Tokyo Marathon 2015: Expectations and Reality

So, I finished the Tokyo Marathon... and am now dealing with the disappointment that came with it.

I started off really well. It felt like flying, going at a good pace with steady breath, steady heart rate and powerful legs... except for a twinge in the left knee.

Right after saying hello to my wonderful friends who came to cheer, I started feeling real pain. I tried different ways to stretch it out, and kept on going until the 23km mark, where suddenly my knee locked and I couldn't bend or land on it. I burst into tears of sheer sadness and disappointment. Had the knee not given out, I am pretty sure this would have been my fastest race yet. I had trained very hard, gone to the sports therapist to get my muscles and tendons properly stretched... all for nothing.

I hobbled over to the AED tent, and the kind volunteers stretched me out and taped up my knee. Hoping for the best I started running again. For about 5 steps. Nope. This was not happening. No can do. More tears and general despair.

And this is the interesting part. Until not too long ago I would have given up, since I obviously couldn't reach the 'perfect run' image jealously guarded in my mind. But instead I took a few breaths and re-framed the whole situation.
Okay, so a sub-5 hour marathon is out of the question. What CAN I do?

Oddly enough, walking wasn't all that painful, as long as I kept my knee from bending. Good. So the new goal is to finish the darn race and not get swept  (loaded into a bus that takes you to the end point because you are too slow to finish in the set time). I picked myself up and power-hobbled my way to the end, trying not to be too sad or jealous when my friends passed me (since its not their fault, for crying out loud). I ended up finishing in just under 6 hours, which is not bad for a hobble pace.

While I am proud of myself for finishing and not giving up when my 'ideal' was stripped away, some ambivalence remains. There is medal on my bedside table, and I am not sure I deserved it. I can't help but think 'what if the day had been warmer' (as the doctor said the long wait in the cold might have precipitated it) or 'maybe if I had just stretched it out a bit more'... ugh, annoying.

Nagoya Women's Marathon

After a several year hiatus from marathon running, 6 months ago I decided to get back into it.... not entirely sure what came over me, but I am so glad I did it!

Nagoya is almost perfectly flat, making it an ideal marathon for first timers or injured runners. The fact that it was women-only was also very nice, as we got to avoid the spitting, cup throwing and elbowing that male runners seem to indulge in so frequently.

The prevalence of the colour pink was a bit overwhelming, however.

It was my first time in Nagoya, so after picking up my race chip, Matcha-kun (who came along as crew) and I went off looking for kishimen (flat noodles in a miso-heavy broth) and a walk around Nagoya Castle. It is surrounded by lovely gardens, and we even got to see the plum trees in bloom.

The race itself was very well organized. I started off running with a couple of ladies introduced by a mutual friend, which helped me keep a steady pace for the first half. Eventually I pulled away, aiming for a quicker pace until the 35km point, where a bemused (as he doesn't quite get the point of running 42km) Matcha-kun awaited with Pocari and chocolate.

Eventually I finished in 5:13:47, and received the Tiffany's necklace (which they give in place of medals) from a adorable tuxedo-suited gentleman, along with a (thankfully!) purple t-shirt, towel, bottle of expensive face lotion and enough drinks and food for three people.

Thank goddess for Matcha-kun, who carried my bags and helped me hobble back to the station! Before leaving we both refueled at Komeda Coffee (a very famous coffee chain in Nagoya), and scarfed down a 'shironoire', a glorious croissant-like pastry topped with ice cream and maple syrup.

I am so proud of myself, as I hoped to finish in 5:30ish, and totally crushed that time. This has really boosted my running confidence, and am now already looking for the next event to sign up for!

Runner's High

Every once in a while, amidst the usual series of runs that range from the quite good to the downright awful, you get a glimpse of perfection.

One of those rare runs that remind you exactly why you lace up, despite the cold, despite the hour, despite the fact that all you feel like doing is curling up in a futon and getting scantily clad Oguri Shun look-alikes to bring you endless cups of Earl Grey tea (anyone?...oh, just me then).

These experiences sneak up on you. The first 10 minutes may feel unremarkable, if anything a bit on the sluggish side, but suddenly something else takes over. Call it what you will, the runner's high or divine grace, it is unmistakable. Your body takes control, each stride smooth, your breath quiet and regular, your thoughts Zen-like in their passing. Your feet flowing seamlessly, effortlessly, as if you could run forever and never stop, into the purple and pink ombré of the sunset.

12 kilometres, over an hour of constant forward movement, pass in an instant. You are almost afraid to stop, a little sad as the memory chips in your calves guide you back home, because you know this state of endorphin-ridden grace will have to end. And you never know when it will reoccur, no matter how you try to recreate the circumstances to catch it again. I can only imagine that the true, ultimate goal of marathon running is to experience all 42 km in this perfect state.

Through the green, tapir-shaped basin of the Tsurumi river, with the wind cooling my face and Brooks Glycerins armoring my feet, I will continue to chase it.