Koryan: September 2009

Running

I'm not sure what it is about running that I like so much. I like the time alone with my thoughts, but I get plenty of that elsewhere too. I like pushing myself, and that's certainly something I do in various aspects of my life. I like the goal-oriented nature of running, and I like the feeling I have when I finish a hard run. But what I really like about running is something that's hard to pin down. I just feel good when I run, more awake and more aware. It's something that I don't get in other areas of my life--including other kinds of exercise. I sometimes think of running as therapy, but I'm not sure why.

I suppose I first got interested in running when I was in elementary school. I've always been okay at sports, but I was never a superstar. I've always been far better at exercise that I have at sports. When we'd run the mile in school, I always led the pack. I wasn't ever a stand-out in baseball or basketball or soccer. And that's probably why I joined the cross country team when I was in sixth grade, and probably why I continued with the team for the next couple years even after I tried and quit baseball, basketball, and wrestling.

During high school, I ran track, but I didn't run cross country. I chose football instead, which is a decision that I'm still not sure was the right one.

I didn't get back into long distance running again until college, when I started doing 10k's with my Uncle Scott. I had a good time and did okay, but I was never great. I hurt my knee running in a race after a year or so, and since I had no insurance, I wasn't able to ever really find out what the problem was. That's when I got into biking (which didn't hurt my knee) and forgot about running entirely.

I started running again seriously about a year ago. A doctor here helped me figure out what the problem with my knee was. Through exercise, stretching, and building up my legs on the treadmill, I was able to start running on the road in early August 2008. It wasn't long before I remembered why I liked to run. I felt stronger, and happier, and more alive. Because of the running (and some change in diet), I took off all of the weight I had gained since coming to Korea (nearly 30 pounds). What started as just a few kilometers for exercise became more and more. I ran my first race since starting back in March and have run a race every month or so since then, including a sprint triathlon (one of the hardest things I've ever done) last July.

My next race is October 11th, the day after I have to take the GRE Subject Test. It's a 10k, and I'm hoping to get my best time since I was in college (just under 40 minutes is the fastest I've ever run a 10k. My goal this time around is about 42 minutes--I'm getting closer). Then it's on to a half marathon in November and maybe a full marathon in the spring. I don't want to become a marathon runner, and I'd prefer to stick with 10k's, but I'd like to stay that I've done it once. Running long distances puts a lot of strain on your body, and I'm just as happy running 5 kilometers as I am running 25, so I don't see the point after I've done it once.

Regardless, running has been, is, and will be a part of my life for a long time. It's something I look forward to, dread, enjoy, and push through. It's something that makes me who I am.

R

Time

I've been living in Korea for over 5 years now. I've had times when I've loved it and times when I've hated it. Obviously the good times have outweighed the bad or I wouldn't have stayed here this long. I met my wife here. I got married here. I've met great people and made great friends. When I think of how good I have it at my job, I find it hard to imagine any reason why I'd want to leave.

But I do. Finally, I do.

I hadn't had any strong desire to go back to the United States until fairly recently. I'm not sure when it came upon me, but it snuck up somewhere in the last year. I began to have an inkling when I started looking at universities for my PhD, but as many university websites as I looked at and as many emails as I sent, it all still felt very far away.

When I was actually back in the States this summer, I felt more comfortable there than I had on previous visits. I had missed the food, missed the people, and just missed speaking in English. It's odd to me that I had overlooked how much I missed these things before. The feeling was there, but it wasn't as present or instinctual as it felt on this trip. And when Hye Sook met up with me in Phoenix and came with me on to Pittsburgh, I knew that we'd be great in the United States. The feeling became clearer but still felt far away.

Really, the real momentum of going back didn't hit me until the last few days. Last Friday, I submitted the first round of paperwork for Hye Sook's residency visa (her green card). Tomorrow, the universities that I want to apply to begin taking applications. I've been preparing materials since I got back to Korea, and the thought of actually turning them in feels very good. It feels like there is movement in my life where previously there was none--like I'm moving toward something instead of just moving with something.

I'm scared too, certainly. I'm scared that my applications will get rejected. I'm scared that Hye Sook's visa won't go through. I'm scared about finding an apartment, a job, enough money to get by. I'm scared in a way that I haven't felt since I came to Korea, and that's exciting.

This is odd, but I'm also scared that I've forgotten some things. When I was back in the States, I found myself mentally asking myself, "Do Americans do this?" My own culture had become visible to me, and I had to view it, whereas in the past is was invisible. I've become so used to observing culture and trying to emulate it to fit in that I can't even turn it off when I'm in my own culture. I'll be able to turn it off again at some point, I'm sure, but it's an odd feeling to feel like a foreigner in your own home town.

I'm worried that I'm going to come back from Korea a jerk. Someone dropped something in front of me today, and I didn't stop to pick it up for him. It's simple, sure, but back home I know I would have done it. Here, I don't. It's something Korean culture has turned off in me (Koreans don't do it, and it's odd for them if I do). I've got to get used to holding doors open again. I have to relearn to say "excuse me" when I bump into people. I have to relearn to keep eye contact.

But I also have to unlearn bowing, leaving a silence after a question is asked to me, and the closer sense of personal space.

When I leave, I'll be leaving a lot of good things behind. Luckily, the best thing that I've found, Hye Sook, gets to come with me, and luckily, I'll get to keep the memories until my brain turns to mush, but there's still a feeling of lose--a feeling that I'll miss as a country I've grown to love really grows and changes into something greater than it is.

But, I suppose, that's also something I've been missing about the US for the last five years. It's time to go back.

R

Pictures of the United States Trip

These have been a long time coming. I kept forgetting to post them, but here they are. Enjoy!

R

I can't even remember what they were laughing about.

The four of us siblings in the same place at the same time for the first time in at least 2 and a half years.

Joel after saying something funny that Danielle didn't approve of.

Tater (and Alissa)

Danielle, Uncle Scott and I after finishing the triathlon.

Boo with the stand-in for Hye Sook. Since Hye Sook couldn't come along for most of the trip, I decided to take pictures of this stuffed anteater in her place.

R