Caveman's Mindbody Quest （Gakの縄文式DO記）: Race Report: Tateyama Wakashio Marathon 2020

On January 26 the Tateyama Wakasio Marathon 2020 took place. I aimed to run my first sub 3.5 marathon. I fell short of the goal by a narrow margin of 19 seconds, but nonetheless I am happy with the result. I finished strongly by running a negative split. Plus, I now know what a sub-3.5 marathon feels like. Below is a report of how I ran the race.

The gun officially went off at 10 o'clock sharp. The temperature at start was 4.3 degrees Celsius. There was a strong north wind. Most runners were either in rain coats or water-proof running jackets. I ran in a plastic garbage bag with a hole cut out, out of which I stuck my head.

I ran in a pair of aqua shoes like the one above. After having completed 16 full marathons, most in shoes of various kinds, and a handful without shoes, I had come to a conclusion that this 999-yen pair of aqua shoes with little cushioning are by far the best choice to run a marathon. They are light, warm enough under most conditions, and they remain light even after they get wet in the rain, because the sole is made of a meshed material so that the water drains immediately and never stays inside the shoe.

Back to talking about the race, the first quarter of the race is warm up of warm up. I ran at my own pace without caring much about getting overtaken by so many runners.

The first quarter of the course is only slightly undulated, but largely flat. Shortly before the 10 K mark the course winds down towards east, though, and then comes a first major uphill. I climbed it, making sure my heart rates wouldn't go up too much. This isn't the place to race yet.

The second quarter of the race, which is mostly along the southern tip of the Boso Peninsula, is flat. It overlooks the beautiful Pacific Ocean on the right. If the weather was good, the sky would be blue, and the sea even bluer, and the sun would be blazing, and it would be even slightly hot. But today both the sky and sea were grey. The bitter cold of the first quarter slightly eased as the northern winds were significantly blocked by the hills on the north, and they died down. I continued to be overtaken by so many runners in this phase of the race, but I just let them go, because the real race begins after the halfway point and when the course takes a sharp left turn into the hilly area. The course continues to ascend until a little past the 30 K mark with a few moderate downhills appearing along the way. The hilly section culminates with an almost 500 M ascent after the water station near the 10 K mark. I saw many runners walk here, but this is THE part of the race I most anticipate. It's the heart and soul, the flesh and bone of the Tateyama Marathon! In fact, when I finally reached the foot of the uphill I was so excited that I cried in those words, "Here comes the cherry of the cake!!" I shortened my strides and increased the cadence. I pulled my chin and looked at my own feet as I climbed the hill. You can run economically that way, and can also trick your mind. It doesn't feel like you are going up.

When I finally reached the top of the hill, I was so happy that the worst was finally over. I hammered down the hill, accelerating with each step, overtaking runners who were too exhausted to take advantage of the descent. I took full advantage of it, and slowed down when the course flattened out again to calm down my breath.

Between the 32 and 33 K mark the course takes a sudden right turn, and there comes a brief steep downhill just 50 meters long. It is there that the hilly section gives way to the coastal road again! A vast expanse of waters suddenly appears up ahead. Ordinarily it's calm and blue. Today it's grey and rough as if to tell me the race is not over yet, but that the real game begins right here, right now!

Once back on the coastal road I suddenly realized there were far fewer runners along the way. It was then that I realized that I was significantly ahead of most runners. I didn't know how fast I was going because I didn't have my watch on. But one thing was certain. I was still full of energy, compared with most runners around me. I did occasionally spot a runner or two who was still full of running, and was in fact accelerating at this last quarter. However, most were slowing down, some significantly presumably because their fast pace in earlier stages was now taking a toll on their legs and cardio-vascular system. I had been saving all of my energy until 30 K. That was the main difference.

I continued to pick up the pace, overtaking one struggling runner after another. With two kilometers remaining I saw a familiar sight of the back of a female runner. I followed her for a while in an earlier stage of the race, but she was a lot faster, and her pace wasn't mine, so I just let her go. I enjoyed the greatest pleasure of marathon running--overtaking runners who had long gone ahead!

A prospect of the approaching finish started lifting my spirit, but the discomfort from building lactic acid and increasingly difficult breathing wouldn't allow it to be a pure joy. With 500 M to go, one of the cheerers along the road cried, "You can make a sub 3.5 marathon!" I couldn't believe my ear! Was I going that fast? Believing what he said, though, I put on a spurt like a mad dog. Taking the last left turn into the final stretch leading to the finish, I accelerated even more, losing balance slightly on a brief muddy section between the paved road and the lawned home stretch. The official clock was in sight up ahead on my left, but the time wasn't visible. I pressed on. With just a few meters to the finish finally I saw the time. It said 3:30 something. Goodness, how close I was to my first gross sub-3.5 marathon! But that's OK. I gave it everything I'd got today. That's what's most important. Give it all you've got. I trained so hard for it. And I certainly enjoyed the fruits of my months-long preparation. That's most important.