2:25. That's was my finishing time of the half marathon. But in the end, it's just a number... the real fun was in the adventure. The getting to the finish line, (well... the imaginary finish line in my mind) the view of the sights of Tokyo running with 30,000 people, the taiko drummers and cheerleaders along the way, the poncho-wearing, rainy-weather run, the burn in my legs and the pumping in my heart. Maybe it doesn't sound too fun to you, but it was in fact one of my greatest memories of Tokyo to date.
Let me walk you through it...
The night before my race. I pack my back and get my rain gear ready for the wet forecast. I buy a hat and a raincoat just in case tomorrow it pours like it says it's gonna. I have never run in cold rain... but I paid for this race and gosh darn it I'm not quitting now. I drink a big glass of water before crawling into bed. I try and sleep but I can't... not a wink. Tossing and turning, more tossing and turning. I am so nervous I can't quiet my mind. I wonder if I ate a big enough dinner. I wonder if I ate too big a dinner. Finally I fall asleep. I wake up some hours later and jump out of bed, nervous I have overslept. Turns out it's 5 am. Back to bad for another 1 and half. Finally 6:30 rolls around, I wake up, get my bag, drink more water and make sure I have my gear. On the train ride I eat a protein bar, I've got 2 hours and counting before the race starts. I'm nervous so I turn on the headphones to calm my nerves. I spot a few more runners around me on the train. They look fit. I wonder if I'm as fit as them. I decide I'm not. haha. But, I will finish. And it ain't about them. It's about me and what I want to accomplish only for me.
I finally arrive at the race sight and see racers lining the train station walkway outside, changing into running shoes and strapping on the ponchos. I set down my bag and start getting changed, lacing up the shoes, putting my new hat on. Oh crap! I don't have my jacket! Oh crap! What am I gonna do?!? I'm gonna freeze. I'm gonna die! I figure it must have fallen out of my bag at my house that morning when I was double checking everything. I'm pissed off at myself and even more nervous now... before I thought I might die of exhaustion in the race. Now I'm wondering if it won't be hypothermia that's gets me first.
I move towards the starting line, stopping at a conbini first to buy a poncho, but they're sold out. (surprise, surprise) Shoganai. It can't be helped. Eventually I drop off my bag at the trucks that will take everything to the finish line. I manage to find a poncho from one of the sponsor give away vans and am stoked I'll have a little more shelter from the rain. I make my way to the starting line where I will spend the next 45 minutes waiting with thousands before the race. I'm wet. I'm cold. I can't move because there's no where to move to. I just stand, bobbing from side to side trying to get the feeling back in my toes.
Finally after what seems like an eternity, the race starts. The first runners cross the start line at 9:10 and 25 minutes later I'm crossing too...aaaaaahhhhh, my cold body begins to warm up. The crowds cheer, I wave at the mayor who is cheering for the runners, and my spirits are lifting. The first 2 kilometers are a slow, slow warmup. It's wet and slick and my muscles are cold... just take it nice and slow, Christina. 21 kilometers is a long way and there ain't no rush.
After the first kilometers I am feeling good. My body is warming, I am setting my regular pace, and I'm LOVING the energy of the people on the sidelines yelling, "Ganbare!" to cheer us on. I'm amazed people are out there in freezing weather, holding tightly to bright colored umbrellas and cheering for me. I know, they're cheering for everyone, but as far as I'm concerned, they're there just for me. Man it feels good. Yeah, I'm running a marathon!(okay... half marathon!) As we run along, I get a beautiful view of Tokyo... no cars, just runners. Streets blocked of, roads never taken, buildings unseen, neighborhoods yet unexplored.
I run along, the kilometers rolling by, I run past some runners and other runners pass me. I don't really mind, I just keep putting one foot in front of the other. We pass Sofia Univerisity around km 7 and a group of unoversity cheerleaders and a brass band play and cheer for us. Japanese girls with pom poms make me laugh out loud. I keep going and soon I hit a taiko drum group also playing. This really is Japan. And I'm running in the first Tokyo Marathon ever. What a feeling.
Heading to the halfway point of the race, 10 km, I start feeling like I gotta find a bathroom. I look, but I'm not finding one on street level... I keep running and I after I pass the 12km mark I can't wait any longer. I am more than halfway now and figure I can stop for 5 minutes to pee. I run into a train station, head down two flights of stairs and look for a bathroom... but there isn't one! What the?! What kind of train station has no bathroom?! So, I head back out and start running again, jumping in with the flow of the race. Except for one thing. I look around and notice there aren't any women around me now. There are only men and they are running pretty darn fast compared my slow lil legs. I start thinking... wait... did I come out the same exit of the train station? I think I am running the wrong direction!! I keep going and the next sign I notice says km 19. Yup. I skipped a whole 7km of the race. Oh well, I decide... I'll just have to run to the 28km mark instead of 21. And now EVERY runner is passing me by. I'm not at the front of the race with the leaders by any means, but I've jumped ahead quite a bit. I spend the next 30 minutes getting passed by everyone, but I don't mind- I want to get with my people at the back of the race. That's more my stle, ya know.
The next leg of the race proves to be the best part. From 21-28 we run through Ginza, the most expensive neighborhood in Tokyo, which is beautiful in and of itself, but running by crowds of people cheering is exhilerating. I pass a Louis Vuitton and an Apple Store and bright flashing lights and know I'm in Tokyo again. The streetsides are full, my legs are doing good and the feeling of having to pee is slightly diminishing. It's going good. I check my watch and see I'm running a slow but happy 10 min 30 sec. mile. Good enough for me, that's for sure.
The Final Leg: The 28 km mark is coming up and the best view of the race is sure to be up soon. I am heading down a main street in Tokyo leading to Asakusa, Tokyo's most famous and beautiful temple. Man, there it is... it's stunning bright red, people everywhere, cheering like crazy, offering food and drinks as we run by. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna finish. Just a little bit more. As I pass the temple I know I only have 20 more minutes to go and while my right hip is starting to ache I keep running, just looking for that 28km endline.
Finally... it's in sight. I sprint the last hundred years, literally raise my hands in elation (no joke) and cross that imaginary finish line tape. The guys holding the flag encourage me in Japanese...."Ganbare! Keep going! Just a little bit more!" Nope, I reply... this was my goal. I'm here. I'm done. I'm happy. I walk for a little bit more to cool down, stretch out, and go to the nearby medical center where I am given blankets, warm water and bananas and shuttled to the finish line to pick up my things. My body is getting cold as it is still chilly and windy... but man I'm happy. I spot Bryn and Cassie right away after getting changed and we enjoy a delicious curry lunch and a walk around Odaiba.
I am exhausted. I'm borderline limping from the pain in my right hip. But my body feels strong. I finished something I didn't think could be done. I had never run more than 6 miles in my life... and here I am running double. I never stopped once during the race. I'm happy. It was a slow and calm but nonetheless energizing run... and I'm part of history marking the first ever Tokyo Marathon. I will never, ever forget this race. I will never forget my years living in Japan and the new experiences that have highlighted my time here.
Yeah, you could say it was a good day.
