Wednesday, April 27, 2022

14 (well, 15) staircases

As part of my own Build Back Better (doesn't that sound ungrammatical to you?) project, I went back to an old workout, last night, and did 14 staircases along the Yangjae Creek. It's been a while, maybe years, since I last did that specific thing, and it felt good. It helps that, right now, the springtime nights are pleasantly cool; this is going to become hell in about a month. When I do this sort of workout, I start with my first staircase at the point nearest the confluence of the Yangjae and Tan Creeks, then work my way along the Yangjae. The staircases get progressively smaller—starting at 81 steps for Staircase 0 (I'll explain "zero" in a moment) and reaching about 65 steps by Staircase 14. At Staircase 14, I simply turn around and walk back to my place, and that walk provides me with the time to get my heart and breathing rate back to normal.

Staircase 0 refers to an 80-step staircase that I didn't discover until I had been doing the "staircase walk" along the Yangjae Creek for several months (this was some years ago). There's a particular staircase, not far from where I break off from the trail to walk back to my apartment, that I had mentally labeled as Staircase 1. Upon discovering that there was actually one more staircase along the Yangjae, the very last and tallest staircase before the Tan Creek, I decided to call that one Staircase 0. So in truth, my 14-staircase routine is a 15-staircase routine, starting with that beast of a staircase.

I admit I do feel a bit self-righteous when I do this particular workout because I'm pretty sure there's no one else on that trail doing anything like what I'm doing—climbing every single staircase I meet. Doing 15 staircases this way is almost exactly equivalent to climbing my apartment building's staircase 1.5 times, and because the Yangjae Creek route is outdoors, it's substantially more pleasant, as workouts go. Of course, the coming summer heat will likely drive me back inside my building, but I've done the creek route in the summer before, so I'll still keep doing it, even in the heat, while I sweat my usual rivulets.

The full staircase walk goes so far along the Yangjae Creek that I actually leave Seoul and end up in Gwacheon City: that's how close I am to Seoul's southern border. The full staircase walk continues past Staircase 14 to Staircase 33, but the stairs after 14 are much shorter and easier to climb, averaging maybe 20-30 steps each. The walk becomes much more peaceful when you approach and then cross the Seoul/Gwacheon border; I've actually thought about moving to the set of apartments I've seen in that area (but commuting to work would mean using my bike, and God knows where I'd go shopping!). The full staircase walk makes for a good workout, but whether I walk to Staircase 14 or 33, it's a workout that takes time. I was surprised, last night, to see my walking time for the day was right around 180 minutes, i.e., three hours. My normal Tuesday walk involves maybe 90 minutes' walking, then about 15 minutes doing the stairs in my building. I subtracted 15 minutes from my walk time, last night, and transferred those minutes to stair-climbing for the purposes of MyFitnessPal.

Yesterday's workout was a worthy effort, as well as a nice reintroduction to creekside walking. As summer approaches, I'll be doing most of my walks during the nighttime as a way to avoid the summer sun. I'll never forget how I tried walking, with a full backpack, along the Han River in the summer of 2017: I had gotten back from my springtime trek across the country for the first time and, full of arrogance, I thought I could put the backpack on once again and trek out toward Incheon. I nearly fainted from the heat, and as Clint Eastwood said, "A man's got to know his limitations." I haven't tried anything that silly since, and I'm much more aware, now, of things like how much water I need during which season. Experience brings wisdom.

That reminds me: I have a Korean app that talks in some detail about the various segments of the Jeju Olle trail, and it includes difficulty ratings. The Olle route is a rough ellipse that goes around the outer perimeter of the island in a clockwise direction: you start in the east with Course 1, move south, go west, curve northward, go eastward, then drop southward during the final part (Course 21) to end up where you started. One thing I noticed is that all the parts of the trail rated "difficult" are along the south side. While many of those routes aren't long in terms of raw distance (15-20 km), if they're rated "difficult," then I won't be combining two segments into one-day walks. That would be insane.

I haven't started planning in earnest for the Jeju walk yet, but with the Olle trails being pre-planned and well marked, I think my main consideration will be things like camping/lodging and where to buy food and drinks. My coworker reports that Jeju has become very tourist-trappy, so I suspect there'll be no shortage of places to tank up. On a small island like Jeju, it's impossible to find oneself "in the middle of nowhere." You're always somewhere.

More on my Jeju plans later.



No comments:

Post a Comment

READ THIS BEFORE COMMENTING!

All comments are subject to approval before they are published, so they will not appear immediately. Comments should be civil, relevant, and substantive. Anonymous comments are not allowed and will be unceremoniously deleted. For more on my comments policy, please see this entry on my other blog.

AND A NEW RULE (per this post): comments critical of Trump's lying must include criticism of Biden's or Kamala's or some prominent leftie's lying on a one-for-one basis! Failure to be balanced means your comment will not be published.