Sunday, October 7th, 2007

Never Surrender, by Corey Hart, is on my iPod shuffle five times. That way, when the machine mixes up the songs, there is a good chance that with fair regularity I will be listening to my 80’s anthem of perseverance. After all, it fits brilliantly. It is what the entire insane endeavour is about when you lace up your shoes, pin that number on your tech-gear, and tell yourself that you are about to run 26.2 miles. One foot in front of the next, find the strength somewhere within, and never surrender.

There is, however, a big difference between never surrender and never stop. To me, surrender is admitting defeat whereas stopping is sometimes about being smart.

As an experiential learner, I now know the difference.

When I awoke at 5AM the morning of the Chicago marathon, it was already 71 degrees (22C). The air was hazy with humidity and it took a little extra effort to breathe deep. By late morning the thermometer would read 93 (33C), the sun would be baking the streets of Chicago, and the humidity would not have relented at all. Where this was headed should have been painfully clear.

There are those who, in the convenience of retrospect and in the safety of their newspaper editorials, insist that none of us runners should have been out there in the first place given the conditions of Sunday the 7th of October. Yeah, they are probably right. They don’t know marathoners very well.

I was standing at the start line (well, I was standing at what would amount to about 22 minutes from the start line after the gun went off) already sweating having not yet run a single step. I was with some fellow JeansMarines and we were all feeling excited, nervous, and confident that we were going to be stepping across that final timing mat before the day was done. There were a couple of first timers and I think I was as excited for them as they were for themselves. Who doesn’t recall the first marathon? It was, for me, one of the sweetest experiences of life so far. So I think I was talking their ears off with all kinds of last minute advice - it may or may not have been worth anything in the end. I finished my litre of gatorade and dropped the empty bottle in the nearest recycling bin.

Before the race even began, I had made a critical error. I had decided to leave my water-belt at home and just run with the water stations. There are many different ways of training for and running a race and stopping to drink at and walk through the water stations is a pretty common one. Thankfully this did not turn out to be a fatal error, just a dangerous one.

The gun went off at 8AM and at about 8:22AM I was across the start line and on my way. By mile 1 I was soaking wet. My shirt and shorts were clinging to me like polyester cellophane. Streams of water were trickling down my neck and back, all exposed skin was slick and shiny with the humidity of the air around me. I recall feeling so self-conscious that I was this sweaty so soon in the race.

I hit the first water station at about 1.5 miles and grabbed a cup of gatorade and a cup of water. I took the two half full cups and mixed them together - the water station gatorade is always too strong and sweet for me. Instead of the usual two or three sips I would take before running on, I walked for a while and finished most of the liquid in the paper cup. I promise you that I had already lost more than three times that much. I also polished off a package of ‘sports beans’ - pumped up jelly beans with added salt and potassium.

Slow but sure was the strategy for this race. I had a talk with myself before I had even crossed the start line and my brain and feet were both briefed on the fact that there was no attention to be paid to the clock today. I always say that my goal for every race is simply to finish. I always have a secret time in mind. This time my goal was no secret. It was a goal I think I shared with a lot of people out on that course and it was honestly just to cross that final line and manage to flash a smile for the cameras.

I hit the next water station at about 3 miles and there was, all at once, the most eerie silence all around me. All of us runners had just realized that where the water station was supposed to be was nothing more than a street carpeted with crushed paper cups and sidewalks lined with water station tables that had been collapsed and hauled to the side. There was no water for us.

My head swam and my heart beat a bit faster when I thought of what this meant for the remainder of the race. I had to assume there was no water at the rest of the water stations. There was no way to make it through the race without water. I told myself to calm down, that the race organizers would scramble to fix the problem as soon as they saw what was happening. I stopped to walk for a minute or two because I started to feel a bit woozy and my vision was blurring a bit around the edges. I was fine a moment or two later - I had got myself so worked up over the lack of water that I think my blood pressure spiked just a little.

Honestly, the space between mile 3 and mile 13 is a bit of a watercolour painting. I’m sure it all comes together to make some sort of image, but the stream of sweat blurred all of the colours into a big mess. Monet would be proud. I do remember some things with overwhelming clarity.

I remember that gatorade bottle I put in the recycling bin at the start line. Every water fountain I ran past would have been a saviour had I only kept that bottle with me.

I remember every single Chicagoan that came out to the side of the road with their garden hoses and sprinklers. They came out with plastic pitchers of water and styrofoam cups. They stood on the sidewalks and soaked us as we ran past. As the miles added up and the news of the empty water stations spread throughout the course, the city rallied for us. The citizens, businesses, and organizations of Chicago came out in droves with cases upon cases of water and cooler after cooler of ice. They did everything they could to keep us cool as the people of Tokyo had done to try and keep us warm.

Why does everything I do have to involve such extremes?

I remember also the images of people falling down on the course. From about mile 7 onwards there were people down on the side of the road left and right and the aide stations were overflowing with people needing assistance. There were people lying on stretchers who where covered in as many bags of ice as could be mustered. There were people who stumbled and fell between aide stations and spectators who were running ahead to gather medical staff to help those who had fallen. At mile 10 I was suffering so badly from the heat that I decided to stop and walk the next mile. It was then that I really had a moment to stop and look around and see what was happening to my fellow runners out on the course. To put it plainly, it was really scary to watch. It was also the first moment I thought that there was a chance I would not be finishing this race.

That is where the crucial difference between surrendering and stopping comes into play.

I think it was just before mile 17 that police began to line the streets and it was announced that the marathon had been cancelled.

I didn’t understand. Race marshals were telling us that the marathon had been cancelled and that we were to stop running and start walking. I still didn’t understand. I looked around and it was clear by the faces of my fellow runners that they understood no more than I did.

Little by little the chatter started. Cell phones were pulled out all around me and calls were being made and received by people with weary and strained voices. It took no more than a few minutes before we all got the message. The marathon was, really truly, over. We were to stop running, start walking, and were to be diverted back to Grant park and the finish area.

I was so disappointed. I had come so far and it had been such a struggle. It had been the longest, most difficult 17 miles I had ever run and now I was being told to quit. Disappointment turned, in a matter of seconds, into defiance. No freaking way they were going to tell me to quit after all the effort I had just put in. Defiance turned to the sweetest sense of relief.

Sure I had come 17 miles, but that meant that there was still 9.2 miles left (almost 15K) left to run. Sure I was doing alright considering the circumstances, but the time for being smart was upon us and I am thankful that someone made the call. If ever there was a race that I should not have finished, it was this one. Thing is, I probably would have tried and who knows what tribulations were waiting between mile 17 and 26.2?

So, we were diverted up to and along Jackson St. and I was greeted there by one of the most fantastic pictures I have ever seen. The long skyscraper lined street stretched out in front of me as far as my eye would go and as far as my eye could see all the fire hydrants were open in full force sending giant arcs of water up into the sky and across the street.

Runners were jumping through the plumes of water like five year old children and great sighs of comfort soared through the air as cold water hit the hot skin of people all around me.

I was so exhausted, so thirsty, so drained that I walked along Jackson letting the fire hydrants spray the sweat and tears from my sunburned face.

The finish area was chaos. Runners down, on stretchers, in wheelchairs, again packed in ice. Family and friends looking for their athletes. Athletes looking for water. Maybe a banana or a bagel. Mostly just water.

I was in a group that was herded down toward the finish line. We were coming at it from the wrong way since we had been brought in from behind. I wasn’t sure what the point was. I realized then that someone had decided to let us cross the final timing mat so that it would be recorded that, even though we had not been allowed to run the entire 26.2 miles, we finished what we could. It also means that my timing chip shows that I had a finishing time of 4:20.

I won’t forget it. Not any time soon. Probably not ever.

The Marathon That Sort of Wasn't

The marathon was cancelled. Not cut short. Not diverted. Cancelled.

Better than half way through we were told to quit running (Really! Tell people who have come this far to quit running!) and walk the rest. The marathon has been cancelled because of extreme heat. Some very dedicated Chicagoan police officers made certain we stopped running / started walking. They were there for us as irritated as we were.

Cancel a marathon?

It was a good call.

I saw half a dozen people stagger to the side of the road. A dozen more on the grass. The aide tents were overwhelmed - runners were doubled over and with ice packs.

Down side: It was 30 degrees, humidity was high, and there wasn't enough water out there for us all.

Up side: There is no chance I will ever run up Jackson Ave (Blvd?) with each and every fire hydrant opened up. Huge arches of water spraying across a thousand people.

I have stories from every race I have done - I have no stories that compare to today.

To all of those who wished me well, I Love You. I can't thank you enough!

Mikschweaty

Yay! Pototo Salad for Breakfast!

It has been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. I'm sure they are right to a certain extent but I am sure there are even fewer in the marathon sorts.

I say this because it is 5:13AM on Sunday the 7th of October, 2007 and ever since I got up about 13 minutes ago, all I have been able to say is, "OH! MY! GOD!"

Mark has just asked me if it is possible that I would like to take up a different sport? Like chess.

Off to breakfast of more yummy carbs - add these to the pasta salad and garlic toast for lunch yesterday and the two plates of pasta (with a fantastic pesto) for dinner last night and I am sure the marketing people over at Atkins with that running shoes had never been invented. They just lost 45,000 customers! Ha!

More to follow after I cross the FINISH line!

Love you all,
Miktastic

Hot Child in The Windy City

Thank you so much to global warming. No really, just fantastic. Crap.

This Sunday, October the 7th is forecast to be 30 degrees (C) in Chicago with a nice dollop of humidity just to top things off. These are not, for those of us running 42.195K, ideal conditions.

It makes it much more difficult to stay hydrated and, in my case, a challenge to stay salty. Lemme 'splain. There are those of you that say things like, "Oh my god it is so hot today. I am sweating like a pig." You say things like this and have nothing more than a few drops of sweat perched on the end of your nose. At most, a mist of perspiration covers your brow. There are those (me) who say things like, "Oh my god it is so hot today. I am sweating like a pig." Rivulets of water are running off my brow, down my neck, my hair is wet, my t-shirt is soaked through in the back, armpit, and breast areas. We all have our curses to bear, this is mine.

Not for nothing have a earned the name "Sweaty Monkey Ass" among my running buddies. Don't get me wrong, there are advantages to sweating this much. I have fantastically clear skin and even during the entire 5 hours of the marathon, I never have to stop and pee even once.

Anyhow, back to the salt thing. It isn't just water my body is expunging, but salt as well. Much to the delight of our cats and dogs, I come home covered in salt after nearly every run. As with everything else during a run, the salt you lose you must replace. It just gets difficult at some point when you are losing it faster then you can put it back in. Drink too much water, lose too much salt and you come across a lovely condition known as hyponatremia.

Hyponatremia is a dangerous condition of imbalance. In the early stages the symptoms include apathy, confusion, nausea, and fatigue. In advanced stages, it can lead to death.

On a positive note, we now have a scientific name for the Bush administration.

4 More Sleeps Until the Silver Bean

(Cue Dramatic Music!) (Something like - Dunh Dunh Duuuuuhhh.)

Only four nights and three and a half days until we are sky bound for Chicago. Yes, we! Markus did decide to join me for this round of out-of-town great marathon adventures. Mostly because I hounded him with Puss-in-Boots pathetic weepy looks for about a week or so. I've never been above emotional manipulation so don't expect me to begin fighting fair now!

I'm nervous. Very nervous about the 42.195K endeavour. I've been having stress dreams in which I am, oddly enough, running marathons. They oscillate between triumph and heartbreak. Last night I didn't even finish the marathon since I had this inexplicable urge to stop and get cookies from every Subway along the route (the edible sort of Subway that is.) Who knew that there could possibly be so many damn Subway shops in Chicago. If I recall the details rightly, there was one about every block and a half. This amounts to a hell of a lot of cookies and a very sad race time.

The night before last was fantastic. Although most of the marathon consisted of running through mazes of cubicles in office towers, I managed to finish in just less than 3 hours 30 minutes. Who knew the stench of photocopy toner could knock about an hour and a half off my best time?

Morpheus sure is having fun with me lately.

The White Windy City

Three and a half weeks until I'm off to Chicago for what will be my third marathon. Markus may or may not be joining me this time as he is growing weary of standing around for hours trying to get a fleeting glimps of me as I zip past the crowd with Roadrunner-like agility. Actually, much more like Wylie Coyote in real life.

Marathoning is turing out to be a fantastic way to see parts of the world I have not yet had a chance to visit. Of course, I could just go to Chicago without putting myself through the punishing effort of running 42.195K. What fun would that be?

Plus, all of this running is giving me legs so muscular that I could crush a Chrysler. It would be just dandy if the rest of my physique would follow suit without any effort on my part.

So Kiss Me and Smile For Me

Final night in Tokyo. Back in Kabukicho nestled right in the heart of Shinjuku. Ah Kabukicho - one day I will tell you how I was offered a sex massage in a room with three different shower heads (stop me if you've heard this one before) at 6AM on the rainy morning of the Tokyo marathon. Soaking wet hats off to those who brave the morning air to divest me of my money in a house of ill repute. I had to save all my energy for the marathon so in the end, I declined.

My old hometown of Sapporo was so much fun. We hot-springed, ate all manner of meat on sticks (Kushidori!), Karaoke-d (and Markus said never!), grilled lamb in the Sapporo beer factory on a dome shaped grill shaped like Gehngis Khan's hat. Memories of this place where I lived for three years grew more full all the time we were there. Standing in front of the burgundy and concrete front of Pearl Heights, I felt giddy. Friends that are too far away were not. All of the fun and significant places came back bit by bit. I forgot how friendly the folks of Sapporo are. They look you right in the eye and give you a smile. In Toronto, that is an outright violation of personal space!

The train ride from Sapporo back to Tokyo was hell on bullet train tracks. We booked too late and rode most of the way in a cramped, over heated compartment with sick children and sweet little old men who chew their rice balls with mouths way wide open. Add slurping of hot tea and coffee, 35 C, and you have a fun picture. The last leg of the trip - 1.5 hours of the Shinkansen - was in the smoking compartment on the train. All other seats had been reserved. Two Hundred People. In One Train Car. All Smoking. Yet Markus and I still walk among the living. Ah, it wasn't as bad as all of that. Although the memory of that smoking car will say in my hair for a long time.

On our first night in Tokyo, here in Shinjuku, we tripped over a Sukiyaki place. There were one hundred and then a thousand more restaurants right outside our hotel door. We stopped in here on our first night in town because it was one of the only signs on the street that my mind flashed back to. Sukiyaki. Don't know what it actually means, but it spells delicious (forgive me for that one!) So tonight we tripped over it again on purpose. It was a really perfect way to tie up what has been a perfect trip. It was such a chance encounter and that made it all the more part of the adventure.

As for three entire weeks with Markus, only he can tell you what a fantastic tour-guide and a huge pain in the ass I have been.

:)

I and we have far more stories from this trip than can ever be told here, but have a look back now and then since I still would like to tell some of them.

Wish us a safe trip home. See you soon.

mikael-

Tokyo Park

We've had a relatively "quiet" day here in Tokyo - here's a few pix from one of the parks we were strolling through. This will likely be the post from Tokyo as we're on the plane home tomorrow at 5pm. We arrive in Toronto the same day, but 4 hours earlier. Should be fun jet lag.

Back in Tokyo

We're back in Tokyo for a day, and then heading back to Toronto. We're due back sometime Tuesday afternoon.

I've uploaded some pix of the bullet trains of Japan (mainly for my Dad.)

The transit system here is incredible. Today we were on a few different high speed trains - one of them was a connection with 8 minutes to spare. In typical Japanese style, the trains arrived exactly as expected. I've never seen anything this efficient before. Incredible!

-Mark

Hunting the Past Presently

Not a chance that I am posting pictures from Sapporo. It was the scene and the city of my life about eight years ago. I have been revisiting the behaviours of those days (and dragging Mark into the sinkhole of days gone by).

It has been sugoi subarashii!

Yakkitori, Jingisukan, Tabe-to-Nomi-Houdai. A night of Potato Circus with Noriko and Yasuko ending in two hours of 80's laden karaoke. All you can eat and drink and two hours of a microphone for 4000 yen each ($40 each) leads you down a path you probably didn't expect the evening to explore.

I can't tell you how much I enjoy the right of return.

Yesterday we went to an Onsen (Hot spring). Volcanic activity bubbles to the suface here in Hokkaido - and not just in the social lives of the Japanese and their foreign friends.

In a Japanese Onsen you split into boy's and girl's baths. Enter the change room. where you shed it all and leave your clothes and your modesty in a plastic basket.

Enter the common bath where along the wall are about a dozen spouts. Sit down on a wooden stool just big enough for your generous North American botton and scrub until your skin is pink and you are Mista Spakeruu.

Choose your own adventure. a) Go out the door to your right. b) Slip into the steaming bath in front of you.

b) Good jeebus are you insane?

a) This door leads the Rotenburo - the open air hot sping bath. You soak there for an hour and feel like a nicely manipulated bit of play-do'h.

Ma-ku, Noriko, and The Boy in Red rested well that night.

Many more tales unfit for television await.

-mikael

The Boy in Red - Action Shots

Here are a few action shots by the folks photographing the Tokyo Marathon itself.

Click For 'The Boy In Red'

More communicado from Sapporo after our day of Shinkansen travel tomrrow!

xo,
M1 & M2

The deer of Nara

Seriously people, there are deer walking the streets of this lovely town. When they're not walking, they're biting your ass wanting you to feed them. Totally incredible time here in Kyoto.

Check out the latest rounds of pix.

I have some very funny movies of Mikael and I being chased around by these beasts. We'll try and post them tomorrow before we head off on a full days journey to Sapporo.

M & M

Nihon Shu(s) Off in the Ancient Capital

Hey! We are having an absolutely cultural, culturally sensitive, and
sake induced holiday here in Kyoto (One of the ancient capitals of
Japan. Shoguns and Emperors kept moving around and moving the
capital with them in an effort to confuse foreigners 1000 years later)

Here are a few pictures.

Life is good in our Ryokan (Japanese Inn). We have our own garden,
paper screen doors we keep walking through, and the most amazing and
sincere lady who is our (for lack of a better term) room attendant.
She brings us mugi-cha and foods, puts out our futons in the evening,
makes sure our yukatas are fresh, and books us private time in the O-
Furo. Everything my own mother failed to do!

Hope all is well across the Pacific! We'll be in touch soon.

Maikeru to Maaku

Marathon part 2 (long post for a long run)

Alright, now that I have had a chance to digest the run and once again attempt walking down a staircase face pointing forward, I can tell you a bit more about the day that made me the man I am today.

I crossed the start line about 16 minutes after the gun went off (I think) and the day began in earnest. First thing, the route took us through Shinjuku - by now you have seen about 1000 pictures of Shinjuku posted by the geek.

The throng of 30,000 runners starting en masse took a good 10K to thin out to any sort of comfortable spacing. No problem though, I kept a steady pace behind a very attractive behind and waited for an opportunity to surge ahead.

The rain had let up just a bit before the starting gun but at the 8K-ish mark decided that no more miss nice hello-kitty and pelted us anew. The roads, manholes, sewer grates, paper cups, plastic bags became hazzards far greater than running out of glycogen or losing too much salt. I couldn't feel my fingers and couldn't use them to tie the shoelaces that the water repeatedly worked apart.

My calf and quad muscles were ice cold and started to spasm at around 16K. I stopped to stretch and massage a bit of heat back into them and a 5 foot tall Japanese woman came running up to me, said something I couldn't quite get, and started rubbing down my legs with the strongest most glorious smelling mentholated cream I have ever known. Under different circumstances this might have been strange. There and then it was a kindness I could not have expected. I picked up the race from there with tears in my eyes. So strange the emotional effect that the kindness of strangers has.

From 16K to 27K, the race was mine! I felt like I had wings on my feet. Running down the streets of Ginza the crowds were cheering and chanting. Criest of 'Ganbare' (Do your best/You can do it/Good luck for you) and 'Faito' (Fight!) were bouncing off the great big buildings of Tokyo's most posh shopping district. It struck me then that the entire core of Tokyo (Tokyo for goodness sake!) had been shut down and brought to a halt for us. 30,000 of us got to run 42.195K down the middle of streets that never ever ever stopped or emptied out for anyone. It was bizzare and wonderful.

The rain stopped, started, spit, and streamed at all kind of points all along the 42K, 5 hour trek. Really, at about half-way, it was time to stop focusing on and cursing the weather and start pointing my thoughts to the amazing experience that was unfolding with each foot-fall.

Running past 'music stations' that were filled with Taiko drummers, brass-bands, Shamisen and Koto music, Bagpipes (all of these in separate places mind you) was so much fun! Running past the few foreigners that lined the route who gave their fellow Gai-Jin an extra hearty cheer was a great boost. Running past 90 year old men and women standing out in the pouring rain clapping and cheering and grinning from ear to ear as we all went past was just plain beautiful. Tokyo had not only stopped for us but had stopped what they were doing and come out for us.

From 35K on things got really really really truly terribly tough. I did, I must admit, have a few thoughts of surrender. Not one of those thoughts were as stubborn as the genetic code my father gave me for my 0th birthday (one of the few situations where this quality has served me well).

Between 38K and 40K I experienced the strangest thing. Euphoria. Complete euphoria although my legs could barely move and my feet were begging me to stop. Is this the storied 'runner's high' I have heard about. I was running along for two full kilometres with a grin on my face. I think at one point I actually imagined taking all my clothes off and running through a field of sunflowers. Thankfully, there were no sunflowers to be found.

Of course, crossing the line at 42.195K was glorious. To herald the glory of the moment, nearly as soon as my size 12 shoes crossed the finish, Mother Nature parted the clouds, stopped the rain, and spread bright sunshine across a blue blue sky. Bitch.

-mikael

This, that, and the other thing!

Lots of stuff to cover.

1. Still haven't had Sushi.

2. Other stuff to follow:

Today was spent wandering around the city, bookstores, museums, train stations, pubs, what have you...

Some shots are posted over here.

Also took a small video, of special interest to Miriam, which is available here.

We are off to Kyoto tomorrow morning. We have no idea what Internet access will be like as were staying at a very traditional Japanese Inn (a "Ryokon".) We're taking the ultra fast bullet train so you can assume there will be loads of photos and movies!

Hope all is well.

Warm thoughts from Tokyo!

-Mark and Mikael

The Sad & Pathetic Teddy Bears of Shinjuku

We came across two teddy bears in Shinjuku that needed their own video blog post. Mikael did the narration. I wept, and held the camera.

Click here to see the teddy bears of Shinjuku.

Videos Fixed

The last 2 videos in the previous post didn't work properly. I've fixed the links and everything is a-okay now.

-Mark

Tokyo Movies & Temple Tour

We wandered through Tokyo more today, and visited a Temple. Pix can be found here.

I've been taking a few movies on my camera whilst touring Tokyo. Here's a few (they're all short - under 30 seconds.)

NOTE - you'll have to hit your browser "Back" button to come back to this blog entry each time you view a video.

One of the first thing I noticed in Tokyo was the way the Japanese operate within their subway/train stations. When you get to the platform, you join a single file line (for each side of the door). The train always stops exactly at the same spot. You walk to the train once it is almost stopped, and wait for people to exit between the two lines before entering a car.

Subway Platform

Standing on a rail platform makes you feel like you're inside a Nintendo game. There's always this computer generated game music playing, and I attempted to capture it on video. As soon as I started recording, the Nintendo sounds stopped.

Subway Platform 2

Finally captured some of the Nintendo music.

Jack Skeleton

Shinjuku is a loud place. Here's video from after 11pm at night (on a weekday!) Place is always packed.

Shinjuku
Shinjuku 2

Throughout the Tokyo Marathon there were bands playing. Here's some marathon coverage:

Band at Shinjuku
Wet Runners
Band 2

Hope you enjoyed...

-Mark

More Marathon than one Mik should attempt!

Holy Buddah! If self-denial and suffering are essential pit-stops on the path to enlightenment, then I have not only acheived, but damn near own nirvana.

42.195 very self-examining kilomtres. An amazing experience.

I could write a 5 hour post about the whole run (which is, not coincidentally, how long it took me to hit the finish). My chp time, fore those of you who wish to know, was 5:02ish. A few minutes behind Washington.

The day began when I stepped out of our hotel at 6AM to wander over to the nearest convienience shop and buy something bread-like. I ended up with something resembling a turnover filled with corn, mayonaise, and sausage bits. Stop wretching, it was really good! On my way back to the hotel, I was stopped by a middle aged man (perhaps of Russian descent) who wanted me to go to his strip club (a much better one by his advertisment since it had showers too!). As tempting as that might have been, there was work to be done. Ah the early morning joys of staying in Tokyo's red-light district (Shinjuku).

Fast forward to about 8:40AM, Noriko and I are at the portapotties near the start line. It is teeming, pouring, and streeming from the heavens. So wet, it cannot get any wetter. There are about 3000 people lined up in front of about 100 portapotties. With all the efficiency you attribute the Japanese, the entire line clears in about 6 minutes. The portapotties are immaculate (even after 3000 people have used them), fully stocked with TP and had mirrors on the walls (??!!). The runners out there will appreciate why I am going on about the damn toilets.

9:05AM we are at the start line huddled in a throng of people in plastic bags holding umbrellas over their heads. 30,000 people pakced together and about 10,000 umbrellas forming a roof above our heads. When the gun went off, we shuffled as one super-organisim toward the start - umbrella roof in tact. As we passed the start line/timing mats there were huge bins on either side for the unmbrellas. In one continuous motion, 10,000 umbrellas went back to umbrella heaven.

And off we were.

more later. mikael....

Wet, and then put away dry

The marathon is over. Mikael and Noriko probably spent over 6 hours today in 5C weather with the rain pouring the entire time. They were both absolutely soaking wet before the race started, and then ran the marathon. Unbelieveable! I ran around town to different vantage spots to take pictures and can't imagine how rough it must've been for the two of them.

I've posted pictures.

-Mark

Tokyo Marathon 2007 Runners Marathon

The marathon is tomorrow. I took some shots of the Runners Expo this afternoon.

Click here.

-Mark

Pix over at Flickr

I've been posting pictures over at Flickr (works better.) The link is:

Click here.

-Mark

Lovely Spring Weather

I hear that it is mighty cold in Toronto.

We were walking around in t-shirts in about 15-16 C weather this afternoon.

/wave and /giggle

Ohaiyogozaimasu!

8AM Standard Tokyo TIme (since I haven't the foggiest bamboo forest what it is really called).

We awoke to the sound of the fishmongers heading to market with their early morning catch, the quick clacking of the Geisha's wooden sandals on the cobblestones below our window, and the warm morning sun glowing softly through the paper of our window screens...

Um...Right. This is Tokyo. What is more, it is Shinjuku!

We actually awoke to the punishing sound of the alarm on Mark's blackberry and the white noise electronic hum of the instant tea dispenser out side the door. Although that is one thing you have to love about Japan, free tea absolutely everywhere you go.

By now, Mark should have posted some pictures on this site somewhere, somehow - if it plugs into the wall or runs on batteries, I don't ask questions - such things are Mark's domain. There should, I've been told, be pictures somewhere here though.

This morning, after finding some breakfast (and praying I can get a decent cup of coffee somewhere since the Japanese have not yet mastered the brutal art of grindning decent beans and pouring hot water over them. It is enough to make me even wish for Tim Hortons coffee which means I MUST be desperate), we are heading to Akihabara. 5 square blocks of electronics stores. I think our entire travel budget has a fairly good chance of being used up in one day. He will be kid in candy store!

Jet lag might hit later on, but both of us feel like shiny neon magic this morning! Have a nice evening.

mikael

We've arrived!

After making it through traffic during Toronto's first major storm, we actually managed to arrive at the airport an hour early.

Air Canada's long-distance haul team was absolutely fabulous. Lots of food, drink, and the plane was only about 1/2 full - easy to find a spot to sleep in.

We're arriving in Tokyo, and we're in our final descent... Mikael is in the bathroom barfing up a lung. The flight attendants had to unlock the bathroom to let him in as the flight was on final approach. He survived, and is doing well now.

Tokyo is... bright, brilliant, and incredibly clean. Here's some shots:

This greeted us at the pickup for luggage. Umm.. okay...

We're off to find the Japan Rail office to convert our voucher into a real, unlimited, 21 day pass.


Awaiting our train to Shinjuku. The airport is and hour and 45 minute ride to central Tokyo (and this is the express non-stop train.) Glad we didn't get a cab. Would've cost more than the flight did.

Our train has arrived. As I said earler, everything is shiny and clean. Quite amazing really. We're in the upgraded "green" car, which is reserved for us foreign-snobs. ;)

This is the panel at the front of the car. We're amost to Shinjuku!
This is immediately ourside our hotel. It's all walking-only streets full of bars, nightclubs and restaurants. Wasn't tough to find a great place to eat dinner.
Sorry about the blur. My bad. Why the guy that shakes takes the pix is a wonder, eh?
More of Shinjuku. Its around 10pm, and the place is packed.
Yet more... who pays the electricity bill?
And more...
Last one before dinner...
And proof that he did survive the flight...

Two More Sleeps

Well, Monday the 12th of February. When my friend Noriko wrote me last year in June and suggested that we come to Japan for the inaugural running of the Tokyo marathon it seemed so distant. Not simply because it is a hell of a long way away, but also because it was so far away.

With all of those many months of hour filled days to plan and scheme, you would have thought that all would be in place and prepared. All we would have to do is wake up on the morning of the 14th, put on our bon voyage best and cross the tarmac. Not quite. Most of today will be an adventure of last-minute proportions. A fruit-filled Danish lost in a maze of downtown buildings trying to get it together. Never mind that I have let both my OHIP card and my Driver's liscence expire. Doesn't matter, I never get to drive anyhow and most of my illnesses are psychosomatic.

No matter. We work best with deadlines and swords hanging over our heads.

I think the biggest task is charging up all of the toys - there aren't, I don't think, enough outlets to simultaneous juice-up all of the technology that is going with us. Although, on the happy side of things, dragging around such a large amount of electronics should give us a certain curbside-cred in the neon soaked streets of Tokyo.

Then, of course, there is the matter of The Marathon. I'm nervous in the way that I get nervous before most races I do. And then some. I am trying to go through every possible scenario of Things That Might Go Wrong. What if I can't find a place to eat pasta the night before? Can one run an entire marathon on a meal of squid, seaweed, and blowfish? What is going to be at the water stations? Green tea? Looking over the heads of the 25,000 people in the race, will I be able to see the finish line in the distance?

I know it is there and I'll let you know when I have crossed it. I look forward to the victory dinner of squid, seaweed, and blowfish. And liquid sunshine. Lots of liquid sunshine.

mikael

We're Off

Two weeks and a little bit until Japan.