the fact that I may act differently due to culture even if they don't understand why), I wasn't sure how their culture dealt with such circumstances, so I'm glad that I was able to refrain from loud sobbing in the car for that reason. I was at an interim of sobbing fits, and was content to sit with my head in my hand, looking out the window as we passed through streets that looked familiar and yet strange, from the shade of a new perspective.
From the moment I emerged from the water, most of what I heard from Coach was a kind of 'sighing' and perhaps things reminiscent of 'oh my God,' although I can't remember exactly. In the car the 'sighs' continued (not often, but there), with nothing spoken much between us except for some 'should I get a blanket to put on the seat' type questions that I asked before getting into the car.
Soon after we started for his home, he called his wife (in a very calm voice, characteristic of him, but I could detect special softness in his tone at this time) and asked her to prepare a warm bath, and told her that we would be home soon. Since the word for bath/bathing sounds like the word 'to eat', I initially thought he was asking her to prepare dinner, but then as I realized what he was asking for, a feeling of warmth started to find its way into my wounded heart. It is from here that I think my healing began.
We got the the house, and I was a little worried about my mood. In Korea thus far, my mood has been a stable very-happy, especially around my Coach's family. They have never seen me enter their house, or enter a room or area, without a huge smile on my face. And I knew this was about to change. I knew that he didn't tell them exactly what happened either, but I'm sure that his wife knew from his phone call that something was very out of the ordinary, so I bet she prepared herself and my little bro for an abnormal meeting.
However, once I got inside and I saw my brother, it wasn't hard to put my troubles at least partially at bay and muster a smile. While the smile wasn't nearly as full as usual, it came with ease. If there is one thing I have learned from becoming an older-sibling figure (as well as a teacher), it is that kids are a special breed. Not only do they have a special energy that requires a different type of attention (and thus crippling the ability to ruminate in their presence), but they also don't have the capacity to comprehend many mature situations. My mind realized this without having to think about it, and while I was still obviously not the same enthusiastic, life-loving person that day as I normally am, my appearance was significantly less-traumatized when I saw his face.
Anyway, Coach and his wife directed me into the bathroom to relax. As I took off my wet clothes, I left on my bathing suit (which I had been wearing the whole time because I had swum before hand and not yet changed) as I climbed into the tub. I'm not sure why - maybe to attempt to wash away the experience of the past hour.
I sat in the warm water, head in hands, and allowed myself to sob again, but attempted to stifle the noise (again, partially because I wasn't sure of the culture, partially because of my little brother, and also just because I'm not the type of person to weep all out in front of others unless I am in their arms and then I am pretty much uncontrollable). However, I was aware of my surroundings, and aware of the time, and aware of the fact that I was using the only bathroom in their apartment, so I let about 10 minutes pass and then cleaned myself up and prepared to muster the strength to politely decline our usual Sunday dinner engagement.
After opening the door into the real world, once again it was easier to be more normal. There was a definite mood of mild apphrehension but nothing like I would probably have seen in the States or any other western countries. I walked out, set my bag of clothes down, and soon after told Coach that I thought it would be best if I went home. I'm not stupid - I know that I am more apt to ruminate about it if I am alone, but I also didn't want to ruminate about it in the presence of those that take such great care of me and ruin their afternoon, especially considering their culture might look down upon such brooding. (For the record, I am under the impression that Koreans do not brood as much, but probably do somewhat and let things go quicker. Also, Korean people generally do not show their emotions nearly as much as Americans do, so even if they were brooding you might not be able to tell. I don't mean to sound negative or judgmental towards Koreans in this way, I'm just stating observations and guesses. I actually think that one reason I am dealing with this situation as well as I believe I am is because my mood has become much more stable since living here as a result of their more peaceful nature.)
Coach consented to the premature trip home, but asked that I wait for him to take a shower so that he could take me there. As he had just driven 3+ hours that day (we had returned from Geoje Island early that morning), I didn't want him to have to drive even more when I could take a bus, but he gently insisted, so I complied. When he was in the shower, I played Jacks with my bro, laughing (although more sedated) and making various small talk. Coach's wife's mood was extremely stable (in the sense that it was just about as normal as it usually is) which was suprisingly not uncomfortable at all. But at one point, while 'playing' Jacks, she made a comment saying "don't think about it too much - it's not your fault", and without thinking my face contorted and tears started sprinting down my face. I turned away, wiped them on my arm, took a quick deep breath, and turned back, nearly composed. She then casually asked me if I wanted a tissue. It was a very interesting interchange, because her face didn't exhibit any sympathy at all (although I'm positive she felt for me), and I felt very comfortable and reassured. A smile followed soon after the tears and conversation was becoming easier and easier.
After Coach finished showering, everyone got up and started to leave. Although he said he was going to take me home, once we all got into the elevator I realized that that probably wasn't going to happen. While I still wanted to be alone, because no matter how much comfort they gave me I was still going to be traumatized to some degree, I of course would consent to having dinner with them if they knew the repercussions. And that's just what happened.
There was a decent amount of traffic so there was ample time to talk in the car. After a few minutes, I decided to get over myself and ask them what I was thinking. So I said, "If you were watching the situation that happened today, and you didn't know me, can you tell me honestly what you would have thought? I mean, I brought him to the rocks, which was clearly more dangerous than bringing him to shore. I know that Koreans are very honest. Do you think that people thought that that was a bad thing to do? Either way, it doesn't matter. I know they won't think all badly of me. I will just feel better if I know one way or the other."
After having merely asked the question and vocalized my concern, I immediately felt much better. Coach's wife said, "I think people thought you were brave, and that they were very thankful that you tried. Especially because you are a foreigner." Then she and Coach went on to say through a bit more elaboration that they both thought that I was very brave and that they were very thankful that I tried. I maintained my composure pretty well, acknowledging that my brother was sitting next to me, but also voiced a few of my concerns, talked it out a bit, shed a few silent tears, and shifted gears to talk about what kind of food we wanted to eat for dinner.
*I know that some of you might be wondering why Coach didn't go in after the boy (I posted a bit about this on a triathlon forum for a bit more support, and someone voiced that question), so I will address that now. We never talked about it, and I have to admit I didn't even consider this question until someone posed it on the forum. But after thinking about it, I believe or know the following things: a) I am a stronger swimmer than he is, especially in open water; b) I had my goggles with me and he did not; c) I had just swum in this water and thus knew without having to think that I could handle it; d) he does not have recent experience swimming in big waves. While it is true that his lifeguarding and CPR skills are more up-to-date than mine, I believed at the time (without having to consciously think about it) that I was the best option that this boy had at survival, and I believe that my Coach thought the same thing, for if he did not, I believe that he would not have allowed me to get into the water. I think many people think because he is my 'coach' (which, in fact, his relationship to me is not that of a traditional coach, something which can not be easily explained if you don't know our situation) as well as a man, that he should have been the one to jump in, and I do not agree.
Also, even if he were a better swimmer than I am, I would not fault him for not going in (let me include that he never persuaded me to go in by any means). The waves were very big, and the area had a lot of rocks around the peripheral, and it would have been somewhat dangerous for anyone to go in there, especially if they did not have full confidence in being able to battle the waves for their own life, never mind for another's as well. I hope that none of you judge him for not going in. In the end, in a situation like this, if someone has any doubts about whether or not to go in, I would (at least in hindsight) personally advise that they do not, because doubt can be a very dangerous factor in such an equation.*
As the day's events had left me feeling much less filtered than normal, I decided to utilize that feeling and ask about the status of my potential job as a triathlon coach in Korea for this upcoming fall (I felt that asking too many questions about it would be bothersome to him, especially since he was working very hard to make it happen, so I was originally planning to wait it out). I won't go into this conversation much, because it is the subject of my next entry, but I can say that it has a very exciting answer. If you want my advice, I'd tune in after a few days to read about it. :)
We ate our 낙지 볶음밥 (nakji bokkum bap, or spicy octopus and rice - one of my favorite meals) and discussed particulars of the job, and didn't talk much about the day's events, which was good for me. I initially hadn't wanted to go out because I thought that would be all I could think about, but after having addressed some of my concerns in the car and having a new exciting prospect on the horizon to ask questions about, I was able to put my feelings and internal images at bay.
As we finished our meal, I assumed they were going to take me home, although my mind was still unable to think about more than one thing at once so I wasn't really thinking about anything other than the present, which at that time was looking at an English comic book with little bro. However, when we got in the car, Coach asked me if I could see a movie with them, to which I agreed without consideration beyond wondering what time I gad to get up for work the next day.
I have to admit, they are very perspicacious. At no time did I feel like they had any plans to lure me away from my ruminative solitude, but I now believe that all along that was their intention - and they implemented it beautifully. Not once did they ask me with a sympathetic look if I wanted to be with people; not once did they suggest that being alone would make me feel worse; and not once did they make it obvious that they knew that this was the best thing for me and that my decision to want to go home was clearly the worse option. They merely seemed to sympathize with the torment that was going through my mind and quelled that torment with compassion and love; a love which from the eyes of an ordinary observer may have appeared nonexistent, but which I know in my heart was overwhelmingly present.
G.I. Joe actually turned out to be not too bad of a flick. Coach's wife told me that they wanted to see something else - something more happy - but no better option was playing at that theater (one of the other options was a movie about a tsunami... - but we had already seen it anyway :) ). As we sat in the theater eating our popsicles and waiting for the movie to start, I turned to them and thanked them for taking me out. "I know I said I wanted to go home, and I did. I didn't want to bum you guys out, because I knew I wasn't going to be in the best mood tonight. But I'm very thankful that you took me to dinner, and to this movie. I'm hardly thinking about it, and I already feel much better. So thank you, very much. I really appreciate it." They nodded, smiled, and briefly acknowledged their actions. And then I moved onto another topic of conversation.
As the movie ended and I stood up out of my seat, I realized that my foot was in a decent amount of pain. I had put a few bandaids on my ankle and my toe before dinner so I knew there were minor injuries, but my toe started to feel like it was broken. I limped out of the theater, and saw Coach limping as well (apparently he sustained a minor injury as well as he was running down the cliff). I told them that I thought I might have broken my toe, and took off my shoe to see the damage. Sure enough, it was purple and swollen. So they decided to take me to a hospital before going home.
The hospital fees ended up being much more expensive during extended hours, so after telling him that I was fine until morning, we left, and decided that I would call my school and tell them that I was going to come in late the next day so I could go to the hospital first thing. (I didn't have class anyway so all I would be skipping was fulfilling my contract for being at school for a certain amount of days per semester.) Coach told me to contact him in the morning so we could go to the hospital together.
The next morning, we met at 9:20a near his home. I of course thought we would be going straight to the hospital, because he told me that they opened at 9:30a. However, as we started walking together, he told me that before going to the hospital, he wanted to take me to the firestation to report my brave act. I was a little nervous, because I had already cried a few times that morning, and I knew that if I heard the story again (even if it was in Korean) I would start crying yet again, and I didn't want my Coach to think badly of me for not being able to contain my emotions. But of course, I consented.
We arrived at the fire station, and took a seat. Coach barely got out the words "yesterday, Igidae Park, middle school student", and tears started flowing. However, I tried my best to maintain some sort of composure, and made it through re-living the scene with a steady one-tear-per-cheek, with constant hand-grazing near the tear ducts. He told them the basics, and after he was finished, a few firemen escorted us to another room on the second floor. I regained my composure as we met some new Korean faces who had not yet seen my overt display of emotions, hoping to keep it that way. But yet agian, he told the story, in more detail, and with the back and forth glances from four firemen, a few tears forced themselves past my weak barrier of composure.
Luckily, two of the firemen were periodically interrupting Coach's flow with questions and comments. "Yea, we heard he was a 3rd grade middle student" (about 9th grade in the States). "We had heard that a foreigner jumped in after him, but the onlookers thought she was Russian." (All of this, of course, in Korean - and thus I can't say that my translations were perfect, but definitely the right gist.) They finished up talking, tried to talk to me a bit but with their English skills almost non-existent and my Korean skills, as much of my other mental capacities, paralyzed, I was not able to directly interact much with the firemen. However, before we left, they looked me right in the eye, and said what my eyes and heart know to be some version of, "We thank you so much for your bravery." After a few more words with Coach, they shook our hands, and we set off for the hospital.
Our destination was the same hospital that treated me for my burns. 'Great,' I thought. 'They're going to think I'm a psycho.' But, not as psycho as the doctor who treated me for my broken fingers would have assessed, because 3 broken digits in 7 months is pretty special, especially for a foreigner. However, fortunately, the x-rays were clean; only a contusion. (HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF). Strangely enough, I wasn't nearly as concerned about breaking my toe as I had been about breaking my fingers, even though it would have been more dehabilitating. True, breaking a toe as a result of stupidity would have made me very frustrated, but the fact that this injury was now directly related in my mind with the catastrophe of losing a life, it wouldn't have phased me as much. I realize I would have lost probably another few weeks from IM training, but in the grand scheme of things, I would still be able to race, even if I was in the worst shape of my life. Moreso, I don't think my subconscious would ever let me feel frustrated or upset about the fact that I was minorly injured trying to save someone's life. I believe that sort frustration just does not exist.
It seems that Coach appreciated my actions more than he could put into words, because he politely insisted on paying for both the doctor's fee as well as the medicine, which was a bit humbling, but of course appreciated. As he was driving me to the bus stop (for I had to go back to school to sit at my desk), he said, "On behalf of Korean people, I thank you."
Because this entry (Part II) was divided up into three sittings, I feel that I wasn't able to convey the atmoshpere of love that surrounded me within those eventful 21 hours to the best of my ability. And as I am tired, hungry, and anxious to get started on the things that I have been putting back in order to finish this entry, I'm not going to attempt a particularly noteworthy sum-up at this point (don't get me wrong - putting all of this into writing has really helped me deal with the situation, but it is exhausting all the same). But in my heart and in my soul, I will never forget the love that enveloped me, that introduced me to feelings and knowledge of new, and for that I will always be able to look upon this experience knowing that faith can be found in the most seeminlgy-abysmal places, and can be found to guide a heavy heart out of despair, and to realize the conquering power of the heart.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Unfortunate Circumstances Part I: The Incident
I had hoped that this post would be focused on the amazing weekend that our team had at the National Marine Sports Festival in Tongyeong, followed by a very nice respite on Geoje Island (the most beautiful place I have ever been), but alas - life had other plans, an experience which puts that albeit-wonderful experience in the backseat for storytelling-prominence.
Sunday, August 9th. We arrived in Busan from the weekend trip with spirits high. The athletes, Coaches, and some of the parents convened in a restaurant perfect for nurturing such spirits, for the food is absolutely divine. After eating and celebrating, the kids departed with their families, and I left with my Korean family to get ready for my Sunday open water swim.
Before swimming, a few of us went for a coffee by Gwangali Beach to sit and relax. The wind was abnormally strong, which was reinforced by the fact that the lifeguards at Gwangali came on the loudspeaker on two separate occasions to call people out of the water (personally, I don't think that complete evacuation was necessary, but when dealing with big waves and varying degrees of swimmers I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry). Luckily for me, my open water swim (OWS) was destined for Igidae Park, where the cautionary notices are merely visual, hence more open to interpretation.
On our way to Igidae, Coach reinforced the safety-first principle, and said that we have to take a look at the waves before deciding if swimming is safe. Although the waves were pretty big, I had swum in somewhat comparable waves the weekend before, and we agreed that my swimming ability could battle anything that the ocean had to offer me that day (take note of the singular.)
Today, instead of swimming back and forth in a selected inlet-area of choice, we decided that it would be more interesting to swim from point A to point B. So I started out at point A, the coast's first inlet, where many people were sitting and enjoying the waves in the shallow water, and swam perpendicularly for about 50 meters to get out of the way of the peripheral rocks. That 50 meters was much more difficult than the main leg (parallel to shore) as I caught a few developed crests smack on, but nothing a little salt-water-digestion can't fix.
After about 15 minutes, I completed the first horizontal-leg of my journey, and noticed Coach calling me into shore. This particular inlet was more crowded with rocks than point A, and although I have swum in that area before, the waves were so large that I had to pay close attention to where I was swimming and where the waves were taking me. The short perpendicular distance from ocean to shore was significantly more challenging that the opposite, because of the force of the waves was not directing me towards shore. In any case, it was no problem, and although Coach decided to cut my party short, I still had fun for the 18 or so minutes that I was out there, learning new tactics for open water swimming and enjoying the extra ride of the waves.
I exited the water and after dealing with a reprimand from an onlooker and many...looks...we headed back towards point A. As we got closer to the inlet, we saw some kids playing in the water (normal). However, after what seemed to be a few seconds, that 'few' that I saw (or envisioned that I saw) quickly became 'one', and the action no longer seemed to be 'playing.' Coach saw it too and while I started saying something like 'I think he needs help', Coach didn't seem to be listening, and we both started running down the cliff as quickly as we could (keeping safety in mind, of course).
Normal progressions must happen at an exponential speed when there are big waves, because it seemed that it was quite a short time between he and his friends playing in the water and his body to cease moving independently. As I climbed down to the shore, he was still moving, although his head was going under more frequently and while above water, remaining there for fewer seconds. The situation was becoming visibly more and more dire by the second, as I could tell from Coach's voice as I was climbing down, so I threw my jacket and all of its contents (goggles, cap, etc), to better utilize my hands. But as I threw off my shoes and attached the board to my ankle and prepared to dive in goggle-less, Coach was yelling at me, "Catie! You need your goggles! Where are your goggles?" Stupidly, I had chucked them down the cliff, not knowing exactly where, and, having known that, knew that although my attempt would be much more effective with goggles, I also knew that since we had now hit the point where the boy has stopped moving, every second was precious, and searching for the goggles would take away 10 or 15 possible moments towards saving him.
However, I listened to Coach, and got my goggles, and dove into a patch of white water. My experience freaking out in triathlon OWS (open water swims) for 5 years suddenly came in handy, because I was in a similar experience now - my heart thrashing, breathing labored -but had come to know this feeling well and knew I could conquer it. I sighted the body, and got there within what seemed to be a few strokes. I can't quite remember my emotional status and I instinctively placed his head under my arm (if I were asked to show at this moment what I did I might not remember exactly - I guess my past lifeguarding experience left a good impression), for now the board was useless since he no longer had independent movement of his limbs.
Although I wasn't making a plan in my head as I ran down, I can tell you that, if presented with the situation on paper (which obviously is not relevent here) I would never have advised someone to take a victim to slippery, sharp rocks as a substitute for land in order to try and save his life. But, unfortunately my ADHD mind was paralyzed from the moment I detected distress and was transformed into a completely one-track thought process: a fellow human-being is in trouble and I can help him - I must get there as soon as possible. Subconsciously, I knew that I had the skill to help this boy, and that my confidence (in my OWS) combined with a situation that was not overly dangerous in my assessment (made with what I believe to be a rational mind), left me with no conflicting emotions about whether or not to act. However, it removed my ability to think critically about the situation (which I'm sure is something that psychologists say happens to most people, and I'm not disputing it), and while I believe that my subconscious, pre-contact with the body, would have directed me towards shore, post-contact was a whole different situation.
His head is in my arms. A rock is within a few meters. At this point, with the waves seeming to come more frequently since the moment of contact, the shore seemed like a blur. We are surrounded by white water, and while I feel I am in control (or rather not out of control), I am infused with the belief that I can hoist him up onto the nearby rock (which could only at best be a brief intermediate safety zone), from which I would have to quickly transfer him (with an assumed helping hand) to a higher, more stable, less slippery rock, for this rock's budding surface was totally at the mercy of each crashing wave. But all of this 'reasoning' was interrupted by a crash, and a subsequent pulling force, which sucked the boy from under my arms. A bit frustrated but not much phased, I shook it off, and went after him again. Again he went under my arm, and with my 'reasoning' still resonating with possible success, I repeated the attempt. However, the next wave was not so forgiving, and not only tore him from my grasp, but also threw me tumbling into an extremely precarious situation.
Strangely, though, precariousness is not at all reflective of how I felt. I mean, for certain, I now felt the first feeling of being unsafe, but my thought process remained one-tracked and clear, and calm, and strategic. 'Shiiiiit. Ok you are no longer vertical. There are many rocks around you. Any second now you might feel a blow to your head, or leg, or arm, and if it is your head, you might only have a second to react, if any at all. Should I relax my body?' That last thought entered my head because I am under the impression that if your muscles are less tense, at least during a car crash, you are less apt to sustain more serious injury - I believe there is a statistic where people who are drunk (e.g. drunk drivers) often don't get as injured as their sober counterparts, sadly enough. Maybe I'm wrong, but in any case, as that thought started to develop, I felt a breeze on my face, and heard my Coach yelling at me to forget about the boy and get out of the water.
I have to admit, at this point, I had stopped thinking about the boy, for as I opened my eyes, I saw a new obstacle: the waves decided to introduce me to a nearby cove by relocating me from one side of the rock to the other. As a nice surprise, this cove was omnipresent with white water, collecting only the best of the best of the waves' fury. After a few more seconds (a second being an amount of time that can harbor thoughts and feelings that could normally occur over hours) of uncertainty and dedication to getting a grip on the rock where my Coach's hand was extended, I thought, as you might, that climbing up out of water would be no problem - but the waves had a bit more experience to throw my way, and once again lured me back into the cove for one last bout of uncertainty. The feeling was so strange, because I wasn't afraid, but I wasn't confident that I would get back onto land. I was relatively calm, and confident that I would fight my best to get out of there. And that I did.
After the final pull of the ocean, I put my hand back on the mossy, shelly rock, grabbed Coach's hand, and pushed on my hand that was placed on the rock as to use as little pulling-in-the-direction-of-the-water motion as possible (my feet were useless as the waves made underwater-grippage extremely difficult). I got my torso out of the water and onto the rock, and quickly pushed the rest of my body onto the rock. And there, once my mind registered my body's safety, the thrashing of the waves transfered to my body, as I started convulsing in tears.
It's interesting to think about how your mind will function if you are ever in a situation like this one. Like I told my parents this morning as I told them the story, a few years ago, if the same situation happened and my actions were the same, I would probably have gone into the water hoping to be seen as brave - aka with selfish motives. But my train of thought and the way by body reacted to it amazes me - here I'm not talking about the going in trying to help him part, but the composure which my mind maintained in the face of possible...I don't want to say death, but maybe, 'rock-smackage', and how my thoughts immediately went from solely the boy's safety, none of my own, to solely that of my own, and then upon realizing my safety, a complete physical and emotional uncontrollable response to mourn the loss of a potential life saved.
I'm exhausted having come this far writing, although this post has not yet been accompanied by tears (perhaps because I'm not writing freely but trying to write somewhat well, which stalls my normal flood of emotions). But the rest of the story is less (although not devoid of) one of sorrow and pain than it is of friendship and love, so rest assured that lighter moods await in Part II.
Sunday, August 9th. We arrived in Busan from the weekend trip with spirits high. The athletes, Coaches, and some of the parents convened in a restaurant perfect for nurturing such spirits, for the food is absolutely divine. After eating and celebrating, the kids departed with their families, and I left with my Korean family to get ready for my Sunday open water swim.
Before swimming, a few of us went for a coffee by Gwangali Beach to sit and relax. The wind was abnormally strong, which was reinforced by the fact that the lifeguards at Gwangali came on the loudspeaker on two separate occasions to call people out of the water (personally, I don't think that complete evacuation was necessary, but when dealing with big waves and varying degrees of swimmers I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry). Luckily for me, my open water swim (OWS) was destined for Igidae Park, where the cautionary notices are merely visual, hence more open to interpretation.
On our way to Igidae, Coach reinforced the safety-first principle, and said that we have to take a look at the waves before deciding if swimming is safe. Although the waves were pretty big, I had swum in somewhat comparable waves the weekend before, and we agreed that my swimming ability could battle anything that the ocean had to offer me that day (take note of the singular.)
Today, instead of swimming back and forth in a selected inlet-area of choice, we decided that it would be more interesting to swim from point A to point B. So I started out at point A, the coast's first inlet, where many people were sitting and enjoying the waves in the shallow water, and swam perpendicularly for about 50 meters to get out of the way of the peripheral rocks. That 50 meters was much more difficult than the main leg (parallel to shore) as I caught a few developed crests smack on, but nothing a little salt-water-digestion can't fix.
After about 15 minutes, I completed the first horizontal-leg of my journey, and noticed Coach calling me into shore. This particular inlet was more crowded with rocks than point A, and although I have swum in that area before, the waves were so large that I had to pay close attention to where I was swimming and where the waves were taking me. The short perpendicular distance from ocean to shore was significantly more challenging that the opposite, because of the force of the waves was not directing me towards shore. In any case, it was no problem, and although Coach decided to cut my party short, I still had fun for the 18 or so minutes that I was out there, learning new tactics for open water swimming and enjoying the extra ride of the waves.
I exited the water and after dealing with a reprimand from an onlooker and many...looks...we headed back towards point A. As we got closer to the inlet, we saw some kids playing in the water (normal). However, after what seemed to be a few seconds, that 'few' that I saw (or envisioned that I saw) quickly became 'one', and the action no longer seemed to be 'playing.' Coach saw it too and while I started saying something like 'I think he needs help', Coach didn't seem to be listening, and we both started running down the cliff as quickly as we could (keeping safety in mind, of course).
Normal progressions must happen at an exponential speed when there are big waves, because it seemed that it was quite a short time between he and his friends playing in the water and his body to cease moving independently. As I climbed down to the shore, he was still moving, although his head was going under more frequently and while above water, remaining there for fewer seconds. The situation was becoming visibly more and more dire by the second, as I could tell from Coach's voice as I was climbing down, so I threw my jacket and all of its contents (goggles, cap, etc), to better utilize my hands. But as I threw off my shoes and attached the board to my ankle and prepared to dive in goggle-less, Coach was yelling at me, "Catie! You need your goggles! Where are your goggles?" Stupidly, I had chucked them down the cliff, not knowing exactly where, and, having known that, knew that although my attempt would be much more effective with goggles, I also knew that since we had now hit the point where the boy has stopped moving, every second was precious, and searching for the goggles would take away 10 or 15 possible moments towards saving him.
However, I listened to Coach, and got my goggles, and dove into a patch of white water. My experience freaking out in triathlon OWS (open water swims) for 5 years suddenly came in handy, because I was in a similar experience now - my heart thrashing, breathing labored -but had come to know this feeling well and knew I could conquer it. I sighted the body, and got there within what seemed to be a few strokes. I can't quite remember my emotional status and I instinctively placed his head under my arm (if I were asked to show at this moment what I did I might not remember exactly - I guess my past lifeguarding experience left a good impression), for now the board was useless since he no longer had independent movement of his limbs.
Although I wasn't making a plan in my head as I ran down, I can tell you that, if presented with the situation on paper (which obviously is not relevent here) I would never have advised someone to take a victim to slippery, sharp rocks as a substitute for land in order to try and save his life. But, unfortunately my ADHD mind was paralyzed from the moment I detected distress and was transformed into a completely one-track thought process: a fellow human-being is in trouble and I can help him - I must get there as soon as possible. Subconsciously, I knew that I had the skill to help this boy, and that my confidence (in my OWS) combined with a situation that was not overly dangerous in my assessment (made with what I believe to be a rational mind), left me with no conflicting emotions about whether or not to act. However, it removed my ability to think critically about the situation (which I'm sure is something that psychologists say happens to most people, and I'm not disputing it), and while I believe that my subconscious, pre-contact with the body, would have directed me towards shore, post-contact was a whole different situation.
His head is in my arms. A rock is within a few meters. At this point, with the waves seeming to come more frequently since the moment of contact, the shore seemed like a blur. We are surrounded by white water, and while I feel I am in control (or rather not out of control), I am infused with the belief that I can hoist him up onto the nearby rock (which could only at best be a brief intermediate safety zone), from which I would have to quickly transfer him (with an assumed helping hand) to a higher, more stable, less slippery rock, for this rock's budding surface was totally at the mercy of each crashing wave. But all of this 'reasoning' was interrupted by a crash, and a subsequent pulling force, which sucked the boy from under my arms. A bit frustrated but not much phased, I shook it off, and went after him again. Again he went under my arm, and with my 'reasoning' still resonating with possible success, I repeated the attempt. However, the next wave was not so forgiving, and not only tore him from my grasp, but also threw me tumbling into an extremely precarious situation.
Strangely, though, precariousness is not at all reflective of how I felt. I mean, for certain, I now felt the first feeling of being unsafe, but my thought process remained one-tracked and clear, and calm, and strategic. 'Shiiiiit. Ok you are no longer vertical. There are many rocks around you. Any second now you might feel a blow to your head, or leg, or arm, and if it is your head, you might only have a second to react, if any at all. Should I relax my body?' That last thought entered my head because I am under the impression that if your muscles are less tense, at least during a car crash, you are less apt to sustain more serious injury - I believe there is a statistic where people who are drunk (e.g. drunk drivers) often don't get as injured as their sober counterparts, sadly enough. Maybe I'm wrong, but in any case, as that thought started to develop, I felt a breeze on my face, and heard my Coach yelling at me to forget about the boy and get out of the water.
I have to admit, at this point, I had stopped thinking about the boy, for as I opened my eyes, I saw a new obstacle: the waves decided to introduce me to a nearby cove by relocating me from one side of the rock to the other. As a nice surprise, this cove was omnipresent with white water, collecting only the best of the best of the waves' fury. After a few more seconds (a second being an amount of time that can harbor thoughts and feelings that could normally occur over hours) of uncertainty and dedication to getting a grip on the rock where my Coach's hand was extended, I thought, as you might, that climbing up out of water would be no problem - but the waves had a bit more experience to throw my way, and once again lured me back into the cove for one last bout of uncertainty. The feeling was so strange, because I wasn't afraid, but I wasn't confident that I would get back onto land. I was relatively calm, and confident that I would fight my best to get out of there. And that I did.
After the final pull of the ocean, I put my hand back on the mossy, shelly rock, grabbed Coach's hand, and pushed on my hand that was placed on the rock as to use as little pulling-in-the-direction-of-the-water motion as possible (my feet were useless as the waves made underwater-grippage extremely difficult). I got my torso out of the water and onto the rock, and quickly pushed the rest of my body onto the rock. And there, once my mind registered my body's safety, the thrashing of the waves transfered to my body, as I started convulsing in tears.
It's interesting to think about how your mind will function if you are ever in a situation like this one. Like I told my parents this morning as I told them the story, a few years ago, if the same situation happened and my actions were the same, I would probably have gone into the water hoping to be seen as brave - aka with selfish motives. But my train of thought and the way by body reacted to it amazes me - here I'm not talking about the going in trying to help him part, but the composure which my mind maintained in the face of possible...I don't want to say death, but maybe, 'rock-smackage', and how my thoughts immediately went from solely the boy's safety, none of my own, to solely that of my own, and then upon realizing my safety, a complete physical and emotional uncontrollable response to mourn the loss of a potential life saved.
I'm exhausted having come this far writing, although this post has not yet been accompanied by tears (perhaps because I'm not writing freely but trying to write somewhat well, which stalls my normal flood of emotions). But the rest of the story is less (although not devoid of) one of sorrow and pain than it is of friendship and love, so rest assured that lighter moods await in Part II.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Days Winding Down
Ugh. So sad.
Especially since this Sunday was one of the most amazing normal Sundays of my life.
After resting all day Saturday (watched-5-movies resting, so like super legit did nothing except relaxed and caught up on popular culture), I arrived at the Yacht Club with a warm welcome from a magnificent day. We did an easy cycling warm up for about 30 minutes, and then did a team ocean-swim, which was fantastic. This was the first team ocean swim (like everyone together - we had done OWS (open water swim) with a few of the kids before, but usually only the ones who were going to be racing soon. So this was nice to be able to do it with everyone.
After that, we did a cool down on the bike (everything was at the Yacht Club), and set out for an amazing afternoon. Coach and fam and I went to Igidae (the natural love of my life) for the best open water swimming I have ever experienced, thanks partially to the amazing weather, partially to the big waves, and partially to the genius of Total Immersion (if you are a swimming or swimmer-aspirant I highly highly recommend checking out Terry Laughlin's books / DVDs - it is the best money I have spent in the sports market). I'm not even going to try and go into how amazing this swim was because I have studying to do and I don't have time to be sucked into a profession of my naked soul, which could turn into a mini epic (that right there should tell you that it was an experience I will never forget).
After swimming, we hung out at Igidae for a bit, and then went back to the house. I was exhausted, likely from a mixture of sun and elation, so I nearly laid down for a snooze. But as I've been progressively learning, older siblings don't have nearly as much quiet time as younger siblings or only childs (I'm not complaining about this at all though - because I love Coach's son as if he were truly my brother - just stating an observation :) ). While I could have gone into another room to rest, I decided to muster up my remaining energy to attempt to play Jacks - which didn't work out too well as my body was mostly horizontal in my attempt. We next decided to write some stories. He went on to write a story about a king - I think the title of his story was "King's Poker" (very creative I thought), and I went on to write a story about "사람은 파랑색 구두가 있습니다 (a man has blue shoes)". I got to 1/2 way into the first sentence and figured out that my desired expressions were too complicated in my soon-to-be second language, so I started writing random sentences. They actually were somewhat reminiscent of some of my previous blogs in the sense that they are completely stream-of-consciousness (although I'm not sure if people with ADD, or similar symptoms, should be allowed to write in stream-of-consciousness...). But anyway - in my tired state, little bro got a kick out of my 'story.'
After that debacle, we watched some Simpsons, which was fun! I haven't watched much of that show. One of the episodes was mediocre, but the second was actually really entertaining - we had fun watching them. A bit after that, we left to eat at one of my favorite restaurants for 오리불고기 (duck) and 시래기 (dried radish leaves soup-ish thing - soooo good).
This particular dinner was a very interesting cultural experience. For the first time since I have been in Korea, there was a very loud group of people at a table in the restaurant. Surprisingly, I didn't notive it at first, probably because I was drained from the awesome day. But I did hear the waitress tell them to be quieter, which I had never heard a waitress say to a customer before. But a few seconds after, I could tell something was off by the looks on Coach and Coach's wife's expressions. Apparently the men were not only being loud but using bad language too, and I saw a few of the other customers get up from their tables to come around the corner to stare at the men making all of the noise. Apparently that is very rude in this country, which makes sense, because overall this country seems to be quite representative of it's English nickname "The Land of the Morning Calm". When the men left, I was able to greater appreciate the calm atmosphere that the general Korean ambiance is generally comprised of, and I have to say, it was a wonderful reminder. As a tangent thought, in homely restaurants like that one (particularly when most of the tables are low to the ground with no chairs), it almost feels like you are eating a meal with your extended family (assuming the unorthodox behavior is absent).
Anyway. Before getting back to my Korean studies, I want to briefly comment on a few movies that I saw this weekend while resting.
Phantom of the Opera - awesome movie. If you haven't already seen it and don't loathe musicals (and if you haven't seen a movie musical other than Mamma Mia your opinion doesn't count because it is by-no-fault-of-your-own tainted (not to say Mamma Mia was horrible but it's certainly not a classic)) I would highly suggest renting it - very very good movie-musical.
Mystic River - now one of my favorite movies. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Sean Penn is an amazing actor. As is Tim Robbins.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang - I saw this a few weeks ago actually but it was so good that it stuck in my mind. If you don't like thrillers, then forget it. But, Robert Downey Jr. and Val Kilmer make a fantastic pair, and are both quite funny. (Yup, you heard me right - Val Kilmer and funny was used in the same sentence. Actually more accurate is hilarious. My favorite Val Kilmer performance, and Top Gun is one of my favorite movies.)
Oh man, no time. Alright - well, I hope I was able to enrich some of your theatrical educations. :D Off to study!
Especially since this Sunday was one of the most amazing normal Sundays of my life.
After resting all day Saturday (watched-5-movies resting, so like super legit did nothing except relaxed and caught up on popular culture), I arrived at the Yacht Club with a warm welcome from a magnificent day. We did an easy cycling warm up for about 30 minutes, and then did a team ocean-swim, which was fantastic. This was the first team ocean swim (like everyone together - we had done OWS (open water swim) with a few of the kids before, but usually only the ones who were going to be racing soon. So this was nice to be able to do it with everyone.
After that, we did a cool down on the bike (everything was at the Yacht Club), and set out for an amazing afternoon. Coach and fam and I went to Igidae (the natural love of my life) for the best open water swimming I have ever experienced, thanks partially to the amazing weather, partially to the big waves, and partially to the genius of Total Immersion (if you are a swimming or swimmer-aspirant I highly highly recommend checking out Terry Laughlin's books / DVDs - it is the best money I have spent in the sports market). I'm not even going to try and go into how amazing this swim was because I have studying to do and I don't have time to be sucked into a profession of my naked soul, which could turn into a mini epic (that right there should tell you that it was an experience I will never forget).
After swimming, we hung out at Igidae for a bit, and then went back to the house. I was exhausted, likely from a mixture of sun and elation, so I nearly laid down for a snooze. But as I've been progressively learning, older siblings don't have nearly as much quiet time as younger siblings or only childs (I'm not complaining about this at all though - because I love Coach's son as if he were truly my brother - just stating an observation :) ). While I could have gone into another room to rest, I decided to muster up my remaining energy to attempt to play Jacks - which didn't work out too well as my body was mostly horizontal in my attempt. We next decided to write some stories. He went on to write a story about a king - I think the title of his story was "King's Poker" (very creative I thought), and I went on to write a story about "사람은 파랑색 구두가 있습니다 (a man has blue shoes)". I got to 1/2 way into the first sentence and figured out that my desired expressions were too complicated in my soon-to-be second language, so I started writing random sentences. They actually were somewhat reminiscent of some of my previous blogs in the sense that they are completely stream-of-consciousness (although I'm not sure if people with ADD, or similar symptoms, should be allowed to write in stream-of-consciousness...). But anyway - in my tired state, little bro got a kick out of my 'story.'
After that debacle, we watched some Simpsons, which was fun! I haven't watched much of that show. One of the episodes was mediocre, but the second was actually really entertaining - we had fun watching them. A bit after that, we left to eat at one of my favorite restaurants for 오리불고기 (duck) and 시래기 (dried radish leaves soup-ish thing - soooo good).
This particular dinner was a very interesting cultural experience. For the first time since I have been in Korea, there was a very loud group of people at a table in the restaurant. Surprisingly, I didn't notive it at first, probably because I was drained from the awesome day. But I did hear the waitress tell them to be quieter, which I had never heard a waitress say to a customer before. But a few seconds after, I could tell something was off by the looks on Coach and Coach's wife's expressions. Apparently the men were not only being loud but using bad language too, and I saw a few of the other customers get up from their tables to come around the corner to stare at the men making all of the noise. Apparently that is very rude in this country, which makes sense, because overall this country seems to be quite representative of it's English nickname "The Land of the Morning Calm". When the men left, I was able to greater appreciate the calm atmosphere that the general Korean ambiance is generally comprised of, and I have to say, it was a wonderful reminder. As a tangent thought, in homely restaurants like that one (particularly when most of the tables are low to the ground with no chairs), it almost feels like you are eating a meal with your extended family (assuming the unorthodox behavior is absent).
Anyway. Before getting back to my Korean studies, I want to briefly comment on a few movies that I saw this weekend while resting.
Phantom of the Opera - awesome movie. If you haven't already seen it and don't loathe musicals (and if you haven't seen a movie musical other than Mamma Mia your opinion doesn't count because it is by-no-fault-of-your-own tainted (not to say Mamma Mia was horrible but it's certainly not a classic)) I would highly suggest renting it - very very good movie-musical.
Mystic River - now one of my favorite movies. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Sean Penn is an amazing actor. As is Tim Robbins.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang - I saw this a few weeks ago actually but it was so good that it stuck in my mind. If you don't like thrillers, then forget it. But, Robert Downey Jr. and Val Kilmer make a fantastic pair, and are both quite funny. (Yup, you heard me right - Val Kilmer and funny was used in the same sentence. Actually more accurate is hilarious. My favorite Val Kilmer performance, and Top Gun is one of my favorite movies.)
Oh man, no time. Alright - well, I hope I was able to enrich some of your theatrical educations. :D Off to study!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
46 More Days
I really need to start taking more pictures...
Forty-six more days until I go to the States. I'm both psyched and uneasy about this. I'm of course super psyched to see my fam and friends, but there are certain elements of The Land of the Morning Calm that I have grown to love and which have come to serve as a great respite. But nothing lasts forever, and the future (at least for me) is and always will be uncertain, so I'm not going to dwell on anything just yet.
At the moment I am preparing to watch Dr. No, or Bond #1. I'm very interested to know how I will like it; I've always shyed away from the Bond movies because I think I saw part of Goldeneye at a strange time in my life and always associated that one experience with all Bond movies and thus concluded that I would never choose to watch them at liberty. However, recently I feel that I should give them another shot.
Today I went to the Korean Office of Immigration to extend my visa, because many people in the EPIK program were put in the nonsensical situation of having our visas expire less than a month before our contract is up. To make this situation even more absurd, we are technically required to pay 30,000 won in order to extend our visa if the extention is for purposes of working, whereas if the extention was for sightseeing, there would be no fee. !!! Luckily the woman there liked my co teacher and I got out of that situation, but honestly...I see no sense in that situation. EPIK really should make an arrangement with the government such that our visas can expire the last day of our contract, which for each bunch of new teachers who come over each semester, is usually the same day.
Enough whining.
Oh, and I want to share this quote with you that I saw on beginnertriathlete.com while reading a forum about freaky things that happen at pools (I have a lot more free time now that I am officially benched for '3-6 weeks'...if I had only listened to the sense in myself and strength trained like a smart athlete this wouldn't have happened!) and I though it was fantastic:
"Practice doesn't make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. Crap practice only makes
you a crapmaster." Mark Fleischman
Although I believe the first two sentences should be attributed to Vince Lombardi.
Anyways. Keep that in mind when you are practicing next time.
Although it would be pretty cool to be able to say that you are a crapmaster.
Forty-six more days until I go to the States. I'm both psyched and uneasy about this. I'm of course super psyched to see my fam and friends, but there are certain elements of The Land of the Morning Calm that I have grown to love and which have come to serve as a great respite. But nothing lasts forever, and the future (at least for me) is and always will be uncertain, so I'm not going to dwell on anything just yet.
At the moment I am preparing to watch Dr. No, or Bond #1. I'm very interested to know how I will like it; I've always shyed away from the Bond movies because I think I saw part of Goldeneye at a strange time in my life and always associated that one experience with all Bond movies and thus concluded that I would never choose to watch them at liberty. However, recently I feel that I should give them another shot.
Today I went to the Korean Office of Immigration to extend my visa, because many people in the EPIK program were put in the nonsensical situation of having our visas expire less than a month before our contract is up. To make this situation even more absurd, we are technically required to pay 30,000 won in order to extend our visa if the extention is for purposes of working, whereas if the extention was for sightseeing, there would be no fee. !!! Luckily the woman there liked my co teacher and I got out of that situation, but honestly...I see no sense in that situation. EPIK really should make an arrangement with the government such that our visas can expire the last day of our contract, which for each bunch of new teachers who come over each semester, is usually the same day.
Enough whining.
Oh, and I want to share this quote with you that I saw on beginnertriathlete.com while reading a forum about freaky things that happen at pools (I have a lot more free time now that I am officially benched for '3-6 weeks'...if I had only listened to the sense in myself and strength trained like a smart athlete this wouldn't have happened!) and I though it was fantastic:
"Practice doesn't make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. Crap practice only makes
you a crapmaster." Mark Fleischman
Although I believe the first two sentences should be attributed to Vince Lombardi.
Anyways. Keep that in mind when you are practicing next time.
Although it would be pretty cool to be able to say that you are a crapmaster.
Friday, July 3, 2009
I Can't Believe It's Already July!
I can't believe it's been a whole month since I last posted. Time is going by so fast.
Since early June, a lot has happened, but in the extreme tightness of time I'm only going to attempt to recall a few, one being the move.
With a little over 2 months to go, my school decided to move me from my old apartment to a different, better, more comfortable one. The move itself was of course a big hassle, and it took me out of commission for a few days (especially since during the move I was in the middle of a minor-ish injury which packing and moving all of my stuff up 4 flights of stairs did not alleviate), but now I am a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that it is about half of the size of my old apartment. It is soo much more quiet here - I almost fell asleep unpacking my first night! It's wonderful.
The only 'downfall' is that I have to take a bus to school every morning. I actually love riding the bus, and it takes about the same amount of time to get to school in the morning as it did walking from my old apartment, but I do have to pay, but it is definitely worth it for me. I'm even within walking distance from PNU so I have much better access to great running routes and a track, which I am pumped about.
Other than the move, I've been enduring a minor injury which I could easily run through, but I am concerned that it will get worse and put me out for much longer. So I have been postponing the scheduled 10 x 800m track workout which I was supposed to do a week and a half ago. Coach wants me to try and hit 3:00 - 3:05 (he is thinking more towards the low end, and I am hoping, but I'd rather set a reachable goal and be pleasantly surprised at this point in my training). The last workout I did of 15 x 400m at 85s (that was the target and I hit an average of 84.2 which I was super excited about) was over 2 weeks ago and I am really eager to see how this one will turn out. I am hoping to hit it up tomorrow as long as my injury continues to subside well.
I bought my ticket to the States! August 31. So...that's exciting! I'm not sure exactly what is going to happen after I get back. There is a good chance I might have a job in Korea after I do Kona and my sister's wedding (!), but I'm not completely sure. I kind of like not knowing though. Everything will work out, I'm confident.
And with that, I have to get back to stretching and resting. All those of you who may be reading this from the States, hang in there with the rain! Maybe make the best of it by doing something fun like taking a shower outside (with a bathing suit on:) ). That would probably be really interesting!
Since early June, a lot has happened, but in the extreme tightness of time I'm only going to attempt to recall a few, one being the move.
With a little over 2 months to go, my school decided to move me from my old apartment to a different, better, more comfortable one. The move itself was of course a big hassle, and it took me out of commission for a few days (especially since during the move I was in the middle of a minor-ish injury which packing and moving all of my stuff up 4 flights of stairs did not alleviate), but now I am a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that it is about half of the size of my old apartment. It is soo much more quiet here - I almost fell asleep unpacking my first night! It's wonderful.
The only 'downfall' is that I have to take a bus to school every morning. I actually love riding the bus, and it takes about the same amount of time to get to school in the morning as it did walking from my old apartment, but I do have to pay, but it is definitely worth it for me. I'm even within walking distance from PNU so I have much better access to great running routes and a track, which I am pumped about.
Other than the move, I've been enduring a minor injury which I could easily run through, but I am concerned that it will get worse and put me out for much longer. So I have been postponing the scheduled 10 x 800m track workout which I was supposed to do a week and a half ago. Coach wants me to try and hit 3:00 - 3:05 (he is thinking more towards the low end, and I am hoping, but I'd rather set a reachable goal and be pleasantly surprised at this point in my training). The last workout I did of 15 x 400m at 85s (that was the target and I hit an average of 84.2 which I was super excited about) was over 2 weeks ago and I am really eager to see how this one will turn out. I am hoping to hit it up tomorrow as long as my injury continues to subside well.
I bought my ticket to the States! August 31. So...that's exciting! I'm not sure exactly what is going to happen after I get back. There is a good chance I might have a job in Korea after I do Kona and my sister's wedding (!), but I'm not completely sure. I kind of like not knowing though. Everything will work out, I'm confident.
And with that, I have to get back to stretching and resting. All those of you who may be reading this from the States, hang in there with the rain! Maybe make the best of it by doing something fun like taking a shower outside (with a bathing suit on:) ). That would probably be really interesting!
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