Running a marathon in Japan is an experience like no other.
Training for and running a marathon alone has been something really special for me, but to do so here, in the country I love, was a thrill. I ran surrounded by booming taiko drums and traditional Japanese flutes, as the folks lining the road cheered us on. I ran next to Mario and Iron man. There was traditional Japanese poppoyaki at the water and food stops.
(For more great examples of cosplay marathoners check HERE!)
The Niigata City Marathon course was a new one this year,
which took us by the Sea of Japan, the Shinano River, and all over the city, weaving in and out of this road and that, crossing the landmark Bandai Bridge, and heading all the way down to Furusatomura where I would, at 34 k, face a mild existential crisis.
The feeling of unity with the other runners, running through this wonderful city by the sea, and the PAIN of the experience were all beautiful. I was able to get a high-five on my way from Olympic gold medalist and marathon speed demon Naoko Takahashi as well!
I didn't know at the time who the crazy lady yelling at us in the tunnel to "keep going!" was, but the energy was well appreciated, and I later learned she was none other than Sydney Olympic gold medalist Naoko Takahashi.
The sense of community was fantastic.
The first time I teared up in this race was at the very beginning. The race had just started, and there was hardly room to move on the crowded street. TV crews and groups of cheerleaders were shouting Ganbare! Saigo made akiramenai! "Go get 'em! Don't quit until the end!"
I looked around and saw all these people. People in costumes. Fat people. Skinny people. Stylish looking girls who I would normally judge to be quite vain and boring. Old guys with all kinds of weird support wraps and braces on their knees and legs. Foreigners like myself. In everyday life, I would just pass by these folks feeling separate and almost alien. But today, here we all were--running. I was quite a powerful feeling. This is what it is, after all, isn't it? Life in one simple symbol. Thousands of people running their own race, yet together. The second time tears would come would be at the very end.
An excellent article on "the wall" and how to avoid hitting in can be found here.
Rubber muscles at 34 k.
I don't like to run away from my goal. The most painful part of the race, and indeed the part where my muscles basically just stopped working, was the point on the course where the path to the goal was in sight, but the course extended for miles in the opposite direction, first.
This was a big mental blow to me, at 34 kilometers in, as all my prior long runs in training had been straight lines to my goal. When I can feel my goal clearly inside of myself, my resolve is quite remarkable, if I may say so, myself. In this instance, however, I could see the frontrunners already across the river, heading back downtown, while I had to pass that bridge and run far down the river bank in the other direction, the glycogen stores in my leg muscles nearly depleted. It honestly felt like a cruel joke of some kind. Total inanity.
My body just...stopped. I walked for a bit and stretched my legs on the grass of the river bank, ashamed. Many were walking at this point, but I didn't want to. Why? was all I could think as I squatted to stretch my knees and tried to reintroduce some life into my now rubber-hard muscles. I've run much longer than this in training and never stopped! I realized something about myself. I DO NOT LIKE TO RUN AWAY FROM THE GOAL. The mental challenge of seeing that endless line of runners going the "wrong way" crushed my will power. One of the women cheering us on saw the look on my face and asked if I was okay, telling me there was water just ahead. I smiled and continued, intermittently running as I could.
A life lesson, perhaps. Sometimes we have to go out of our way to stay on our way. Fucking painful-ass lesson. I prefer straight lines to my goals!
A marathon is a marathon, and I began to run again.
Intermittently, at first, as my body would allow. When we finally got back to that bridge, my mood began to improve. I was able to push myself and start running steadily again. It is amazing what our bodies can do when the mind is willing. At the end I really was running on nothing but thoughts of freedom and Steem (see how I tied that in there ;)), and my wife and son, and how I want to make the world better for them.
I know it may not make sense to others, but running this race meant something to me on a deeply personal level. I got teary-eyed. When your body is that blasted, and you are still pushing with nothing but your mind and sheer will power, the tears come. There is literally nothing left but to push forward with a power you don't even have. I'll never forget how beautiful that big blue sign that said "Finish Line" looked to me. A woman standing on the sidelines of the last 3k called out to me in English: "Keep going!"
Final thoughts.
My wife and son were in the stands cheering me on at the finish line. Man alive. I could hardly continue walking around the track when it was all over. I found a spot in the grass next to a bunch of other dead guys and laid down on the soft green turf, stretching my legs and using my brand new "FINISHER" marathon towel as a sun shield.
I was happy with my final time, as I was happy just to have finished the race. I finished in in 5 hours, 4 minutes and 30 seconds, placing 3,756th out of 9,773 runners.
Finally, I'll end with a quote from a book I have been reading and sharing throughout the course of this blog, Haruki Murakami's WHAT I TALK ABOUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT RUNNING:
Now, this doesn't mean I don't want to improve my time. I am already thinking about the next race, and how I can train more efficiently and effectively! That said, this whole running thing remains for me as it has been from the start--
A matter of the spirit.
PEACE! AND THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!
(Thanks, as always, for stopping by. To go back to the beginning of this 5 month Steemit-documented journey for me, you can start here.)
~KafkA
Graham Smith is a Voluntaryist activist, creator, and peaceful parent residing in Niigata City, Japan. Graham runs the "Voluntary Japan" online initiative with a presence here on Steem, as well as Facebook and Twitter. (Hit me up so I can stop talking about myself in the third person!)
