Back on track

With no races planned after the 1st, January was never going to be an eventful month, and so it proved to be. For the first two and a half weeks of the month, I stuck rigidly to the training schedule that my coach has drawn up. Then I was struck down by a virus. I did a track session on the morning of Saturday 18^th January. Six 400 Metre reps, with a three minute jog interval. I should have felt fresh and have been flying; I wasn’t. I felt excessively tired. I woke up the next day with a pounding headache. A week of enforced rest followed, giving me time to think about my training.

Over the last few months, I’ve increased the workload that I can handle, getting used to training six days/running up to 50 miles a week again. So a reasonable level of base fitness has been built up. However, I have felt stuck in a rut with my training for a while. I’m just not making progress. My times are not coming down. I woke up one morning with the realisation that I’ve not ran well since late 2011. Something has got to change.

The first priority is to get back to training on a tartan track. Training once or twice a week on a tartan track has proven itself as transformational to my running in the past. The cinder track that I’ve been using for the last 5 months is just not cutting the mustard. Figuring out how to get regular, reliable access to a decent track has been a challenge. I sought and begged for help. Basically, with a lot of paper work and a small fee, I’ve found a way to train on a tartan track on a Friday and Sunday afternoon, each week. Not ideal days, but with some jigging around of my training schedule, it can work.

I was thrilled to get the chance to do two track sessions this week, having bounced back from the virus. It was hard. I am even more unfit than I thought I was. Yet, I know this is the solution. Training on a tartan track means I can make a comeback, albeit slowly. The second step is to re-introduce training twice a day. I’ve never been keen on this. Getting out of bed at the crack of dawn to put in a few miles before going to work is brutal. I did train twice a day, five days a week, in the build up to my first marathon in 2010. I ran several personal bests on the back of that training. Therefore, I’ve started running twice a day. Just two miles in the morning a couple of times a week to begin with, before I try and increase this to running twice a day, five times a week. 

That’s the plan anyway. It does feel good to be back on (tartan) track.

Kameoka New Year’s Day Road Race

Many Japanese people like to welcome in the New Year by viewing the New Year’s first sunrise. January 1st is seen as an auspicious day, believed to be representative of the whole year that has just commenced. Therefore, the day is supposed to be full of joy and free of stress and anger, whilst everything should be clean and no work should be done.

For my part, I took in the New Year’s sunrise as I walked to the train station, in a bid to join nearly a thousand other hardy souls who were beginning the New Year as runners hope to carry on; with fresh air, the open road, adrenalin, joy, pain, and the optimistic pursuit of achieving new goals and personal bests. The highlight of the race schedule was a 10K race. I chose the 5K event, partly because I have a preference for this distance.

The 5K began at 10:05am, 5 minutes after the mass start of the 10K, with 300M of a running track, before hitting the main road outside the sports stadium that was hosting the event. Turning onto the road we were faced with a bracing, icy, head wind. The 5K and 10K races were both out and back affairs along the same straight stretch of road, so to pass the back runners in the 10K race, the fast 5K lads and lasses had to run the majority of the first half of the race in the middle of the road.

The turnaround point was a giant 6 feet tall red traffic cone with ‘5KM’ emblazoned across it. I’d passed a junior runner just a few metres before the cone, so tried to put in a burst as I turned away from the head wind. The nearest runner ahead of me was about 20 metres in front of me at this point. I decided to aim to at least keep that gap at the same distance, or close it if possible. It was wishful thinking. The gap gradually increased as we travelled along the gently undulating road back to the track, passing a convenience store, an American style diner and rice paddies along the route.

Entering the track stadium with 400M remaining, I looked at my watch for the first time in the race. It showed that I’d been running for 16 minutes 08 seconds, which meant that I was well off my target time. Wanting to start the year as I meant to go on, I stole myself to finish as strong as possible and crossed the line in 17 minutes 24 seconds.

After a week of living it up during the festive period, it was not a surprise that I was so far away from my race target. Still, running a race on January 1^st sets the tone for the year ahead. It’s a fresh year, and I came away from the race with a renewed sense of determination to make progress towards beating my 5K and 10K personal bests in 2014.

Christmas Holidays 2013

Although Christmas is not a holiday period in Japan, I took a few days off work this week, partly so I could visit some of the 16 UNESCO World Heritage Buddhist temples and shrines for which Kyoto City is famous for. As a result, my body is far from being a temple this season. I kicked off the holiday period on Saturday by going to Toji Temple. On the 21^st of each month the temple grounds play host to a flea market, and the huge bustling crowds were less interested in the temple than they were in bargain hunting. By contrast, it was rather quiet and peaceful around the main landmark of Toji Temple, a five storied pagoda that, at 57 metres, is the tallest pagoda in Japan.

On Sunday I was invited to a Ramen food festival in the World Exposition 1970 Commemorative Park in Osaka. Ramen has a strong cult following, with guide books listing and ranking the best Ramen shops in each prefecture. It was no surprise to me therefore that thousands of people were prepared to queue for up to an hour at a time in freezing conditions to sample Ramen from across Japan at the festival. I made a mistake by hungrily devouring three bowls of different types of Ramen, which was probably one bowl too many, thereby feeling too unwell to make it out for a run when I eventually made it home.

Being a normal workday, shops, restaurants, buses, trains and offices are all open as usual on Christmas Day. Turkey is a real rarity in Japan, so much so that some of my work colleagues have said that they have never eaten it, and asked me to describe what it tastes like to them! I have a British friend, from my home town Warrington, who has been living in Kyoto City for over a decade, who invited me over for Christmas dinner on Monday 23^rd. He chose this date as his Japanese wife had to work on the 25^th. Luckily, she had been on a recent trip to the UK and had stocked up on festive delights such as Christmas pudding, gravy granules, cranberry sauce and stuffing mixture – all of which is almost impossible to get hold of in Japan. With great difficulty, they had also managed to get hold of a Turkey. So I had a great time eating a traditional Christmas dinner, washed down by a giant 3 litre bottle of red wine.

Unsurprisingly, things got off to a slow start on Christmas Eve, though I did manage to make it to a 2pm tour of the old Imperial Palace in Kyoto. This served as the main residence of Japan’s Emperor until 1868 when the Emperor and capital city of Japan relocated to Edo, which was subsequently renamed Tokyo – itself an anagram of Kyoto. After a stroll around the tranquil Imperial Gardens, I went to see Kinkakuji, otherwise known as the Golden Pavilion. This is the most well-known tourist attraction in Kyoto. I guessed, rightly as it turned out, that the immense crowds which it is also known for were likely to be absent on a late afternoon on a cold Christmas Eve. There is certainly something special and captivating at the sight of the three storied gold leaf temple building reflected on the shimmering pond that it stands on. Again, I took an unscheduled rest from running.

Christmas Day was spent at home. I read somewhere that tennis ace Andy Murray was not going to see any friends and family over the Christmas holidays as he planned to stick to his usual training. Such Zen like commitment over the festive period is admirable. Nagging doubts crept into my mind that my running training was not going according to plan due to the excesses of partying and visiting temples. Therefore, I forced myself to make an attempt at a session by heading out for 8 x 1K reps with short recovery internals, before spending the evening sampling a selection of Kyoto Real Ales. In addition, I ate a Strawberry and cream cake, which is traditionally eaten by Japanese people on Christmas Day.

Feeling refreshed, I went to Ryoanji Temple earlier today, site of Japan’s most famous rock garden. The garden consists of 15 rocks laid out on a rectangular plot, surrounded by a sea of white pebbles. There is a special viewing platform where you can sit and study the rocks. The meaning of the garden is unclear, though there are different theories as to what the rocks are meant to represent. It is said that from any vantage point at least one of the rocks is always hidden from the viewer. I overheard one American tourist loudly proclaiming, with a note of disappointment in his voice, that it wasn’t true that you couldn’t see all 15 rocks. He was certainly correct that, if you stood up on the viewing deck and looked at the garden from as far back as you could physically stand, it was possible to just about see all 15 rocks. Perhaps, therein is the meaning of the garden: that only by occasionally stepping back can you see the bigger picture.

Talking of which, when I made it home I reflected upon the fact that I really should try to be more consistent with my training. Consistency is the key to improvement, though a few days of taking it easy in order to enjoy living in the moment does more good than harm.

Hotsu River Charity Run 5KM

The northern bank of the Hotsu River in Kameoka town was the scene of some charity fundraising running action this morning. Having only done 2 races in 4 months, I leapt at the chance to test out how my training is going now that I’m on the comeback trail. My plan was to treat this as a ‘run through’: just stick to my regular training for this week, with no race taper, and do this short blast in lieu of a long Sunday run.

 

Looking around at the runners at the front of the field on the start line, I was a bit concerned to see dozens of pre-teen youngsters, until I realised that the 2.5K kids run and 5K were starting together. After a bit of weaving around flailing youngsters who’d started at a sprint, I felt pretty good to be out in the lead after 400M. Being a charity fun run, there was never going to be a strong running field. Most of the first mile was on a tarmac cycleway, before dropping onto a stone-gravel path around several rice paddies.

It was a two lap affair, so I got a good chance to look at some of the other runners on the second lap. I had a healthy lead, but I ran each mile slightly slower than the one previous. It would have been nice to have somebody to chase. Crossing the finishing line in 16:55, my Garmin watch told me that I’d only ran a shade over 3 miles, and not the full 5KM as advertised. Whatever the actual distance was, I felt good, and pleased that I’d ran fairly strongly – an indication that maybe I might be able to run a sub-17 mins 5K again one day.

 

One thing that I noticed during this race is that marshals and spectators shouted, “Fight-o!”, as I ran along. Japanese people often use the word “Ganbarimasu” when offering encouragement, which loosely means “Do your best”, “Struggle to overcome hardship”, or simply “Fight”! I’m used to people in the UK shouting “Go on!” and “Dig deep!”, but this is an interesting variant on the theme.

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.