It was hot. My clothes were sopping wet; sweat dripping from every edge and angle of my body. My carefully applied sunscreen was melting off and running into my eyes, shorts and shoes. We were back in Geoje, and the 2018 Bada-ro Saegye-ro race had not even started yet!
The Bada-ro Saegye-ro race was the same – and totally different. It was on the same mountainous island in Korea’s far south as the Geoje Jimaek race – and thus, very far away. This race was organized by the same team that had put together the May race. Both races were sunny and hot.
But that’s where the similarities end. One race broke my heart; the other filled it.
The 2018 Bada-ro Saegye-ro race was located in Hallyeohaesang National Park (한려해상국립공원). There were two distances on offer: a 42 kilometer event (later changed to 33 kilometers) and a 12 kilometer sprint. Unusually for us, we had opted for the 12k! There were several reasons behind our choice, not least among them that this would offer us a completely unique physical test. The shorter distance and late afternoon start time felt fresh. And this would be the first time that I’d truly be challenging myself at this distance – running full-out, as fast as I could go for 12k.
Although the travel time was just as long as it had been in May, this time we’d be heading south during the day rather than driving all night long. And we’d be traveling with friends! While we always love meeting up with and hanging out with friends before and after races, we’d never traveled to one together. So that was new, and so were our friends! We’d never actually met the pair we agreed to drive down with – but as the only foreigners in the race, we thought we’d better stick together.
Although the drive was slow going in the busy weekend traffic, the time passed quickly. We laughed and chatted, getting to know one another. We took snack break stops and listened to music and took turns dozing off. The unusual 4 pm start time was discussed, as was the question of what we should eat beforehand!
Our new friends had a room in a pension above the beach, right on the Bada-ro Saegye race course! As they sorted out parking, Kent and I cheered on 33k racers running downhill towards the finish and took pictures with some of the course markings.
After check in, Kent and I quickly changed in the beach bathrooms, then headed off for a warm up: the first of its kind! I’ve been to so many road races where I’ve stood around nervously, watching other runners do laps nearby. I always marveled at these people that I assumed must be elites, adding extra kilometers onto their race. I was curious about why they did what they did, but not quite enough to try it for myself.
Until now. This 20 minute workout was designed and assigned by my coach. I was going to join the ranks of the warm-up crowd! And I found that I already knew the answer to why this warm up was necessary. I’ve recognized over the years that my body, like my heart, takes a long time to really warm up. So, alongside Kent, we ran before the race: little loops of a crowded parking lot under the blistering sun.
It felt slightly mad, sweating up a storm and racking up a full extra quarter of the race distance. Still, even as I laughed over what must have looked strange, I could feel it working. All of my systems were coming online in running mode: my body and mind were truly warming up for the event ahead.
Somehow, we managed to time our warm-up perfectly. We ran back to the beach just as the assembled runners were completing a short stretching exercise. I chatted with our new friends, casually sipping my lemonade – thinking I had plenty of time to get prepared for the start. But suddenly, we were being herded towards the starting arch. I assumed it was for a group photo or an inspirational speech, so I was completely unprepared when they began counting down!
And we were off, five minutes earlier than expected! My watch wasn’t ready, but I found that I was. Earlier, Kent and I had agreed to have a little race within the race, and he’d gotten off to a faster start. I raced after him as fast as I could.
The Bada-ro Saegye-ro race did not mess around, and was climbing steeply uphill within minutes. Luckily, this is what we love. I could see Kent ahead of me, climbing relentlessly. It was time to push myself harder. My heart pounding in my throat, arms pumping and sweat flying in every direction, I began to pass people. Some had slowed to a walk on this big hill, possibly conserving their energy for the rest of the race. But I had to go!
The sun beat down mercilessly as we rounded a bend and kept on climbing. The half dozen or so runners I could see in front of me kept weaving back and forth across the road. They were seeking shelter in the few centimeters of shade offered by trees at the margins of the road. The climb did not go on forever. It leveled out just after we passed a guard booth. The terrain changed too: we left the pavement behind to run along a gravel road.
Here, I began to gain on Kent. But as soon as I rushed up behind him, he would dash away again with a surge of speed. Although it was driving me wild, I was delighted to see him having fun and running so speedily. We ran though the first half of the race like this, sometimes closer and sometimes further. He was always in my sights and he would often look back at me.
In a 12k race, aid stations come fast! We burst out into a clearing and zeroed in on some beautiful paper cups filled with cool Gatorade. I guzzled one, thanked the volunteers and sped out of the aid station so as not to let Kent open up a lead on me!
The next section was a 1 kilometer long out-and-back, and it did not take long before I saw the race leaders running towards me. I was delighted to see a women among them! I started whooping and hollering, as I’d done at High1 Sky Marathon the month before. But I quickly realized that there’s no room for shouting in a 12k. Already sucking down oxygen quickly and noisily, cheering immediately reduced me to gasping. I switched to clapping loudly and giving thumbs up lest I lose the little breath I had.
The turnaround point was at Seoimal Lighthouse (서이말등대). There was a timing mat on the ground, and I saw Kent spin around and run towards me. I took a great gulp of air, cheered him on with all my might, then chased him harder.
The return to the checkpoint was slightly uphill, so for the first time, I lost sight of my husband. But there were many other runners, oncoming racers who returned my enthusiastic applause, and I was happy to see two more women giving it their all. Then, there was Kent: stopped just in front of me, his outstretched arm bearing a gift of Gatorade. I swear I fell in love all over again.
After swigging our cups, we raced off again. This next section was true trail, and we ran down, our feet now clumsy in the rutted and rooty soil. We managed to stay upright, and even briefly met a cute couple who were nearing the end of their 33 kilometers! After a few twists and turns, we burst out of the shade of the forest into the bright sunlight of a secret beach.
I stumbled over the smooth, rounded rocks of the shore, aiming for a set of steps on the opposite side. I could see Kent and some of the other leaders climbing up already. A photographer friend materialized out of the forest and began shooting my run across the beach. I think I managed a wave while demonstrating all my best gasping and arms-out-for-balance maneuvers.
Soon, I was up the stairs and back on single-track in the forest. It was undulating, but only mildly so, and the dirt was soft underfoot. But I was suddenly extra aware of my high heartbeat and frantic footfalls. I felt slightly nauseous and was grateful that I’d remembered to stash some ginger jellies in my back pocket. I slowed down just long enough to pop two in my mouth and remind myself that I was not slowing down!
Others were. On the narrow trail, three runners ahead of me were struggling. I had to slow slightly in my headlong flight to dodge them. By the time I reached the final stretch along the road, Kent was well ahead of me, and one runner was now between us. I saw them cresting a hill before disappearing around a bend. I dug in and hurried after.
There were more hills along this stretch of road than I’d imagined. By the time I was passing by the first pensions, I was fantasizing about running into one and demanding a bottle of water. Again, I reminded myself that I was not going to slow down for any reason this race. I wanted the run even more than I wanted an ice cold water.
The final stretch of this race was on the boardwalk beside the beach. The finish line was actually on the sand of the beach! A volunteer was spraying water on the sand in front of the finish line, and I could hardly wait to reach those flying droplets. But I hesitated.
There was no one behind me that I could see, so I could hang back from the runner whose heels I was chasing. Doing so would give me a great photo finish. But it wasn’t right: it didn’t fit my mindset or the race. Kent had just crossed the line and, if I had to take second, I wanted it to be a close second. I sprinted.
I finished the Bada-ro Saegye-ro 12k on the tail of the fellow in front of me, but all I was aware of was the deliciously cool spray of water droplets on my face and arms. Kent’s open arms wrapped me in a sweaty embrace, and someone dropped medals around our necks. I sucked back two bottles of cold water immediately. I was so happy and so proud of Kent and just delighted with the race. In this haze of endorphins, I realized I’d forgotten to stop my watch right around the same time I realized that, actually, I was not done with my workout.
Kent looked at me like I was crazy when I reminded him that we were to complete a 10 minute cool-down. Laughing, I sent him off to the fruit tent and went off on my own. I ran with a water in one hand and my race medal around my neck. What can I say? I was feeling great! I got an equal mixture of strange looks and cheers as I ran a few laps around the parking lot, looking back at the beach. My body slowly lost heat, and my mind laid down a memory of this event as I slowly jogged around.
By the time I returned, Kent was looking for me – and he had news. I was not only second in our little race, I was second in the women’s race! I was ecstatic! It had crossed my mind during the race that I had only seen one other woman ahead of me at the turnaround. But I had been so focused both on our little race and on continuing to push myself that I hadn’t given it much thought.
We spent an especially joyful time lingering near the finish line. We’d take photos between clapping and cheering for incoming finishers. Kent ate a bowl of noodles, and I one of my stashed bars. I bowed and smiled especially brightly at the other women that I crossed paths with. And soon enough, I met the 1st, 2nd and 4th place runners!
With their help, I made it to the podium, which in this case was a set of stairs leading to the beach. It was smack dab in the middle of the final stretch of the race course, and we parted every time a finisher came through. A man I believe to be the mayor of Geoje handed out the prizes. We all got huge foam signs and smaller black triangles marking our places. And presents! Mine was a gorgeous, brand-new Osprey running vest that I adored instantly.
After the ceremony, we remained parked by the finish line, cheering all of the 33k and 12k finishers in. We met lots of new people, and we got to see our new friends finish their race! After congratulating them, we realized that it was getting late and that we’d better sort out our next move. We wound up adding yet another little sprint to our day – racing after the departing shuttle bus!
Kent had beaten me, fair and square, but our race had been thrillingly close. My heart swelled with joy that my husband had raced so well. You’d never know he hates the heat from his top 20 finish! We’d both had a really fun and successful time running at this shorter distance. As for me, I had achieved my time goal and felt really proud of my performance in the Bada-ro Saegye-ro race. Placing was just the cherry on top of this delicious cake of a day!
Lessons Learned
…that there may be short races, but there shall be no short reports! I’m joking, but it’s funny because it’s true.
In all honesty, I learned just how fun it can be to run at my top speed! I absolutely loved the feeling of flying over the course. This 12k race challenged me in new ways, and it was wonderful. I truly liked everything about it: the course, the heat, the sandy start and finish, the volunteers (especially the friendly photographer who helped me out a lot before the race), meeting new friends…the list goes on and on! The pink race t-shirt was everything I hoped it would be, and going back to Geoje was fun – and important.
Our failure to complete the Geoje Jimaek 100k in May was incredibly hard on both of us. It made me recognize where I need to improve as a teammate. It had made Kent question his ability to do hard things in hot weather. In the two months since then, we’d tweaked our training and done a lot of hot runs. It wasn’t exactly a redemption run, as we weren’t after the same distance or on the same course. But in a sense, it was. Perhaps my favorite part of the Bada-ro Saegye-ro was seeing my strong husband embrace the heat and excel in running through it. This time, everything was different.
Want to enjoy a summertime sprint yourself? The Bada-ro Saegae-ro race was a first edition, but with any luck, it will be back again next year. Visit this page for more information (in Korean, but can be translated!)