Teacher Sports Day

I started running again in the mornings this week. I put a halt to my thrice-weekly routine after experiencing a chronic, dull pain on the outside of my right knee. At first I attempted to self diagnose and treat the problem. I had it figured out that my issue stemmed from tight hamstrings and a tight iliotibial band and proceeded on with a daily regimen of rest, ice and stretching. My condition only seemed to get worse, so it was a great relief when I came across a passage in "The Complete Book of Running" that dealt with knee pain. I bought the book at an English bookstore in the foreign neighborhood of Seoul last weekend. It is normally the type of book I wouldn't buy- more like something I would look at, try and garner as much important info as possible, maybe even take notes, and then put back on the shelf. Workout books and business sales books are great for that. However, on this occasion, we were exchanging our old books for their old books- an increasingly common occurrence as we attempt to rid ourselves of unnecessary materials in preparation for our return flight to the states.

For my condition, the book recommended that I not stop running entirely, and offered that overstretching may lead to more problems. Its recovery plan called for slowly working my way back up to where I was before the injury and partaking in a new stretching routine called  "Power Yoga." I have performed this pre-run routine before in the comfort of a yoga studio, but never in public. As you can imagine, since starting the stretching ritual this week, I have elicited an even larger number of befuddled stares from the elderly women who walk around the track where I run in the mornings. However, I am happy to report that my knee pain has subsided after introducing the "Power Yoga" pre-routine and post-routine stretches.

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My brief running hiatus coincided with my school's inaugural sports day for teachers held last week, but I wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity because of a bum knee. As with all Korean activities, the details of the sports day were planned on the fly. Initially, I had heard that teachers would have a choice to play either ping-pong, badminton, some sort of volleyball/soccer hybrid that is all the rage around town, and volleyball. I have no interest in any sport where hand usage is frowned upon, so that ruled out the soccer volleyball for me, and although my ping pong skills have improved since weekly Friday afternoon lessons, I still have trouble with the relentless returns of my Korean  competitors. Badminton is always good fun, but the athletic opportunity I relished most was volleyball. I had a picture in my head of owning the net with a splendid array of blocks and spikes, striking fear in my shorter and more feeble opponents.

Of course when the time came to hit the turf, the idea of volleyball and the other previously discussed sports was naturally scrapped in favor of kickball. At least we used a volleyball instead of the American standard red rubber.

Since there were so may teachers participating, the infield was littered with defensive players. The outfield, however, remained sparsely covered as the median player age titled somewhere north of a half century and, not coincidentally, kicked balls mostly rolled no further than the pitcher. I took advantage of this fact by blasting the volleyball out into the outfield and into the bushes. I sprinted all the way home in time for someone to translate instructions from my unimpressed principal. He awarded me a ground rule double, and when I trotted back to second, he made sure I knew that next time up, I would have to use my left foot. When I made a diving catch to end the game, he said I should have dropped it to make the game more competitive.

Afterward, I did partake in a friendly game of soccer/volleyball with the rules slightly altered. We played five on five and the nine female teachers were allowed to use their hands volleyball style to advance the ball over the tennis net, but I had to use my feet. All was well and good until it was my turn to serve. I gently kicked the ball over the net to a position an equal distance between two competitors. They crashed into each other and fell on the concrete. One teacher appeared to me to be laughing, but it quickly appeared that there was nothing funny about the situation. A tight circle of bodies quickly converged around the injured and crying player and teachers from all over the field came rushing over to join in the spectacle and offer help. She was taken to a hospital where it was later explained to me that she broke her wrist and that "the bone turned to dust." I guess that is a Korean phrase that is untranslatable. I guess I better stick to running alone in the morning from now on.