Muriel Unseth is an English Teaching 
Assistant, a literature and poetry enthusiast and a marathon runner. Since September 2021, she has been teaching English at Gymnázium Rožnov pod Radhoštěm, in a town of 16 000, located in the Beskydy Mountains. From the main square in Rožnov, one can take a well-marked 6-mile trail or run to the top of the mountain Radhošť, 1129 meters or 3704 feet above sea level. Even though Muriel was attracted to the Czech Republic mostly because of the country’s excellence in literature and poetry, throughout her grant period, she has discovered another less-known passion shared by many members of her community and that is running, especially trail-running in the countryside. Muriel did not have to wait for this revelation too long, as her mentor Kateřina invited her to see the movie “Zátopek” during Muriel’s first week in the Czech Republic. The story sparked an interest in discovering more about the life and heritage of this exceptional Czechoslovak athlete who won four Olympic medals for long-distance running and has been nicknamed “Czech Locomotive.” Emil Zátopek was born in Kopřivnice, which is just a half marathon away from Rožnov, and he is buried at the Rožnov cemetery. In what way can Zátopek’s legacy be relevant, inspiring and timely for a young American, teaching English language overseas for the first time in her life? You will learn below.
During occasional fits of self-reflection, I ask myself: what’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done? That answer changes all the time, but lately I’ve said this Fulbright year. I expected it to be challenging, but I didn’t anticipate just how much, and in how many ways. Long distance running has always been an outlet for me to process challenges I’m facing, so I’d like to share some of my long run thoughts from the roads here in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm.
Photo 2: Fall landscape in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm, Fall 2021.
There was a moment this fall where I felt sure I had gotten myself into a personal top ten Most Difficult Thing Ever, and, inconveniently, it was after two miles of a 13 mile race. I had signed up for a local half marathon organized in honor of legendary Czech distance runner Emil Zátopek, assuming that my multiple previous half marathons had prepared me for this one. I had done my best to translate the labyrinthine race website into English- the course ended in the famous open-air Wallachian museum right here in my small mountain town of Rožnov. Convenient! It began in the town of Kopřivnice, a short drive away. Regional exploration! The local running club could pick me up on their way. Social! There was even a short course map video on the website, displaying a swift red dot breezing smoothly through a straightforward race route. Prophetic! In typical Czech understatement, I was told the route was “a little hilly.” Very doable! Equipped with typical American overconfidence, I began the race blissfully unaware of the upcoming 1400 feet of elevation. In the chronicled pre-race words of Zátopek, “Men, today we die a little.”
I’ve been thinking about Zátopek a lot this year. He took home 1952 Olympic gold in the 5,000m, 10,000m, and marathon distances, a feat made more impressive by the fact that he entered the marathon at the last minute and had never competed in that distance before. (What magical cocktail of willpower and talent does it take to win the Olympics in your marathon debut? How can I drink some?) His competitive excellence is too extreme to be the motivating factor in his story; rather, I am inspired by his training philosophy of accepting, even seeking, hardship as an opportunity for improvement. That grueling half marathon race started in his hometown and ended at his grave in the museum; metaphorically, we ran his lifespan, with difficulty. As I struggled to cross the literal mountain, I thought about how fitting it was that his memorial race was so taxing. His training was famously arduous; he pioneered concepts like interval training, where a runner uses sets of sprints to prepare for a longer effort. There’s some kind of metaphor in there about how doing small Difficult Things prepares you for the Most Difficult Thing, but the idea never crystallized during that race.
The themes of endurance, resilience, and excellence that characterized Zátopek’s career and life have felt unusually applicable this year. In my placement as a teaching assistant at the grammar school in Rožnov, I’ve been asking myself what it takes to be a good educator. Any teacher’s first year in the classroom is roughly analogous to the unpredictable challenges of a debut marathon. I’ve spent much of this year making mistakes, following the lead of veteran teachers, learning how to motivate and relate to students, how to manage a classroom and plan lessons and be “on” all day… it is challenging, and it is good. Grappling with the question “what does it look like to be a good educator?” wasn’t enough this year- what does it look like to be a good educator in a foreign country? In a pandemic? During a war? With what words can you express yourself (in general! At the Czech grocery store!), and with what words can you express how much you value the people and places around you (dear mentor, I would be dying a lot without you)? It was uncomfortable to confront these situations that I felt wildly unequipped for. Often the challenges felt futile, as I wondered if I was making a difference, or growing as a person, or fulfilling my own idea of excellence. I would go for long runs on Rožnov’s riverside cycling path, questioning the value I added to my school as an ETA, and questioning why I was doing these Difficult Things that I was struggling with so much. Again, Zátopek felt like a fitting role model. His disagreements with the communist party after the 1968 Prague Spring got him expelled from the party and relegated to menial labor. He worked quietly and diligently for decades before being rehabilitated by Vaclav Havel in 1990. His nickname as a racer was the “Czech Locomotive,” a reference to his unflagging endurance. (Although this strikes me sometimes as an ironic title, considering the amount of times I’ve been stranded at a Czech train station.) The glory of winning is preceded by long, unspectacular preparation; the value in living and working goes unseen in daily mundane actions. I like to think about all the little challenges as interval training for life- all this running and reading and teaching and talking accumulates into something golden.
Aside from being famously resilient, Zátopek was also famously friendly, dispensing advice to his friends and competitors (often the same people). He gave practical advice, like touching your thumb and middle finger together lightly while running to relax your shoulders, which served me well in my own debut marathon this year. But his philosophical advice sticks in my mind as well- he said “there is a great advantage in training under unfavorable conditions,” and that may be the best answer to the question “why am I doing this?” that intrudes when I feel tired or overwhelmed or not up to the next challenge. It’s been a tough year; I can be tough too.
Photo 5: One of Muriel's favorite running trails in Beskydy Mountains, Spring 2022.
At this point in the year, after months of unforeseen hurdles and a barrage of new experiences, it feels like I am reaping the benefits of the Difficult Things interval training. I stress less about lesson planning, I feel at home in my town, and I love talking to my students about their lives and ideas. I’m still thinking about Zátopek, I’m still running, and I’m still teaching. As cliché as it is, the next Most Difficult Thing is going to be leaving this country.
