Run Apricot Run

Fujisan Marathon was the final marathon in the year of 16 marathons in 16 different states and/or countries. Rebadged from Kawaguchiko Marathon a few years earlier, the Fujisan Marathon runs around Lake Kawaguchi and Lake Saiko, with Mt Fuji in the background. Lake Kawaguchi and Lake Saiko are two of five lakes formed from eruptions from the extinct volcano that is Mt Fuji.

While Kobe eight days earlier had been unseasonably warm, by the Wednesday of Fukuchiyama the cold had returned, and indeed there had been an unseasonable heavy fall of snow in Kawaguchiko. We knew there would be snow on Mt Fuji, but as we bussed into Kawaguchiko on Friday afternoon it was evident there was about 25cm of snow covering the ground, including roadways, although the road ringing the lake had been cleared.

I hate snow. I hate snow because I don’t tolerate the cold at all well and I had such a big taste of the cold, snow and ice in Greenland I’d been determined that was it for me. Then of course I had to suck it up to run in Antarctica. I hadn’t considered a snow event would plague the last marathon in this group of 16!

The forecast was for around seven degrees for Saturday and slightly warmer for race day on Sunday. Sometime early Saturday I looked at the Fujisan marathon Facebook page. There was an update that led with “Decision made. Marathon will go ahead”. I was aghast! Apparently the conditions had been so poor that there had been debate about whether to proceed! Thankfully the race organisers had been able to arrange to clear the roads and it was considered safe enough now for Sunday. I would have been just one of 15000 disappointed runners come Sunday if it had been cancelled and thank goodness it wasn’t as there was no other option for me in Japan to run the 16th marathon with only two days to go to 365 days!

We walked from our hotel to bib collection on the Saturday. I was wearing every piece of clothing I owned and I was still cold! Bib collection was well organised although it became evident that there were two booking agencies and we were initially in the queue for the wrong agency. That corrected we picked up my bib and walked back to the hotel. Once there I realised I’d forgotten to take the Apricot Anne shirt our daughters had made for me, and with that in hand we walked back again in the freezing conditions for a photo. Good parents!

Our hotel was a traditional Japanese ryokan. Breakfast and dinner were part of the package and consisted of multi-course traditional Japanese cuisine served at a table looking straight at Mt Fuji. Absolutely beautiful.

I made sure I ate heaps of rice the night before the marathon but on the morning of the marathon I awoke quite nervous and felt almost unable to eat anything. I forced down some rice but the other 16 dishes of food went back to the kitchen.

We watched runners jogging toward the start from about 7am. Madness! The event started at 9am and around 8:30am we began the trudge along the cycle path, still covered in part in snow. I had spent a lot of time deliberating about whether to wear my usual marathon shoes that let out the sweat and let in the water (and cold and snow); or whether to wear a different, more waterproof pair I’d thrown into the suitcase that have a slightly wider toebox (in case my toe played up) but in which I’d only run about 80km. In the end I went with the former thinking I’d made it fine through rain in Fukuchiyama and I’d just have to make do. I threw a couple of bandaids into a pocket just in case I needed them. En route to the start Craig carried me over some deeper snow drifts!

This marathon had a 10km loop around the town before heading back to the lake and then across the bridge to where Craig had arranged to see me about 12km.

Once again my head was troublesome, letting me know this was hard and maybe I should stop. I came over the bridge with Mt Fuji behind me, waving to the photographers and then to Craig. I stopped running just as he was taking a photo and he made a comment about this that drew my ire. There was a short exchange of something to the effect from him of “suck it up” followed by some expletives from me that perhaps one did not need to know much English to catch the tone, and I ran on.

I sulked for the next 4km before my attention was drawn to a set of portaloos which seemed an opportune time to stop. I knew I had six hours to finish this marathon (less 15 minutes for the time it took to get over the start – they were running on gun time!) and like Fukuchiyama I was travelling along quite well in terms of making this time with ease. But back to the portaloos – I decided this was my moment to get some photos!

Not long after this I met a fellow who was running in a Marathon Maniacs shirt. He was Stuart from America but living in Japan. Stuart told me he does all his training inside on a treadmill and that he was finding the race a little tough. I walked and ran with him for a while however I eventually decided to press on when I spied another man up front who had said hello to us as he passed a little earlier.

The man in front was John from Melbourne. What a relief to hear him speak! Such an easy conversation and humour, and we stayed together from about 20km to the end. It was awesome.

John is a marathon veteran, having run his first marathon at age 24 years, and 44 years on, still going strong. John said he and his wife Tricia had arrived in Japan for him to run the marathon and then they were spending a few weeks touring. He had been to different places around the world to run marathons, including Russia! John’s strategy for Fujisan was to run for 6 minutes and 45 seconds, and then walk for 30-60 seconds. He had a timer set that let him know when to do what, and that’s what we did. By that formula and the pace we were doing I knew we’d be home in 5 hours and 30 minutes, below the cut off. That’s all I wanted – to finish under the time.

The event went right around both lakes. There was one massive hill in the middle on which a drumming band were performing – they were still there drumming away when we came back down.

Facebook had indicated there would be noodles prepared by a Japanese idle group at 25km and 35 km. I thought to myself – “good use of work for the dole recipients, helping with the marathon” but then realised they meant Japanese idol group as in music group! The queues for noodles were crazy at both locations – John and I were stunned to see so many people in lines of maybe 100 metres waiting for noodles, particularly at 35km when those same people should have been getting a wriggle-on to make the finish in time.

The event organisers were setting off fireworks every hour – you could hear them all around the course, and right on six hours they let off the last ones. Event over! I’m sure there were several thousand people behind us who wouldn’t have made the cut off, and it was noodles hand crafted by idols that slowed down hundreds of them!

Anyway I was regaling John with wild stories of things that have happened to me at different events (what happens on the run stays on the run) and he was returning the favour. With 3km to go he started to fade but there was no way I was leaving him. This was the first time he’d taken his phone in case he had to call Tricia to say he was a DNF and getting on the Losers’ Bus, but this was not to be! We came around the final bend and John’s wife called out “Nearly there John”.

Craig was at the finish line on the right just as he said and I called to him as we crossed.

John was thrilled to finish and I was extremely pleased we were done too. I actually felt pretty good and like in Uluru I could have easily kept going. Once again it’s the head and not the body that undermines my performance! John congratulated Craig on being able to put up with me because I talk so much but I’m pretty sure it was tongue in cheek.

By now I was basking in the glow of having finished the three events and Craig nearly had frostbite.

We walked back to the hotel wearing our rain ponchos and on entering the foyer were accosted by the manager who shooed us back to the tiles with towels in her hand and demanded we take off the wet outer layer! We made it to our room and I came down a little later and managed to purchase a bottle of plum wine (after some issues with translation!). We sat in the room looking out at the lake, half watching the sumo wrestling championship before donning the traditional Japanese lounge-wear and slippers to go back to the dining room to face the 16 course dinner. What an experience!

Fujisan Marathon was number 22.

Fukuchiyama Marathon ranks pretty high up the list for bizarre things I’ve done. It formed part of the three marathons in eight days I completed in Japan and it was really just pure luck that I was able to string together Kobe – Fukuchiyama – Fujisan simply because Fukuchiyama was run on a Wednesday! A Wednesday! Who does that? 10000 Japanese people it seems. Where in Australia would you ever get 10000 people running a marathon on a Wednesday, let alone in the middle of nowhere?

Nothing about Fukuchiyama was very easy for us. The event had a static website with no English translation and hence I had to rely on Google Translate to work out how to enter and all things that came after that. The entry procedure was common to most Japanese races, being through Runnet, but unlike Kobe and Fujisan where there was an English version, Fukuchiyama was only available on the Japanese language site. It wouldn’t accept my name and hence I had to enter Japanese characters gleaned from Translate, which is how my name came up as Apricot Sakaeri when it translated back again!  I contacted the race organisers several times asking for a little more information on a couple of points and to ask them to change my name and received no response. On the day of the event I found my name was changed so evidently they were able to work out what I was after.

I had looked for accommodation in Fukuchiyama for the night before the marathon and quickly realised there was nothing. This town was really small! We had planned on spending the day either side of the marathon in Kyoto which was two hours by train from Fukuchiyama, and with bib collection open 7-9am and the event at 10:30am, timing to get the 6:30am train and arrive before bib collection closed was going to be really tight.

Two days before we left for Japan an email arrived with a 16 page pdf document giving a substantial amount of detail about the event – all in Japanese. I spent ages cutting and pasting the information into Translate and was glad I did as one of the tips was that a special train was being run from Kyoto to Fukuchiyama on the day of the event. I could see from the detail that it was arriving around 8:20am and buses would take runners from the station to the start line and figured this had to be fine in terms of timing. Getting that train was the big sticking point of the day.

The night before the event we found an Italian restaurant right near our hotel and had a lovely pasta meal. One review of the restaurant had urged diners to ask for tomato beer however we had trouble conveying this to the staff and instead settled for sparkling white wine! I guess pasta is not unlike noodles, but eating pasta with chopsticks was quite a hoot.

I realised too I’d left my spi belt in Hiroshima after having washed it and left it to dry on a lamp in the hotel. A wonderful lady I’d met in Uluru who lives in Japan – Masako, had been messaging me and I asked her for the names of some Japanese sport stores where I could buy another. We located one in Kyoto and walked there. As we walked in the door the staff took one look at us and scattered! Nonetheless I found what I was after and all was good.

We had asked our hotel whether we could have our included breakfast to take on the train the next morning, given we’d be leaving for the station around 6am. With the response being a firm “No take out” we ordered a taxi and arrived at the station with plenty of time to buy a coffee and something to eat. Unfortunately the food vendors didn’t open until 6:30am and we had to settle for canned coffee out of a vending machine as the train departed right on 6:30am.

I was getting a bit worried by now about nutrition. We sat on the train for the next two hours watching the Japanese runners munching their way through countless sushi rolls while we had nothing. On arrival we bolted with the crowd from the train station about two blocks to the waiting buses. It was freezing! I was shaking so much just standing in the line and I was wearing multiple layers and gloves. By now I’d noted Craig and I were the only Caucasians in the vicinity, and at 195cm, Craig stood out, towering above the lines of people. We were relatively quickly onto a bus, followed on by more runners who flipped out little seats in the aisle of the bus, allowing it to carry another whole column of people.

On arrival at the sport centre it was apparent this was a basketball stadium in a large sport centre on the top of a big hill. It was just so cold. Everything was in Japanese. We had no idea what was going on. I knew my bib number from the Runnet site and approached the table where collecting the bib went smoothly. The quadrangle area outside the stadium was ringed with food stalls and we saw the choices were miso soup or sushi. Craig bought a box of sushi and being super hungry, I accepted this wasn’t my usual pre race meal, and almost inhaled three pieces of sushi.

There was a tiny line for a massive number of female toilets down an incline, although the line for the men’s toilets was reasonably long. Still shaking from the cold we decided rather than use these toilets, to go inside the stadium to escape the weather. The noise was extraordinary, with a running commentary from a very loud and excited Japanese lady, whom Craig later told me screamed happily into the microphone for three hours! Every available space was packed with runners. I found a queue to a female toilet and stood in it. A few minutes later a female runner approached me and beckoned for me to follow her. I did so and about 30 metres away were more toilets, with no queue! What a darling! I don’t really know why she approached me – perhaps the first queue had only the dreaded squat toilets available or maybe she chose me because I stood out a bit. Either way, she was amazing for doing so.

Getting closer to 10:30am we decided to venture back outside. I knew my start gate was around “G” from “I” gates. We followed the crowd and I entered the start area. Craig was able to walk right up to the tape separating runners from spectators, and we stood together for another 15 minutes or so before the start. I knew it was going to be pretty lonely for us both – at that point it seemed 9999 Japanese runners, and me! And heaps of Japanese spectators, and Craig!

Turns out there were two other Caucasian ladies there but they were behind me and I have no idea whether they spoke English either. Craig spent hours sitting inside the basketball stadium, surrounded by people, and completely alone!

We set off running in freezing condition and light rain. The first kilometre was down the hill to the road that led into the town. I was wearing a plastic poncho supplied by the race organisers and it was wonderful for both the rain and keeping a bit warm in those conditions. Around 5km I was warm enough to take it off and I folded it carefully and put it in a pocket because the forecast was for rain from 1pm.

I knew the second sticking point of the day was the 11km mark when the course finished the loop of Fukuchiyama and came back across to the bottom of the hill, just down from the start and where I knew Craig was sitting in the stadium. I had been having problems with my knee and had almost resolved to just finish Kobe (which I had) and abandon Fukuchiyama and Fujisan. I thought 20 marathons could be a good number on which to retire. I’d spoken about this with my running friends who had encouraged me to try all three marathons but had also supported the notion of stopping at Kobe. I also knew that the marathon had a six hour cut off and I had no hope of making that cut off if I walked. I had to run at least 14km at my usual race pace, and then I could walk if my knee was no good.

And so as I came around at 11km, still doing a fairly good time, the thoughts of “Stop; Stop now; Give up; You’ve done enough” and worse – “You can’t do this” were yelling very loudly in my head. I did a quick check of my body – everything felt surprisingly normal. My knee was good. I told myself I’d run another kilometre and didn’t get any support from the “Stop” thoughts. I searched for a solution and remembered Craig saying he had found singing a particular song helpful in the days of running when he had struggled, and thus launched into the many many verses and variations of that parenting classic “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round”. I must have sung that song for the next 5km. Anytime I stopped the negative thoughts cut back in but as I got closer to 16km I knew I was going to be fine. And I knew I’d make the cut off. I was running well.

The turnaround was at 24km and I had been thinking gratefully of the shorter leg back as there was no repeat of the loop. The road was wet from rain earlier that morning and as my shoes let sweat out (and water in!), my socks had been getting progressively wetter. I had wrapped my little toe in the dressing I’d been using very successfully to mitigate blisters. however the dressing became quite waterlogged and my toe suddenly became extremely painful, just 500 metres before the turnaround. So frustrating! I stopped when I saw a medic and using miming, indicated I’d like a new dressing. He gave me three plastic bandaids and made a sympathetic noise when he saw my toe, and off I went again.

My toe came good with the new coverings and next stop was the portaloos. None of them were Western style toilets! I’d Googled how to use a squat toilet, as our guide in Hiroshima had suggested all toilets in a little place like Fukuchiyama would be squats. I knew to ensure there was toilet paper within reach before attempting to use, and the first toilet had none! Phew – glad I’d read that! The second toilet had paper, and also had urine and faeces all around the area on which you stand. I toughened up and did what I needed to do quite successfully! Except, as I stood up the plastic poncho fell out of my pocket and onto the floor, resting on top of the human waste. Bummer! I was going to get wet as the rain was starting.

At 32km in Kobe I was wrecked. Stomach cramps. Walking. At 32km at Fukuchiyama I was feeling pretty good. I’d had the time out with the medic and then with the toilet adventure, so I threw caution to the wind and at the next aid station picked up an hot drink. It tasted pretty good although I have no idea what it was. Nonetheless the next 2km were two of the best I ran in the whole event. I zoomed along, passing maybe 800 people! Who knows what that little cup of brown liquid actually held, but it was rocket fuel for me.

And the zooming didn’t really wear off. Those next 10km flew by. I passed so many people. It was crazy. When I looked back at the results, 35-40km were as fast as 0-5km and 5-10km.

About 3km to go a man ran up behind me and then overtook. I must have been feeling good as I decided to tail him to the finish. I knew we had the final kilometre back up the hill, but for the next 2km I tried to stay right on his heels. We hit the hill and everyone started to fade. I was determined to run that hill and about halfway up I overtook the man I’d been tailing. But really, who finishes a marathon on a hill like that? Nuts!

I ran over the finish, calling out to Craig who had been there waiting for me. There was no medal for this event, but instead a shirt and a certificate they printed on the spot. I found Craig and we went back inside the stadium where I found the same toilets again in order to get changed. I popped into the first one available – squat toilet! I came to see design issues with squat toilets – sure, there’d been a lot of people using the facilities in the day; maybe the cleaning staff were a bit light on; but really, there seems to be urine everywhere in those cubicles and getting changed in one required meticulous care, especially when it came to shoes and socks.

We grabbed some more food in the quadrangle, and headed back to the buses. It was still freezing – about three degrees, with rain. Craig was chilled through from sitting and standing in the weather all day. The Japanese out did themselves again with post race food, facilities and people management. We were quickly on a bus and back to the train station. Downside of the two hour trip back to Kyoto was we could not get a seat on the train and stood up for perhaps 90 minutes of this trip. It wasn’t too bad as it forced me to do some stretches and in truth these were probably a good idea!

After the disaster that was Kobe and then finishing Fukuchiyama with a smile, Craig said to me “how do you think you’ll go at Mt Fuji?” to which I responded “I’ll be fine”. Even though I’d done 112km that week in Chile and Antarctica, I’d had some very significant doubts about Japan. It was a massive relief to have done Fukuchiyama well under the six hour cut off, and a real boost to confidence that I could do it without being wrecked. My knee was all good. Bring on Fujisan!

Fukuchiyama Marathon was number 21.

 

I count myself very lucky to have run Kobe, for a few reasons. Perhaps the major reason is that when I was searching for three marathons to run in one week in different prefectures of Japan, the ballot entry for Kobe was already closed. I contacted the organisers and asked whether I could be on a wait list and they very generously gave me an entry! I was so thrilled.

I’d been working on the issues I’d had with blisters and my right knee since Ross in September, and with some professional advice about taping my knee, I’d decided to give Kobe a go. I knew with a 7hr 30min cutoff I could walk most of it if needed.

Craig and I flew overnight Sydney to Tokyo, and then onto Osaka, landing mid morning the day prior to the marathon. We bussed it to Kobe and found our way to bib pickup, at the finish line of the event. Some instructions were lost in translation and I had no number card, so had to pay about $2.50 for a new one, but no matter. The expo was fabulous and we bought Craig a cap because the forecast was for a high of 21 degrees Celsius, unseasonably warm for late Autumn.

Race morning was fine and sunny, and with a 9am start not far from our hotel, we had breakfast in the club lounge and wandered down. The organisation was phenomenal. Kobe marathon is a big marathon of 20000 runners and about 500000 spectators. I left Craig at a barricade and walked on about three blocks to my gate. I figure there were about 1500 runners in each gate and in mine I saw only one other Caucasian runner. He had in ear buds and looked focussed and not at all chatty, so I stood by myself and soaked it all in.

At bib pickup we had been given bright yellow gloves to wear at the start. There was a lengthy introduction in Japanese followed by a song, and then everyone waved their hands in the air. Such fun even though I didn’t really know what was going on! There was a countdown and then the start – we were off! Or so I thought. It was about 20 minutes later that my group even started to move!

I knew Craig was on the first corner and called to him as I ran past. I’d worn my Marathon Maniacs shirt which is florescent yellow and ordinarily stands out, except the Kobe event shirt was similarly yellow and clearly lots of Japanese don’t bother with the belief that you finish a marathon before you don the shirt.

In the first kilometre or so a man ran up next to me, whipped out his phone and got a selfie with me. I obligingly smiled, and on looking at him more closely realised he was another Marathon Maniac! It was too busy to stop and chat so I kept going, but found later via another Maniac his name is Mike and he lives in Hong Kong. Mike put these photos on the Facebook page of MM and Dan whom I met in Uluru also recognised me.

It’s hard to describe the atmosphere and crowd at this event. Thousands of people lined the streets for almost the entire 42km, and where no crowd was allowed, there were volunteers whose only job was to cheer. There must have been more than a thousand volunteers, all dressed in matching coats and caps.  There were bands, drummers, singers, dancers, and children’s groups performing.

Aid stations were incredible with water and electrolyte drink, as well as food. The electrolyte drink was quite strongly flavoured. I’d grabbed it by mistake initially, but given it was quite hot early on (maybe 18 degrees at the start) I thought it wouldn’t go astray. It was called VAAM.

The crowd of runners was just enormous and didn’t let up for the whole distance. There was never clear space for more than a metre or so in front and I think I ran an additional 500 metres weaving.

Around 17km another man ran up to me. He was a Canadian who has run in different countries and it was nice to talk with someone for a few kilometres. I lost him around 25km when I stopped to use the toilet. I’d noticed I wasn’t feeling great and was experiencing some nasty stomach cramps. I was forced into a walk and felt so off that at one stage I sat down on the median strip. I was pretty devastated when each time I tried to run the cramps returned.

It was a bit of a slog from there. I never thought 12km could drag so badly. I’d been looking forward to running over the red bridge toward the finish and it was still quite a thrill. I managed a really slow jog over the last 3km and ran down the finishing straight so thankful to have made it. Slowest solo marathon ever. Despite this I was really happy to have reached the milestone of 20 marathons.

I researched VAAM a couple of days later. It’s some sort of hornet spit meant to help people burn fat. Enough said. It didn’t agree with me! Not the first time an electrolyte drink has caused me issues. I should have been more careful!

Kobe Marathon was number 20.