Runner's Strain

I had forgotten how difficult it is to run in this country. Indeed, that was one of the first things that I was struck with upon returning to the United States: the ease of access for runners to do what they love.
To give an example, I need to hike roughly half a mile up a steep hill before I can begin my run here in site. I certainly can’t drive there as I might do at home. Then there is the question of the time of day to go running. Placing work schedules aside for a moment, there are only a certain number of hours in the day that I am able to go out: 12hrs of daylight (give or take), no daylight-savings time. Within that time frame, I must deal with the weather (rains all afternoon during the rainy season, sometimes throughout the day), dogs and people (often unfriendly and condescending respectively… maybe both?), and the terrain (mountainous, rocky and uneven, extremely muddy during the rainy season). Clothes and proper running shoes can also present themselves as something of a problem. Both tend to ware quickly out here, and clothes are dried out on the line, which can often take days during the rainy season. Translation: wet running clothes, whether from rain, sweat or both, tend to stay that way for quite a while.
Being back home was wonderful, because at any moment I could decide to get up and go for a run. It didn’t matter the hour. The streets are lit and close at hand, the weather and terrain more permitting, the clothes easily washed and dried. I can dry off and warm up quickly after runs, don’t have to hike to or from my route, and runners gear, (shorts, shoes, watches, internet resources, etc.) are all readily available. What’s more, the routes themselves are often designed with runners in mind, and the social culture in the country is such that it is at least somewhat acceptable for a person to use running as a form of exercise. To many here in El Salvador, the vary concept of “exercise” simply does not exist. They only “train,” as a professional athlete might train before an event, say, a soccer game. Your common man does not “train.” You are therefore something of a spectacle, for good or ill, and will have to endure more than your share of indignities.
Nutrition can be something of an issue as well, which I think is particularly true in my case. Because I eat with my host family for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, my diet is defined by what is both seasonally and locally available, and by the whim of those preparing the meal. Thus I often am left wanting of certain nutrients that might help me to recover more quickly, retain my energy and alertness, or build muscle. Often times, after the midday meal I will feel extremely sluggish and tired, due in no small part I am sure to the copious amounts of carbohydrates and starches in each meal, along with the high noon heat of the sun.
Travel is another challenge that can often complicate my intentions to run. It is admittedly more difficult to do any form of exercise while traveling, whether through the United States or to other parts of the world. Your standard routine is broken up or wholly ruined, and your are greeted by new and unfamiliar, perhaps even dangerous places. This is never more true, however, than here in Latin America. As part of being a Peace Corps volunteer I travel a lot, and here in El Salvador that means anywhere from a few hours to an entire day of travel in buses. The main highways are always crowded with traffic during the day and rarely have shoulders provided, only then when nearing a metropolis. Beyond that, the streets are further congested with street vendors, pedestrians, and stray dogs. Get off the main highway and you are lucky to find many paved roads. These roads can be just as dangerous as the highway if not more so because of their isolated nature. One can never take for granted that this country has the highest homicide rate per capita in the world due to its ongoing problems with gangs and drug trafficking.
That said, I must admit that despite all of these difficulties which conspire against an avid runner, they concurrently engender great returns for those who decides to overcome them. The scenery which abounds in many parts of the country is just another added perk. The topography of much of the country can only be characterized as hilly, the land laying across a fault line and littered with volcanoes, which can do wonders for strength and endurance training. And certainly the higher altitudes of my site have done much to help further my training results. It is something of a trade off then, gaining a little here, losing a little there.
In the end the run is what you make of it, and though it has been difficult the gains made from running have been significant.

The Long Road Home

I have been back in El Salvador for one week today and it has been a challenge, to say the least. I quite forgot the rough edges of day-to-day life that is the Peace Corps El Salvador experience. After being away from the cabin for more than 40 consecutive days it was in a state of messy disarray when I finally returned. In fact, my second night home, after coming back from my host family’s house after dinner, I interrupted a rather large rat inside the cabin perched on a shelf against the wall adjacent to the front door where I have all my bathroom finery. Wonderful, I think to myself as I hastily grab for some fatal weapon to duel with this intruding, pestilent fiend, having overcome the initial surprise of the unwelcome visitor. I later discovered a soap bar half eaten, left in its wake. It seems that soap has a rats version of cat nip stored within; they can’t seem to get enough of it. I found the remnants of two others the day before, eaten sometime during my vacation.
The weather has been depressing me further, with long, dark, rainy, and overcast days. It had rained three days consecutively since I arrived, another three prior to my arrival I had been told. The consequence: everything is wet, impregnated with mildew and rot or flirting with the idea, and mud scattered across cloths, floors, hands, and faces. This will take some getting used to, I think to myself.
I had done it all before, and with a light and enthusiastic air more times than not. But this time around my reactions are quite different. Fresh from the good life, surrounded by the abundance and comfort which characterizes so much of American life, my outlook on the situation is now admittedly colored, playing to a different tune. And I can’t help but wonder, why? Why have I come back. At once I feel very selfish and self-involved for pouting over my sudden (albeit planned) change in living circumstances. Carlos, a 16 year old in the community had recently lost a greater portion of his right thumb just last week after having caught it in a chain linkage while working in the field. How can I even begin to lament the difficulties of returning in light of the challenges Salvadorans daily face? It’s comforting really to reflect on our comparative realities, a humble reminder of how fortunate we are, a reservoir of strength to draw from. I’m okay, I say. I can do this…