Race Recap: The 45th Tateyama Wakashio Marathon

The 45th Tateyama Wakashio Marathon

The 45th Tateyama Wakashio Marathon was held in the beautiful coastal city of Tateyama, located at the southern tip of the Boso Peninsula in Chiba Prefecture. I participated in the race and achieved another sub-4 marathon. Here’s how the race unfolded for me.

Race Start: A Cautious Beginning
The starting gun went off at 10:00 AM sharp. The temperature was a crisp 8.9°C, accompanied by strong northerly winds at 7 meters per second. The first 4 kilometers allowed runners to settle into a rhythm, aided by favorable tailwinds. However, the race had only just begun, and I knew there was a long way to go. Pacing cautiously was crucial. 

Thanks to my strong record in a previous race, I had the privilege of starting in Corral A. Still, within the first 10 kilometers, I was overtaken by many runners, including some from slower corrals. I didn’t let it bother me—I stuck to my target pace, guided by my training and understanding of my own capabilities.

First 10K: Settling In

At the 10K mark, I checked my split: 51 minutes and some seconds. It surprised me; I thought I had been running slightly slower. Deciding to err on the side of caution, I slowed my pace for the next 10 kilometers, knowing that this section of the course was strategically the most important.

10–20K: Staying Conservative

This stretch presented three key challenges. First, the increased undulations subtly wore down the legs. Second, the temperature rose as the course moved to the peninsula's southern side, where the hills blocked the cooling northern winds and reflected sunlight. Finally, the long, straight downhills tempted runners to speed up, risking burnout later.

Aware of these pitfalls, I maintained a conservative pace and took a couple of short bathroom breaks to relax and prepare for the demanding 20–30K section.

20–30K: Battling Hills and Winds
The 20–30K portion was even hillier than the previous segment. To make matters worse, the northern winds hit hard between the 22K and 25K marks, delivering both physical and mental challenges. I focused on running economically, especially on the uphill sections, to conserve energy.

The course’s highlight—and its toughest test—came at the 30K mark: the infamous Heartbreak Hill. This steep, 500-meter climb forced some runners to walk while others gritted their teeth and pushed on. Spectators lining the hill cheered enthusiastically, many of them clearly runners themselves, understanding the encouragement we needed.

30–40K: The Final Push
After conquering the hill, I returned to the coastal road with about 9 kilometers to go. The terrain leveled out somewhat, and more spectators gathered along the route. Some even recognized me from earlier and shouted, “Welcome back, Caveman!” Their support gave me a much-needed boost.

Initially, I had planned to pick up my pace in this final stretch. However, a twinge in my left hamstring signaled the onset of a cramp. Likely compensating for my injured right calf, my left leg was bearing extra strain. I abandoned the idea of speeding up and focused on maintaining an even rhythm.

While my pace wasn’t faster, I steadily overtook other runners who were struggling, having spent too much energy earlier in the race. This is where smart pacing made all the difference.

The Final Kilometer: A Battle to the Finish
As I neared the finish line, I saw the landmark resort condominium in the distance. Beyond it lay the end of the race. The sign reading “1K to go” brought memories of my training sessions to mind. “Just one more kilometer,” I told myself. “You’ve got this.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my right calf, as if stabbed by a knife. “Not now!” I screamed internally. Slowing down to cope, I mustered every ounce of positive energy to keep moving. Smiling at spectators, I hoped their cheers would spark some magical burst of adrenaline to see me through.

The final stretch began with a pebbled section. Running on it in my yoga socks was agony. The pain in my soles almost made me forget about my cramping calf. Once the pebbles gave way to soft grass, I tried to kick for the last 30 meters. But my right calf seized completely, locking up and throwing me off balance. I limped across the finish line, determined not to give up.

Post-Race Reflection
The race was over. I had done it. Relief, joy, and disbelief washed over me. Despite the setbacks—my calf issue and less-than-ideal tapering—I had completed the marathon. Gratitude filled me for the experience and the lessons it brought.

The Aftermath

The next day, I was barely able to walk without a stick, and I’ll likely remain this way for a while. But I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.

＜初心者に教えてあげたいオートバイの防寒対策について＞

＜初心者に教えてあげたいオートバイの防寒対策について＞

大型自動二輪免許を取得してまもなく丸5年を迎える比較的初心者ライダーの自分の過去数年の真冬は、防寒対策に明け暮れる日々だった。今日はそんな自分が試行錯誤の末に辿り着いた暫定の最強防寒対策を３つ紹介する。情報共有の一番の理由は、防寒アクセサリーの購入を検討している初心者ライダーの皆さんの出費抑制につながると思うからだ。

＜結論＞

オススメの防寒対策は以下の３つに集約される：

１）トップスは革ジャンの上にニット

２）手の寒さ対策は、どんな高級手袋よりも、ハンドルカバー

３）太腿対策は、マフラー

以下、各項目を理由と共に詳述する。

１）トップスは革ジャンの上にニット

バイクには革ジャン。異存のある人は少なかろう。しかし見た目にはカッコイイ皮ジャンだが、真冬の寒風にさらされると、外面は瞬く間に凍り付く。数十分も走行すると、外面の冷気が素材を中に伝わり、中に着ている衣類を冷やし、冷気はやがてインナーに達する。この状態になると走行は快適とは言い難くなる。ではどうしたら良いか？

ヒントは羊（ヒツジ）にあった。野生動物のヒツジは真冬に衣類を着なくても外で凍え死なない。そこでヒツジの防寒構造を精査したところ、皮膚の外に体毛を纏うという構造に気が付いた。これをライダーの衣類に当てはめると、革ジャンの上にニットを着るという構造にたとえることができる。早速実験したところ、予想は的中した。厚手のニットは、それ自体は風を通すために全く防寒にならないのだが、革ジャンの上に纏うと、革ジャン外面の温度低下の最大の原因である寒風の直撃が緩衝されて、革ジャンが冷えにくくなるのだった。

革ジャンの上に纏うニットは極論何でも良いと思う。今日はトレジャーファクトリーで0.1万円で買ったIndian Motorcycleというブランドの中古のニットジャケットを着ているが、昨年は、セカンドストリートで0.05万円くらいで買ったざっくり目の中古のニットを着た。前開きになっていてジッパーのついているものと、ホックで留めるタイプを二つ着まわしていた。風を遮るのが目的ではなく、革ジャンへの寒風の直撃を緩衝するのが目的なので、多少隙間が開いていても平気だ。

尚、この方法にはデメリットがある。レーシングタイプのバイクでは、親和性が未知だという点だ。クルーザーオーナーの自分からすると、レーシングタイプのライダーさんは、美意識が高い人が多いように見える。従って、私のオススメが受け入れられる可能性は低かろう。

一方、クルーザーバイクには、ニットでバイクといういで立ちが、かえってリラックス感を向上させるため、思いの外しっくりフィットする。クルーザーのオーナーさんは試されたい。

２）手の寒さ対策は、どんな高級手袋よりも、ハンドルカバー

手の寒さ対策は、どんな高級手袋を買うよりも、ハンドルカバーを買った方が良い。0.3万円程度で買える。ハンドルカバーは、１）でも解説した「寒風の直撃」を緩衝してくれる。その結果、装着している手袋の温度低下が限定的で済む。

「寒風の直撃」の恐ろしさと、「寒風の直撃を緩衝する」ことの効果を知らなかった最初の２年間に、どれだけの手袋を買っては試行錯誤を繰り返したことだろう。手袋は決して安くない。中には電気の力で温めてくれるタイプの物もある。グリップそのものを暖かくする設備投資も存在する。電気で手そのものを温める手袋は、個人的に試したことは無いので評価は控える。読者の皆さんが、各自試されたい。一方、グリップヒーターについては、幼馴染の元ライダーから「役に立たない」と聞かされていたので、無駄に散在せずに済んだ。尚、グリップヒーターに関する前述の評価は彼の私見なので、投資に見合った価値を見出す人が居ても驚かない。そうした方々は今後もグリップヒーターを利用されよう。

私の今回の主張は、0.3万円前後の投資で、手の寒さ問題は、ほぼ恒久的に解消できる、というものだ。そしてハンドルカバーは、雨が降っても手袋が濡れないメリットもある。

これは余談だが、グリップヒーターを装着しているライダーさんがハンドルカバーをも装着したら手元の暖かさはどうなるだろう？私はそこまで散在する気はないが、定めし常夏のハワイのような暖かさに包まれるに違いない。

そんなハンドルカバーも２点弱点がある。1点目は、シンプルに見た目がダサいこと。２点目は、ウインカーやライトの操作が、少しだけぎこちなくなる点だ。カバーごしの操作になるからである。しかしこれはしばらくすると馴れる。

一方、１点目のダサさ問題につける薬は・・・無い。「ダサかっこ良い」と開き直るしかすべはない。

３）太腿対策は、マフラー

太腿の対策は、マフラーだ。首に巻くのではない。家にある使っていないマフラーをボトムスの腿の前面に差し入れるのだ。厚手の物ほど効果が高い。今日の私は、セカンドストリートで0.05万円で買ったMade in Italyの超暖かいウール100%のマフラーを4つ折りにして差し入れている。これが超絶に暖かい。今日はLevi'sのデニムで最高気温11℃の千葉県中部の山間部を走行したが、皮パンにマフラー無しより、デニム＋マフラーの方が相対的に暖かいと感じる。これを皮パン＋マフラーにしたら、長年懸案だった太腿問題も、ほぼ恒久的に解消できると自信を育んだ。

しかしここに至るまでの道のりは楽ではなかった。昨年は、ワークマンのフュージョンダウンのハーフパンツをワットマンという古着屋で0.05万円程度で買い求め、それをボトムスの外に穿いたり、中に穿いたりして試した。

結論から言うと、この方法は、「防寒」の一点に絞れば、「合格」だった。しかし別の点で及第点をあげられなかった。それは「装着・脱着の手間」だ。目的地に着いた後、ボトムスの上に装着したフュージョンダウンのハーフパンツは、そのままでは町を歩けない。脱ぐためには厳ついロングブーツを脱がないといけない。面倒くさい。フュージョンダウンのハーフパンツを中に穿いている場合は、襁褓（むつき）をはめた赤ん坊のように尻の周りが膨らんでダサい。脱ぐためには公衆トイレでブーツを脱ぐ必要があり、これまた面倒だ。

一方、ボトムスに差し入れたマフラーは腰のボタンを数個外せばすぐに引き抜ける。駐車場のように人目の少ない場所であれば10秒もかからない。靴の脱着・再装着も不要だ。

尚、この方法が効果的である一番の理由は、寒風の直撃を受けるボトムスの外面の冷気が、肌に届きづらいことにある。ウールのマフラーは4つ折りにすると７～８mmの厚みになるのではないか？この距離、そして人間の体温を保持する天然素材の特質のおかげで、凍てついた外気の皮膚への直撃が、著しく緩衝されるのだろう。

＜まとめ＞

今日は、初心者に教えてあげたいオートバイの防寒対策について３点解説した。それは以下の３点だ：

１）トップスは革ジャンの上にニット

２）手の寒さ対策は、どんな高級手袋よりも、ハンドルカバー

３）太腿対策は、マフラー

上記は、これからバイクライフをエンジョイしようと思っている初級ライダーさんにとって極めて有益だ。なぜならば、真冬の快適ライドの最大の要と言える防寒問題に、安価な解決策を提供するからだ。浮いたお金は、２年後の車検費用に回すと良い。車と違ってバイクは何かと整備にお金がかかるので。

皆さんの快適バイクライフの参考になれば望外の喜びです。まる。

Race Recap: No Hill, No LIfe! 40th Kyoho no Oka Road Race - September 22, 2024 / 巨峰の丘マラソン20キロの部

On September 22, 2024, I took part in the 40th Kyoho no Oka Road Race in the quaint town of Makioka, Yamanashi Prefecture. I ran the 20K (though officially, it’s 18.3K) and finished with a time of 1:42:16. Here’s how it all went down.

<Pre-Race Preparation>  

To avoid the hassle of a long early morning train ride, I stayed overnight in Central Kofu and took the 8:01 train to JR Yamanashi-Shi Station. There, I caught the shuttle bus to the race venue. A good night’s sleep in a comfy hotel left me feeling refreshed and ready to go in the morning.

Even though I arrived at the bus pool in plenty of time, the shuttle was delayed, which meant I got to the venue just 20 minutes before the scheduled start. It was a mad dash from there. Still, I couldn't resist snapping a few photos of the lively start area before getting changed. 

After picking up my bib and quickly changing, I barely had 5 minutes to spare before making it to the start line. The energy in the air was electric as everyone geared up to tackle one of the most challenging courses in the Kanto-Koshinetsu region.

<The Race Begins>  

At 9:40, the gun went off, and we were off. The streets were lined with spectators, cheering and snapping photos as we charged ahead. The first challenge hit fast—a steep downhill, followed by a brutal uphill. Within minutes, you feel the burn in your legs, your breathing gets heavier, and the temperature feels like it's rising. It’s like being in a sauna!

Here’s a look at the race’s elevation map, which speaks for itself—it’s brutally hilly. For pacing, I broke the race into four 5K sections.

<First 5K: Warming Up>  

The first 5K serves as a warm-up. If you’re used to sub-5-minute splits, you’ll need to add about a minute for each kilometer. The incline is that steep. There are some downhills along the way, and if you're lucky, you might catch a glimpse of Mt. Fuji. Unfortunately, today was overcast, and Mt. Fuji stayed hidden behind dark clouds.

I focused on conserving energy on the uphill and staying steady on the downhill, making sure not to push too hard early on.

<5K to 10K: The Climb>  

As the course split between the 10K and 20K runners, the real climb began. The 10K runners veered left, downhill, while we 20K runners turned right—straight into another uphill. This section was a grind, with a steady climb leading to the highest point just before the 10K mark.

My strategy here was simple: shorter steps, higher cadence, and keeping my eyes on the ground ahead, not the endless hill. This approach worked, and I reached the 10K mark faster than last year. From here, it was mostly downhill—except for three key climbs ahead.

<10K to 15K: Surviving the Wall>  

After a steep, winding descent, I hit the first big uphill of the second half, a straight incline that feels like running into a wall. By this point, your legs are feeling it, and it’s tough to maintain a fast cadence. You just have to grit your teeth and push through.

But after conquering that hill, you’re rewarded with the longest downhill stretch of the race. Most runners surge here, myself included, though I held back a bit. My minimalist shoes don’t provide much cushioning, and the pounding downhill takes a toll on the quads. Plus, I knew two more punishing hills were waiting for me at 15K and with 1K to go.

I was overtaken by quite a few runners in high-tech shoes on the descent, but I stayed focused. My goal was to run the race my way.

<15K to Finish: The Final Climb>  

Section 3 ended as we turned onto a narrow street, and the toughest hill of the race loomed ahead—a brutal 500-meter climb. Most runners slowed to a walk here, but I was determined to keep running. This race isn’t just about testing my fitness; it’s training for even bigger races ahead.

To my surprise, the runners who had passed me earlier were now struggling on the hill, some walking, while I managed to overtake them. But once we crested the hill, they surged ahead again on the downhill stretch.

As the course wound through more suburban streets, the roof of the elementary school gym—our finish line—came into view. But the race wasn’t over yet. One last hill awaited us, shorter but just as brutal as the others.

<The Final Push>  

The runners who had passed me earlier slowed on this final climb, and I gave it everything I had left. I passed a few familiar faces, including some of those runners in carbon-plated super shoes. Once I reached the top, I didn’t look back, focusing on the last 800 meters. 

No one passed me after that final hill, and I crossed the line feeling proud. My official time was 1:42:16, the 7th fastest time in my 12 years running this race. Not bad for a 58-year-old who once had a meniscus tear!

The Kyoho grapes they handed out at the finish were out of this world—definitely the best post-race treat I’ve had.

Thanks for reading, and I look forward to seeing all the citizen runners out there again next year. You all inspire me to keep pushing and giving it my all in races. I can't thank you enough.

Boston Marathon 2024

The 2024 Boston Marathon was held on April 15. Sisay Lemma of Ethiopia won with a respectable time of 2:06:17. 

Sisay, with a personal best of 2:01:48 from the Valencia Marathon 2023, took an early lead with a sudden burst of speed. No one chased him, which is not surprising. Boston is one of the toughest major marathons, with a series of big hills near the end where all sorts of drama can happen.

Though he slowed down a bit in the last few miles, allowing chasers to close in, he managed to maintain a comfortable lead through the infamous hills to touch the tape.

In the women's elite field, Kenya's Helen Obiri successfully defended her title with a time of 2:22:27. She ran neck-and-neck with her rival until a mile to go, but soon pulled away with an iconic burst of speed. 

In the elite men's field, Yuma Morii of Kyoto, Japan, finished 8th with a time of 2:09:59, becoming only the second Japanese after Toshihiko Seko to run the world's oldest marathon under 2:10:00. 

Paris Olympics nominee Suguru Osako finished 13th with a time of 2:11:47.

戦争の起源、男女差別の起源、農耕の起源/"Cannibals and Kings" by Marvin Harris

Marvin Harris, an acclaimed anthropologist, delves into the roots of cultures in his renowned work, "Cannibals and Kings." As I revisit this timeless piece, I find myself contemplating the ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine. You can access the book for free on Google Books, and it's worth a read. Personally, my interest in this subject waned in the 1990s, and I'm aware that much has transpired since then in the realm of cultural origins. It's likely that subsequent archaeological findings may have challenged or reshaped some of Harris's arguments. Nevertheless, the book remains captivating, offering readers fresh perspectives that encourage us to view the world around us through new lenses.

レースレポート：第56回青梅マラソン／Race Report: Ohme 30K Road Race 2024

On Sunday, Feb. 18, 2024, I ran the 56th Ohme 30K Road Race. The gun went off at 11:30 a.m. I crossed the finish line 2 hours 35 minutes 34 seconds later. The Ohme 30K is one of the most well-known road races held in Tokyo. For one thing, it's known for a long history. In fact, since 1975 it's had a sister partnership with the oldest marathon race in history--the Boston Marathon. Ohme and Boston have something in common. Both are infamous because of their challenging nature. Boston is infamous for the Heart Break Hill. Ohme is infamous for its out-and-back course with an altitude difference of over 85 meters.  You need strong legs, strong cardio, and a tactical approach. The following is a report of how I ran this challenging race.

*****************************

I stayed at Toyoko INN in Fussa the night before. Fussa is three stops from JR Kabe Station where the race starts. I hit the bed early and had a good night's sleep. I had a decent breakfast offered by the hotel a good three hours before the race. I avoided drinking coffee because caffeine can make you want to pee.

I reached the venue a good two hours before the race where I got together with my two runner friends. About forty-five minutes before the race, me and my friend went to porta pottis to take a pee. There was a long queue before porta pottis, but the turnover was quick and we didn't wait as much as we thought we had to. By the time we were done, it was already 20 minutes or so before the official time of start. The last tens of minutes can quickly pass. Me and my friend got some memorial photos taken with Ohme's iconic colorful balloons behind us. I reached my corral L, and my friend went on to get to his corral J.

The race was underway at 11:30. It took almost five minutes for me to finally reach the official start line. I excitedly waved at guest starter Mr. Tatsuhiko Hara, former Yomiuri Giants Manager. Once past the start line, runners started picking up the pace. But a minor congestion lasted for almost 30 minutes. It was only after I passed JR Miyanohira Station that I was finally able to settle into a decent pace.

Thanks to the slow pace in the first 5K, it wasn't so hard to inject the pace after the 5K mark. I was able to overtake a significant number of runners between 5 and 10K. Near the 10K mark, I found my cheerleader and waved at her. 

Between 10 and 15K, the incline gets gradually steeper, and over-paced runners start struggling. It made it easier for me to overtake yet more foregoing runners. While running this segment, the leader returned from the turning point. It was Olympican Akira Akasaki. He was literally floating from the rest of the field! It was over a minute or so that I saw a runner-up. Later I learned that Akira won by the second fastest course record. Congrats to the Olympian!

When I ran past JR Kawai Station, the Okutama Ohhashi Bridge was in sight on my left. The turning point is near. I ran economically, saving energy for an increase in pace that I was planning after the halfway point which comes a few hundred meters after the turning point.

When I finally reached the halfway mark, I injected the pace and started hammering down the hill. It is in this segment that most runners run the fastest. But few people near me seemed to run as fast as I did. Though I was significantly faster than most other runners near me, I could tell that the two years of setbacks caused by my left meniscus injury had made me weaker than before the injury. But it's no time to pity myself. I gave it everything I had to make up for the slow pace in the first 5K.

Around 19K the course flattens a little. I eased the pace to recharge my batteries. Shortly before 20K Sydney Olympics Gold Medalist Ms. Naoko Takahashi, a.k.a. Q-chan was giving a high five to passing runners. My lane was slightly away from where she was standing, and it was too late for me to redirect myself to receive her high five, but I had got one from her a couple of times in the past, so I continued to press on. 

At 20.5K shortly before JR Futamatao Station, the course starts to ascend.  This is the Ohme version of the Heart Break Hill. It's a long and steep hill. But what makes it hard is not only its length and steepness. Its timing and location are the main factors of challenge. For citizen runners who have only run half marathons, it is close to the upper limit of their training distance. Also, this steep hill atypically comes in the predominantly descending second half. It is no surprise that you see several runners make a stop during or after the hill and stretch their legs for temporary relief from a spasm. 

Once you reach the top of the hill, there is a long straight downhill. It is one of my favorite parts of the second half. There are few tall trees or buildings on the right. The sun shines strongly on you. The air feels awesome as you cut through it. The cheering from the sidewalks is enormous. Many locals come out along the road as it is the warmest time of the day.

The descent lasts for a couple of kilometers and the course flattens again. Then around the 25K mark, there are a last couple of upward inclines, not as long as the one near Futamatao. These are the final challenges for those who have only run half marathons. They are well into an uncharted territory. Many make a stop again, taking a longer break this time, stretching their calves and hamstrings. Their sight reminds me of myself doing the same on my first two attempts.  Years have passed since then. I've run longer distances many times. These hills are not easy, but manageable now. I keep on paying attention to my running economy, making sure I have enough to run the last 5K strongly.

Once past JR Miyanohira Station, it's all downhill for a couple of kilometers. The course then completely flattens in the last couple of kilometers. The roars from bothr sides of the course increase. The number of cheerers is noticably larger. Yellow traffic lights flicker as you run past each intersection. Traffic is completly shut off to welcome back battle-beaten runners. And I am one of them.

I looked for my cheerleader who was supposed to have returned from Sawai. There she was, holding a smartphone to take memorial photos! I ran wide to get a little closer to her, and then past her into the final stretch leading to the finish line. Oh, I love this moment. The last 200 meters. The sidewalks look packed with crowds, layer upon layer. They are going wild as runners get close to the finish line one after another! The arch that says the finish is finally in sight, but I can't see it clearly because the sun is so strong that it blinds me. It doesn't matter, though. I know where the finish line is. I accelerate, working my arms like a track athlete.  I throw my arms in the air, with a triumphant smile on my face, screaming, "I did it!"

My barefoot 30K race completed, 2 hours 35 minutes 34 seconds after the gun went off! The time is average, compared with my most recent records before injury. But I slashed almost 30 minutes off my record last year. One thing is certain. I'm now fully recovered from my knee injury. My mind-body is strong enough to withstand the challenges of the toughest of road races, and strong enough to do all the training leading to the race which was after all much much harder than the race itself.

My race season 2023 which started last June is now over. My next race is probably in June, and it's a 10K. I am going to lay a strong foundation first by running many long distances slowly, and then as the race nears, I will do some quality speed training. Cannot wait!

レースレポート：『第44回館山若潮マラソン』／Race Report : Tateyama Wakashio Marathon 2024

Jan. 28, 2024

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.