The race was officially underway at 10:30 a.m. The starting area was very congested at first. I was in the heart of the crowd. I had a hard time getting ahead. For a while I had no choice but walk. But about twenty seconds later the crowd slowly spread out, and passage got easier. I took the outer route for an open space, and overtook one runner after another until I settled for a good 5 K pace of mine.
I was running in bare feet. And in that caveman's one-shouldered one-piece costume I had promised to wear. In a race where the distance is much longer, the pace is a lot slower, and therefore runners often chat with one another as they run along. But in a race like this where the distance is short and the pace is a lot faster, practically no runners talk to each other. They just set their eyes straight ahead and go. So my entertaining costume and absence of foot wear were both almost completely ignored, except that, of course, cheerers along the course noticed me every now and then and some reacted wildly. I especially liked it when a very young blonde girl sitting on the road side said, "Caveman!" as if she were a girl who saw the Batman.
Until the 2 K mark I maintained a brisk pace with ease but from then on it became harder to keep the same pace. I had to slow down, but not too much. I shortened my strides but kept the same cadence. Passing the 3 K mark, as I found myself in the second half of the race, the road surface got rougher. My soles, that had withstood the shock and friction over 30 K once before, were getting sorer. I could feel a blister had developed somewhere in the right toe. This was all caused by the heat created by the constant friction between the road and the sole. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearably painful. Plus, the cardio-vascular challenge of running at a pace that is way faster than my usual training pace was more of an issue at the moment than a slight discomfort in the toe. I was overtaken by faster runners. I overtook slower runners. And slowly the relay station got nearer. As I gasped for air, but I felt like swallowing sand rather than air. I was in a state of severe oxygen debt. I took the last right turn into a long stretch leading to the relay station. On the right hand side there was a wall of cheerers, yelling words of encouragement to the runners coming back. I wanted to kick, but suddenly I found myself running against winds. Feeling as if I was climbing a hill, acceleration felt next to impossible. Then as I got closer to the relay station inch by inch, a smell of grilled beef suddenly reached my nostrils, and in no time I was engulfed with a cloud of smoke. They were coming from barbecue tents where US soldiers served hamburgers and steaks to guests . This lasted for about half a minute. It was a fatal punch in my face. I was already out of breath and gasping for air, but the sudden deterioration of the air quality made me feel choked and my vision started blurring when the arch with "Start" on it was in sight and the small figure of Stuart was visible far ahead at the relay station. I felt renewed motivation swelling up in my mindbody. I swung my arms frantically like Eliud Kipchoge of Kenya kicking toward the finish line in the 2016 Olympic marathon. The figure of Stuart became larger with each step. I took the taski off my shoulder and grabbed it in my right hand. Stuart waved both of his hands over his head to let me know he was there. I shot my tasuki-grabbing right hand up in the air in response. Several seconds later, the taski was in his hands, and off he went down the road through the cheering crowd of runners and spectators!
I was breathless, and felt for a while as if I were one giant bloody heart pumping out tons of blood into all over the world! It took several minutes before my heart rates were normal again and the sweat subsided.
I slowly walked back to the relay station to cheer on my teammates. Stuart, an experienced cyclist, came back in a staggering 20:11. Yuko, who ran the third leg, finished under 25:00, faster than the time she had originally aimed at, and Yuki, who is the youngest member of the team with a PR of 2:50 from the Kyoto Marathon, darted off like a gazelle and came back like a cheetah in chase of a gazelle. He was on another level. By overtaking God knows how many slower runners in the fourth leg as well as those still in the third one, he brought the team to the position of the 35th finisher, by he himself finishing under 18:00. (His official time says 18:00, the time on his wrist watch said 17 something. The discrepancy seemed caused by the gap between the location of the sensor and the actual location where the exchange of the taski was done.)
After the race was over, all of us enjoyed having complimentary ice cream, and some of us also enjoyed having grilled steak and hamburgers for surprisingly friendly prices for their volumes. Later on, we went to Akishima and had a party at Italian restaurant Saizeriya. We ate as if there was no tomorrow. And we enjoyed beer and wine as if we were going to deplete their whole stock of wine at the restaurant.
On our train ride back home many of us dosed off like babies, and murmured a goodbye to one another as the train reached each of our stations.
All in all, it was a very exciting day, and we all agreed that we should get together again for another relay race like this.
The next morning I ached all over, and felt as if both of my legs had become wood.
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