We survived 10K up a mountain!
Words cannot say how happy I am. Oddly enough, after spending the entire time cursing the course for being a terrible, awful, jerk of a mountain, I want to try it again.
Marathons are a special beast. The whole time leading up to the race, during the race, and after the race, there’s a special connection to everyone around you. Mostly the fact that everyone’s freaking insane and is willing to beat their own bodies in order to flop over a finish line and receive a pair of socks and a towel. (Oh my gosh, such a cool towel!) And also because, in Japan, they throw awesome BBQs the night before the race to make sure you’re loading up on all of the fish, squid, rice, lettuce, meat, and sake you need.
So, after we ate too much and danced traditional dances around the fire pits while old ladies played taiko (drums), we got on a large speed boat and headed off to the other island surrounded by the sound of drunk runners trying to count in English. (Wan, tsuu, sree, fow, faibu, shix, seben, ei, nain, ten, ah, Ah, AH, AHHH).
Next morning we took a noticeably quieter boat to the starting point, cured our pre-race jitter-pees, and then we were off.
All things considered, we did about as well as we had hoped since we’d only really trained with one long run before this. And it turns out I was the 8th woman! Whoopcha! Aaron and I got a time of 1 hour and 9 minutes. (If you’re sitting by someone who is actually a runner, please take this time to smack them over the head. Even if they didn’t say it, they were thinking it). Yes, I know it doesn’t seem that great, but we went from sea level straight up to almost 300 meters. And I mean straight up.
Right from the start Aaron and I decided to take it easy. And so we set our goals relatively low: Don’t let the old man in the giraffe suit beat us. Side mission: Don’t pass out or throw up. Proud to say I didn’t do either though I came close! As for ‘Ol Giraffe man, turns out he was doing a half marathon so, yeah, can’t compete with that.