Weekend running

Last Thursday, Lee and I woke up early to run before work. After a few days of pouring rain, the skies cleared and I was the fortunate viewer of an absolutely perfect sunrise. Seeing as I'm barely coherent when I roll out of bed and stumble down the stairs for my morning run, I didn't have my camera, but it made me think I should start carrying it with me when I run, as I often see photogenic and/or completely random scenes of interest. So I did.

This weekend, Lee, Rebecca, Marcia, Jill and I went to Seokchon Lake to run on Saturday. Lee carried the camera, which hasn't been used for so long that we only noticed the battery was completely dead when we went to snap a photo. Thankfully, Marcia brought hers so we were able to record for posterity the clock with a built-in thermometer. Yes, it's hard to read, but the temperature was indeed 33 degrees when we finished.

Sunday saw us at Umyeonsan to run and hike. The main trail to the summit tends to be crowded on the weekends, but the lesser-used paths are practically empty. The shade of the trees makes it a perfect place to run at this very hot time of year. 

What Korean mountain would be complete without a Buddhist temple?

The cairn at the top. Many people walk around it in a clockwise direction and pray.

Seoul down below.


Every little thing gonna be alright

Joseph Goebbels, Bob Marley, and a deer walk into a bar in Borneo. Bartender says "Sorry fellas, we don't serve ironic postmodernism here."



Just 45 minutes outside Kuching via Must-careen-through-traffic-at-MACH-speed-with-music-blaring-loudly-enough-to-split-eardrums Deathmobile minivan is Kubah National Park and the 912m Gunung Serapi. We followed a paved but traffic-free road to the summit, as the morning mist was heavy enough at one point to qualify itself as a character in a Stephen King novel.

The fog did nothing to deter a gaggle of monks from reaching the summit barefooted. It made for a slighly surreal but very serene scene at the top, as the monks meditated then ate while their clothes were hung to dry. The nothingness of footwear did not hamper them on the trails we followed back down to the park entrance though, as a number of times we had to step off the path to let the fleet of foot pass.

We relied on the kindness of strangers for a lift back to town at the end of a sweaty day. John and Robinson were great company, full of interesting facts about the area, and more than happy to introduce us to a frosty glass of fruit juice indigenous to the hills of Sarawak before bidding adieu.