For years I have admired the tenacity and willingness of marathon runners. I have always enjoyed running. There is something about this activity that is so relaxing, so in the moment — a way to put our thoughts on hold and simply let go by going the distance.
On Monday 11/23/09, I had the opportunity to participate in my very first full marathon along with 10,000 Japanese runners in Fukuchiyama-shi, about 30 km south of Kyoto. It was undoubtedly one of the top 100 highlights of my life so far. Perhaps the best way to adequately recount the feeling that a marathon runner experiences throughout the event is to equate it with a tree leaf floating down a river. The feeling of flowing along with a current of runners over a 42.195 km course along the edge of a river while enjoying the colorful view of trees that fall season tends to offer (especially in Japan) was certainly priceless.
Looking back, I cannot help but remember the feeling of “weightlessness” as the flow of people/energy helped carry us through the first half of the course. In this regard, it became clear to me that the encouragement that each of us received throughout each of the 42,195 metres coming from the children, volunteers, and spectators standing on the sidewalks was the “fuel”, which allowed us push through the most challenging moments of the event. Some of the most common phrases that I managed to overhear were: “GAMBARE!!! & “FIGHTOOO!!!” Indeed, fight we did… but not with each other but with ourselves.
Generally speaking, it is clear that running such a long distance is not something that our bodies are designed to do on a regular basis. This is why it is not uncommon for marathon runners to train by running shorter distances with more reps over a long period of time prior to race day. Without this training, it is unlikely that the majority of the competitors would be able to complete the event; let alone walk away from the finish line on their own feet. In addition to the distance and the terrain of the course itself, each runner most also face a variety of different obstacles such as the weather, muscle soreness, cramps, chafing, leakage issues (a.k.a. pipi & caca… ;), etc.
Fortunately, after receiving advice from my brother and other experienced runners, I was able to adequately prepare to face each of these hurdles mindfully. In this respect, I must admit that applying Vaseline throughout my body and feet, plus using "sports-tape over my nipples" saved me a lot of unnecessary adversity (Thank you for the advice). On the other hand, the one piece of advice (or warning) from which I could not escape was that “the real race does not start until about one passes the 30 km mark”. To say that they were right would be an understatement. After managing to reach the 34 km with a decent pace (58 mins for each of the first three 10 km sets), my knees and hamstrings became tight making it difficult to continue on keeping the same pace.
As soon as pain began to make itself present, I was fully aware of the fact that I could push through it (after all, this is the kind of pain that I’ve encountered before in different sports); however, the possibility of injuring myself by the repeated trauma/punishment coming from the pavement and into my knees led me to reconsider my course of action. Thus, I decided to stop for a few minutes in an attempt to stretch out my joints and eventually return to “flowing” in the river of pavement and people that was before me. To my surprise, this attempt would prove to be futile for I soon realized that walking was even more painful than ‘jogging’. Consequently, I decided to jog mindfully through the pain by accepting each step as one came after the other. I fixed my sight on the pavement and proceeded to uncloud my mind about how many Kms were still ahead of me.
I reached the finish line with a time of 4 hrs 51 minutes (nothing impressive in comparison to the first runner’s 2.5 hrs); however, for me taking part in this experience was not so much about the time but more about completing the course and walking away satisfied with my efforts. In this regard, I can proudly say that I was extremely humbled by what I experienced at each step of the race. Most notably was witnessing how each of the runners would bow back to the course in order to show their respect and gratitude for the “good fight” that it had presented them. Furthermore, I discovered that what I lacked was not a shortage of fitness, but simply the experience and the miles under my belt prior to race day.
Now… if you are a runner, there’s no need for me to tell you what the aftermath was like. To my surprise, I was quite calm (and still standing) right after the race, but as the hours passed the pain and stiffness in my legs began to increase until eventually... well, suffice to say that walking and climbing down the stairs became challenging. Worst still was the three-hour drive back to Osaka, which I had to endure without much room in which to stretch my legs in. As a result, as soon as I stepped out of the car and attempted to climb the steps of the train station, my legs simply wouldn’t listen to my commands… this was humbling indeed.
I ended up missing the last train to Tsuruga and resolved to spend a second night at my friend Sandra’s place (to whom I’m very grateful), woke up early the next morning and managed to catch a train back to Tsuruga at 7:38 AM from Kyoto Station. Got home, put a suit and tie on and booked it to work.
Suffice to say that for me this was an experience I will forever treasure as I continue to look forward to future marathons both internationally and within Japan in the not-so-distant-future.
To all runners out there: Namaste.
Sincerely,
IkEr
“My time, the rank I attain, my outward appearance — all of these are secondary. For a runner like me, what’s really important is reaching the goal I set myself, under my own power. I give it everything I have, endure what needs enduring, and am able, in my own way, to be satisfied. From out of the failures and joys I always try to come away having grasped a concrete lesson. (It’s got to be concrete, no matter how small it is.) And I hope that, over time, as one race follows another, in the end I’ll reach a place I’m content with. Or maybe just catch a glimpse of it.”
- Haruki Murakami (“What I Talk About When I Talk About Running”)
