On Jan. 28, 2024, the 44th Tateyama Wakashio Marathon took place in the picturesque rural city of Tateytama at the southern tip of the Boso Peninsula in Chiba Prefecture. I joined the race together with a bunch of other citizen runners and completed the race barefoot. I clocked 3:48:01(gross)/3:47:30(net), my quickest barefoot marathon ever since I ran a 3:52:43 marathon in the same course 5 years earlier. The following is how the day unfolded.
<Morning>
I woke up at 5:20 a.m. to have a light breakfast of porridge and fruit. My friend came to pick me up at 6:20. Together we went to the nearby train station to pick up my runner friend. Three of us left town around 6:35. The traffic was smooth on the toll road. We reached Rest Spot Furari a little before 7:30. The sardine soup there is delish. We warmed our stomachs with it. In less than 30 minutes after the soup break, we were at the venue. The designated parking area the closest to the start area was luckily still not full. We found a little open space on the grass part of the baseball ground next to the final stretch leading to the finish arch. People continued to reach the venue one after another. In no time, an announcement was made to tell runners to get ready at their respective corrals.
<Pre-Race Communication>
While waiting in my corral, I was talked to by a couple of female runners. They said they saw the video I shared on YouTube. Earlier I had uploaded it to help inexperienced marathoners to pace themselves in the early stages because the climax of the course comes in the second half. Both female runners were aiming at a sub-3.75 marathon, namely running it under 3:45:00, so they were better than my imaginary audience. Nonetheless, they both thanked me, saying it was a useful input. I was glad.
<Race>
At 10:00 sharp, the gun went off and the race was officially underway. I enjoyed the cold feel of the paved road on my sole with each step. The cheering on either side of the road was festive. There were occasional friendly exchanges between leaving runners and cheering spectators. They must be close friends. The clouds in the sky were expected to go away toward noon, but you never know. The weather in the region at this time of year is unpredictable...
The first 10K is the flattest part of the course in this incredibly challenging course. And yet a good amount of undulation is noticeable to the eye of a novice. You have to run cautiously. Otherwise, you could end up paying a huge price later on.
As I tried to settle into my comfortable pace, I almost felt sleepy. I kept saying to myself, "The first 10K is a warmup for warmup."
Past the 10K mark, the course slowly curbed to the southeast into an undulated straight section. When it's sunny, a temperature rise happens in the section. But today, the clouds continued to cover the sun, and cold winds often chilled uncovered parts of my body. At the aid station near the 15K mark, I picked up some hard sweet cake and motivated myself.
Shortly before the halfway point, I spotted a woman in a familiar-looking outfit. She is a woman who talked to me at the corral. Obviously, she was in trouble. I said hi when I was side by side. She said she had a stitch. Oh, dear... "Go easy. It'll go away," said I to her. I pressed on.
The coastal section soon ended, and a sharp U-turn to the left got us into the race's iconic hilly section. The surface condition of the road improved. It gave me a temporary relief because although the previous 10-20K section is less hilly, the road surface condition is awful. It is so poorly maintained. Many barefoot runners choose to run on painted lines because the surface is smooth. But in this section, much of the paint is cracked and the benefit is completely lost. There are countless edgy small stones as well which pained my soles incessantly. I felt the effect of natural painkillers such as endorphins and enkephalins started waning. If something called hypersensitivity sets in, the game is over. I can no longer continue to run. I did my best to find better parts of the road to minimize the detrimental effect on the sole, which takes up a huge amount of extra mental energy.
The 25.5K mark, where there is a Seven-Eleven convenience store, is a place to look forward to. My friend from my elementary school days, Ui-san, is waiting for my arrival for a memorial photo shoot. The spot is almost 10K away from the start area. He biked between them. He even bought a new electric bike to make his access easier. There he was! When I was about to reach the peak of a long hill, he was holding his new iPhone with a smile on his face. I thanked him and turned right into a winding downhill which was soon to be replaced by the most challenging part of the course.
Between the convenience store and the intersection where the hilly route merges once again with the coastal road is the roughest part of the race, especially for those who have mainly raced in half marathons. The distance beyond 21.1K is a challenge. Steep hills present another challenge. I still remember how this part seemed endless when I first ran this race. But after years of hard training, I even welcome this area because your true fitness is tested. I love forging up the hills. The 500M uphill at the 30K mark is beyond description. You feel like a winner (though the race still has more than 10K to cover!) when you reach the top. The long downhill that follows is a tremendous reward. You feel like you have just become a racing car! And the dramatic return to the coastal road with a magnificent view of the Gulf of Tateyama up ahead is definitely one of the great highlights!
Nine more kilometers to go! Those who cheerfully waved us off in the early stage are back along the road again, welcoming us back. Some of them remembered seeing me in the caveman's costume yell, "The caveman is back!" I wave back to them.
The kilometer signs are great motivators at this stage of the race. One by one, I count down, getting excited by the prospect of the approaching finish. But the race is not over yet.
The last coastal section, though significantly flatter than the previous one, has is own challenge. It is moderately undulated. If you go too gungho when climbing upward inclines, your legs can get cramped. A tactical ascent is required. Narrower strides and rhythm are the key to success.
As I painfully moved forward down the final stretch, a memory of the start flashed back when I was still full of legs. Though the road surface was not particularly smooth, I didn't feel much pain because the soles were still intact, and the excitement of the festive atmosphere eased the discomfort.
But now, after having covered more than 30 kilometers, my soles were beaten up and sore. What didn't feel uncomfortable 3 and a half hours ago now felt excruciatingly painful. I wanted to run on the painted line. But red cones are placed on it at regular intervals for traffic control. I ran on it 5 meters, and then avoided the cone and was back on the painted line again. But it was painfully obvious that this zig-zag approach wouldn't last forever. Finally, I decided to run on the main area of the road with an uncomfortable surface, gritting my teeth.
The riverside resort complex is in sight. The finish is near. There is a river past that building. And the bridge over it. There is the largest cheering crowd on the bridge. I'm almost there. A quick left turn will get me into the final stretch. But alas! The first 50 meters are completely gravel. I had to slow down. A pain shot through my body. Why now!? Why at this most dramatic moment of the race!? I tip-toed like someone walking on burning charcoal. A woman overtook me. And another. A man said, "The last test of endurance!" "Indeed!" said I.
Finally, the graveled part ended, and the rest was a fluffy lawn. I surged. Like a madman. The clock was in sight. It read 3:47 something. Mamma mia! That quick!? I was thinking of something under 3:55 or thereabout. But that's good. I was not as bad as I thought I was. In no time I was on the other side of the finish line. The race is over. I yelled. And looked up into the sky. It's not sunny. But that's not bad. I did it. Running 42.195km without wearing shoes, the same feat that more than 60 years ago legendary Ethiopian marathoner Abebe Bikila accomplished in the Rome Olympics.
<Post-Race Meal>
Me, Uisan, and Mr. Hashimoto, my runner friend dined at Rest Area Furari on our way back home. There was a good collection of dishes made with local seafood. My runner friend tried kinme dai or alfonsino, Uisan had some fried seafood, and I enjoyed having a bowl of hot steamed rice topped with grilled whale steak.
**************************************
Overall, it was a good race. I'm happy to know that I am now strong enough to run a marathon even after experiencing a meniscus tear. I hope my achievement gives hope to citizen runners who is struggling with a meniscus injury. It will heal. And you can be strong again.
Thank you for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment