Me. The Squirrels. And a Bench Press.

When I say that I didn’t have any preconceived notions about living in Korea when I first moved over here, one might think it’s because I aimed to forget everything I knew about the country and arrive with an open mind. And that would be true, if I actually knew anything about the country to begin with.

To my credit, I did buy one book off Amazon (“The Koreans: Who They Are, What They Want, and Where Their Future Lies”) which I would read and then recite out loud to my roommates in New York. “Did you know it’s important not to challenge your Korean boss in front of other subordinates because then he’ll lose face?” As I don’t think they actually thought I would pick up and move, they were polite enough to feign interest for the first couple of chapters, before switching to their tried and true tactic when dealing with my Interests of the Month: smile and nod.

    Me: Did you know Korea has the 13th largest economy in the world?
    Roommate: (Smiling and nodding) Oh?
    Me: Yeah, and up until the 70s it was basically a third-world country?
    Roommate: (Slightly dozing off) Hmm.
    Me: And now Seoul is the sixth largest city in the world?
    Roommate: (realizing I was still talking) Yeah. I have to go. Alphabetize my grocery list.
    
Needless to say, as my plane dropped out of the clouds on the way to Seoul, I was glued to the window, excited for my first peek at the country I would be calling home for the next year. Fighting off the sleeping pills I had ingested to survive the fourteen hour haul, I was pleasantly surprised to see endless rows of green mountains with small and large cities sporadically peeking out. I soon found out about seventy percent of Korea is covered with mountains, and as anyone who has watched the videos I posted from Busan a week later can attest to, I’m slightly obsessed with the ones that are now a five-minute walk from my apartment. Hey. You would be too if you grew up in the Midwest where the closest thing to a hill was the slight incline of your driveway; suddenly finding myself choosing between an afternoon at the beach or a hike in the mountains was a nice change.

Excited to go up my local mountains and encouraged by stories from other foreigners about the great trails that were waiting for me, I set out a couple weeks ago armed with a bottle of water and my iPod. Somewhat a novice when it comes to hiking, I didn’t think to ask for directions to the trail entrances; I figured if I could see the mountain from my apartment windows, all I needed to do was walk until I hit the bottom, and then hike upwards. Well, I found the bottom, but no trail. Not one to let minor details get in the way (who needs a trail?), I began my climb, clutching the trees and hoisting myself up the side of the rather uninviting mountain. Ten minutes later, I was back at the bottom after nearly stepping on a snake and almost knocking myself unconscious on a low hanging branch in my frantic and less than graceful descent. So when the Texans called this morning inviting me to join them on a hike, I was excited to actually experience hiking the mountain trails.

From what I can tell, Koreans love to exercise. And more importantly, they love the accompanying apparel one has to buy in order to exercise. One of the first things I noticed about Busan was the abundance of sports stores; swimming, hiking, rafting, skiing – if there is an outfit for the sport, there was a store nearby selling it. I had seen hikers walking around town, each wearing matching black pants, long sleeved shirts, vests, walking poles (think cross-country skiing), white gloves and visors. Hoping this was voluntary and not a strictly enforced dress code (“You no climb. Need poles.”), the Texans and I started up the trail clad in our mismatching shorts and t-shirts.

Happy to find the trails extremely well maintained, complete with stairs for the steep inclines, we were walking for about twenty minutes when we came to a clearing in the woods and saw what looked like a nearly complete gym. In the forest. Bench press, squatting machine, a combination treadmill and elliptical apparatus, parallel bars, a pull-down weight contraption, chin up bars, inclined sit-up bench, giant hula-hoops, etc. In the middle of the forest. No membership fee, no annoying guy about to bust out of his baby tee hovering in front of a mirror – just us, some identically dressed Koreans, and the squirrels. And the best part? There wasn’t just one Forest Gym; in our two-hour hike, we came across four different areas with similar equipment. They did not mention this in my book.

Pausing for a mini-work out (I’m embarrassed to report my abs are somewhat sore from five minutes of hula-hooping – who knew?), we continued on with our hike, and I made a mental note of the path’s location for any future wilderness work out sessions. As far as the outfits go, after spending the morning feeling like a social outcast and swatting at the itchy grass brushing up against my calves, I now understand the utility of the uniform and am considering investing in some of those comfy looking black pants. I have to draw the line at the visor though – it just doesn't go with the bald.