On Feb. 16, 2020 I raced the 54th Ohme 30K Road Race that took place in Ohme City, Tokyo. I renewed my PR by slashing nearly 4 minutes off my previous course record from 2019. (See above.) I'm happy with the result, because it was my goal to finish under the gun time of 2:25:00, and I achieved the goal. Below is a report of how I ran the race.
On the morning of the race it had been raining up until half an hour to the race, but it had stopped by the time I started heading for my corral, Corral D. While trying to find my space in the corral, a race official advised me to wear shoes. I was a little surprised. Either there was a rule against running in bare feet which I wasn't aware of it, or he was ignorant of the IAAF rule that says athletes can either run in bare feet or by wearing footwear. I just said to him, "Too late. My shoes are in the locker, and it's a 10 minute walk from here," and settled in the front of the corral.
While waiting for the gun, I had my wind-breaker on to stay warm. There was a brief speech by 2000 Olympics gold medalist Ms. Naoko Takahashi a few minutes before the race, and it was before long that the race was officially underway when guest starter Ms. Homare Sawa, who is former captain of Japan's female national soccer team, fired the gun.
It took a while form me to reach the official start line. As I passed it, I called the name of Ms. Sawa who was up on a high stage set up next to the start line, waving at passing runners. She looked down to hear me and said, "Wow! Barefoot! Go easy!"
As I went down the street, the first thing I noticed was that there wasn't such a big gap between the gun time and the net time. It used to be huge when my time was pathetic, and my corral was way back. I felt a little proud about the entitlement.
I considered the first 5K as warm up. I carefully chose to run on painted lines to minimize damage to the sole.
Between 5 and 10 K where undulation increases, I picked up the pace on downhills and saved energy on uphills.
I saw an official display of time for the first time when I crossed the 10 K mark. It was 52 something. I was two minutes quicker than last year. My original plan was to slash a minute and a half in each half for a total gain of 3 minutes for the entire race. I was happy with the pace. From this point on I need to keep the steady pace until halfway.
Between 10 and 15 K the upward incline gets steeper. I continued to run as economically as possible to save energy for the second half where I was planning to surge.
Suppose you divide the course into 6 sections by 5K, there is always something worth noting about each section, but this 3rd section is unique in 3 ways.
First, it is in this section that you meet the leading group and subsequent stream of follower. Every year I enjoy cheering them on. This year the leader was Daniel Muiva Kitonyi of Kanebo, originally from Kenya. He was smooth and beautiful. I wondered how on earth he could generate such tremendously explosive power from his relatively small stature.
It wasn't until nearly half a minute later, though, that the second runner came. He looked familiar, but he went past so quickly and there wasn't time for me to recognize him. Later I found out it was Masaya Taguchi of Honda. He ran the famoust Hakone Ekiden when his Toyo University was at its best. He filled the gap and overtook Daniel in the last 5K to win the race!
The second thing worth noting is that my cheer leader awaits me in this section. It is near 12K mark near JR Mitake Station. It is one of the most popular cheering spots because the station is right by the course. Because the cheer leader was wearing a head piece with deer horns on it, I easily spotted her and thanked her for cheering. (See the photo below.)
The first thing worth noting is that the section requires you to be most tactical. The road gets suddenly narrower. It's hard to thread through other runners. If you run too conservatively, all the gain in the previous sections can quickly evaporate. On the other hand if you get too gung-ho, it can take a toll on your legs, which inevitably makes it hard for you to run the second half explosively.
After running a twisty road for a while, t here was a slight downhill, and suddenly the view opens up ahead of you. Then comes the last cheering spot of the first half near JR Kawai Station. The crowd gets bigger, and the energy level is through the roof! The turn point is near. Then I can see the official clock there.
I felt I ran the second fairly tactically. Not only was I able to overtake a significant number of runners who had been running before me, but also when I was about to reach the highest peak of the course where the course takes a U-turn and starts descending, I was still full of legs without any sign of strain in either of my legs. When I finally saw the clock at the peak, I discovered I was right. I was bang on 2 minutes quicker than last year. I kept my earlier gain.
A couple of hundreds of meters down the turn point there is the halfway point. As I crossed it, I said to myself, "Now the race is on. The real gain begins."
I changed gears and hurtled down the road. Some runners near me were apparently startled by my sudden increase in pace. It was that abrupt and enormous. I threaded through slower runners as if there was no tomorrow. Between 15 and 22.5K the course goes down much of the way. There are upward inclines occasionally, but they are brief and resistance is insignificant.
At 22.5K the first of the two major challenges came, what I respectfully call the heart break hill of Ohme. It's a nearly 500M uphill. It's not insanely steep, but its appearance at this particular stage of race makes it rather difficult to manage. For most half-marathoners, anything beyond 21.1K presents a significant challenge. The effect of too fast a pace in the earlier stage of the race typically shows here. I learned it the hard way years back. But not any more. When I reached the bottom of it, I said to myself, "Here comes the cherry of the cake." I pulled my chin down, took shorter and quicker steps to run up it rhythmically.
As I came near the end of the hill, the crowd got bigger and cheering wilder. Every year a large band of drummers awaits runners here, and there were deafening drum beats as I thankfully waived back at the drummers who were waving their sticks at runners.
With the heart break hill behind me, there is only one more uphill. It's near the 5K mark near JR Miyanohira Station. Until then the course is mainly going down. It's one of the last remaining opportunities to slash time. However, my legs were stinging a little, and I could feel one side of me wanted to settle into a comfortable pace. But another side of me said no, which forced me to change gears once again to hammer down the hill like a mad dog.
As I overtook one runner after another, I checked their starting corral printed on their bib. I saw a number of As on the bibs of female runners. I was overtaking some female runners from the fastest corral! That seemed like an improvement.
Shortly after the course leveled off, I found myself at the bottom of yet another uphill. This is the last uphill of the course. It's not so steep, nor is is so long. But just like the previous incline at 22.5K, its location at this particular stage of race makes is a cruel test of endurance for most inexperienced runners. And this year I didn't feel like I was one of them.
Soon I found myself grabbing a cup of water from the fluid station near the 25 K mark, which is just before the highest point of the rest of the course. Now came the last opportunity to slash time, the last downhill portion before the finish line. I gave it everything I'd got. I didn't care if my legs might fall apart, or bloody blisters might rupture.
Near the 27K mark the course levels off, and after that it's all flat. The size of the crowd gets bigger with each step as I goes farther into the city center. With only one more kilometers to go for the first time in the race I eased my pace only slightly and soaked up the insanely festive atmosphere and enjoyed the prospect of the approaching finish line.
Traffic lights flickered at intersections blocking all traffic except for that of runners. Spectators who remembered me from the start of the race yelled, "Go, caveman!" and welcomed me home.
Up ahead I saw a wall of spectators not only on both sides of the street, but also directly in across from me, which means it is the last intersection before the finish. Around the corner from there to the right is the home stretch leading to the finish. I looked around for my cheerleader. There she was, holding up her smartphone to take photos of me corning like I was on rails!
Once into the home stretch, there was only 180 meters remaining. The cheers from the crowd were deafening. I found one last effort when the finish arch was in sight that was decorated with colorful balloon. My soles hurt, but it didn't stop me from accelerating. The arch got nearer and nearer, and finally I was on the other side of it with a whole bunch of runners who were no longer running.
It was only after the race was over that I learned my time was well under my target, because I didn't have my watch on.
Immediately after crossing the line, a cable TV crew member asked me for an interview, so I gladly complied. A reporter asked me why I was in a caveman's costume, so I told her it matched bare feet most. Startled, she looked down on my feet and goes, "Holy cow! You ran 30K in bare feet!?"
That night my soles hurt so badly it took a couple minutes for me to walk a hundred meters, but it seemed such honorable pain because it's the price of gain.
the 54th Ohme 30K Road Race
