Kitakuwada Senior High School Marathon

Tradition holds that, in November of each year, senior high schools (for students aged 15-18) throughout Japan hold a marathon. Up until about 20 years ago, these races were the full 26.2 miles marathon distance. Nowadays, most schools have reduced the distance to somewhere in the region of 15-20KM, but kept the marathon title. All road races in Japan, no matter what the distance, seem to be called marathons.

I arrived at work on marathon day with an unusual spring in my step. A few weeks previously, I’d been told that I could run in the race, the only member of staff to be allowed to do so as the rest would have marshalling duties, but on the condition that I had to “try and win it”. This was a 20KM out and back, undulating road race through a rural valley lined with rice paddies. Every school student was expected to attempt the race, and given a target time to aim for. If a student failed to complete the race within the target time, they have to do the race again a few weeks later!

All of the students assembled on the baseball pitch to listen to a speech delivered by the school Principal, and then took part in some mass stretching exercises. At the appointed hour, all the male students gathered quietly on the start line for their 20KM effort. The female students stood or lounged around watching the spectacle, as they were to have a few moments reprieve before their 15KM effort kicked-off. As is my wont, I jogged over to the front of the start line with only a few minutes to spare. Most students hadn’t realised I was doing the race, and they gave me a spontaneous round of applause.

When the signal was given to start, the students surged forward, many sprinting at full tilt. After 400M we left the school grounds, and I saw one student pull over to the side, bent double and breathing heavily, paying the price for his early enthusiasm. I could see a lead pack of a dozen runners some way out in front of me, and I decided to work slowly at pulling them back, which I did just before the 1^st mile, which we went through in a breezy 5:45.

Settling into the middle of the leading pack, I counted 9 boys. This pack remained together for the next 3 miles, averaging 6:10 mile pace. Between the 5^th and 6^th miles, the pack began to break up, with a few boys drifting off the back. 4 boys stole away from the rest of the field as they increased the pace once they sighted the cone in the road that marked 10KM and the turnaround point. We began to pass runners who were on the other side of the road still on their way out, and several shouted and waved enthusiastically. Some students were seemingly astonished that I was with the leading pack, as several pointed at me and laughed as they shouted “Michael Sensei!”

At 7.5 miles we rounded a sharp, blind bend, and one student made a sudden break for it. By the time the road straightened, he already had a 20M lead. I decided to chase him down, and quickly caught him. By 8 miles, the boy in 2^nd place had caught us both. Sadly for him, he had clearly spent his reserves, and quickly fell back again, never to be seen again. Mr Y, the race leader, was clearly nervous being out in front by himself, as he kept on turning his head around to see what was going on behind him. He ran straight past the final drinks station at 15KM. I slowed for a quick drink and Mr Y opened up a gap, which he maintained till the finishing tape.

 

Turning into the final straight, I tried to look photogenic as I made a push for the finish area next to the school’s main entrance, and spotted the Principal stood just a few yards in front of the line. As I approached him, he stretched out a hand in the unmistakable international language of “high-5”, which I willingly obliged him with. I think we must have both had very broad grins on our faces as I crossed the finish line in 1 hour 18 mins.

Later, I congratulated Mr Y on his win. He asked me if I’d let him win. I told him that he’d won fair and square. Overall, I was very impressed with the enthusiasm with which the students approached the whole event. They seemed really cheerful and happy to participate in what was a tough race. There was a great atmosphere in the finish area as teachers served the students bowls of stew and they sat around on benches in front of the school for a well-earned rest. This was perhaps the best day’s work I’ve ever had.

Veteran

There comes a time for every runner when, due to advancing years, they leave their Senior Runner days behind and become a Veteran. In the UK, 40 years of age traditionally marks this watershed. So I was taken by surprise when I discovered that, at the tender age of 33, I’m considered to be a Veteran in Japan.

As I crossed the finishing line of the recent Kyoto Tamba 5KM Road Race in 4^th place, I’d naturally assumed that, being denied a podium position, any prizes or glory had escaped my grasp. I quickly got changed, did a few miles easy jogging, and headed home. Unbeknown to me, a prize ceremony took place whilst I was jogging around the woods close to the track stadium where the race had finished, and the prize for the 1^st Veteran finisher went unclaimed.

The results of the race were published in a local newspaper a couple of days later. I was stopped in the corridor at work by a fellow teacher who congratulated me and enquired as to what prize I’d received. I had no idea what they were talking about and told her that as the 4^th finisher, I hadn’t won anything. Later that day, a group of teachers, all of whom had also seen the said article, discussed the situation and explained to me that I’d won the Veteran aged 30-49 category of the race and was, therefore, eligible to claim a prize.

 

Phone calls were made and a teacher popped out of work on my behalf to the track stadium, and I was presented with my first ever prize as a Veteran Runner by the school Vice Principal, to the accompaniment of a round of applause from the staff still present in the teaching room after the days lessons had concluded. I got my first glimpse of the sort of prizes given out to runners in Japan The haul included a bottle of locally produced wine, a certificate, a trophy and 2 pens. Some runners don’t like being classified as a Veteran, with its connotations of sunsets and best years being behind you, but I’m not complaining.

Kyoto Tamba 5K Road Race

The Kyoto Tamba 5K was part of a running festival with a range of racing distances on offer from 3K up to half-marathon. Being my first race in Japan, I was unsure of what to expect. As the runners lined up before the race, I had my first chance to look at the competition. There were around 200 runners in this race, with most people having opted for the half. As I looked ahead from the start line, I could see that the first 100 metres was straight up a hill which I couldn’t see beyond, so I decided to take the first stretch at an easy pace.

 

Predictably perhaps, many runners surged ahead and sprinted up the first climb after the starting gun was fired. By the time I crested the hill, some of the early enthusiasts were already fading back. I glanced around and saw a leading group of three men to my left beginning to break away from the main field, so I put in a little surge to latch on to the back of the group as we rounded a bend to exit the park. There followed a half-mile of steady descent towards the local town, during which I drew up alongside the lad in third place who was wearing a white vest and would go on to win the race.

 

We then ran through a 600M stretch of the town along a traffic-free side road. People stood in the entrances of shops and apartment blocks and applauded us as we sped along and I tried to stay in contact with the leading group. After about 2KM, the road turned up a 400M sharp climb, during which the leading pack of three men left me behind. The road soon levelled out again and a man in a red vest, who’d been leading the race from the gun until this point, had also been dropped from the front pack, with white vest taking the lead. The positions remained unchanged until the finish.

 

As I approached the running track and finishing area, I could see that red vest was coming back towards me, so was pleased that I had something to keep focussed on and worked to try and close the gap. Entering the track about 30 metres behind red vest, I knew that I’d  have to pull something spectacular out of the bag to get past him, but it wasn’t to be. I finished in 4^th place, in a time of 17:22. This is exactly the same time I finished my last race, the Sunderland 5K, in July. It might be a while before I can run sub-17 mins again, but I’ve got several more races lined up over the next few months which I’m really looking forward to, especially after today’s first foray into racing in Japan.