Tokyo Marathon

Started off by having a pleasant cappuccino and pastry in Tully’s Shinjuku with Reza. It dawned on us that the establishment didnt actually posess its own washroom, which was kind of the point. The Glastonbury ( Woodstock ) festival-style rows of portaloos near the marathon itself were not appealing. As Reza put it, he always feels someone is going to take it away or tip it up while he is inside it. Found some conveniences in an office building, fortunately. Less fortunately, they were of the exact hole-in-the-ground variety we had been trying to avoid. Reza surfaced with a haunted expression.

So it was downhill after Tully’s. Raining hard. I had the immense foresight to purchase a plastic mac from 7-Eleven this morning, in this season’s above-the-knee length with applied patch pockets. Didn’t make up for forgetting to buy the bread for breakfast though. Reza made do with the supplied Tokyo Metro bag, mixing it up with a woollen Benny hat creating a fetching “playing card” ensemble. And so we set off. Well we didn’t really, for about 15 minutes, as it took that long for the line to reach the start. In the meantime, met some entertaining folk ( pictures to follow, Alex and co .. ) and joked around.

Quickly realised any attempt to forge onwards at above obaasan pace was doomed to catastrophic pain induced failure. Reza, whom had wisely switched to the 10Km on account of the atrocious weather and even worse, forgetting his iPod, kindly ran with me for those first 10Km. I am sure we made an impressive pair. Indeed, many felt the need to look twice. Perhaps to notice actual lateral movement.

10Km arrived and Reza decided to go for 15, so we continued onward. Saw Ed, who was on his way back from Shinagawa already, and thus miles ahead. Then Joe showed up, amazingly having been behind the dynamic duo due to participating politely in a queue at the pitstops somewhere. Joe was on a tear, now much refreshed and significantly lighter. I didn’t see him again until he was breezing past the 30Km mark.

At that point, I was wheezing past the 20-something mark, having decided to amble onwards taking photos of the kilometre markers as they came up, as a spontaneous study in the beauty of crowds. I’ve already checked the photos. They present a stunning tribute to compositional dullness and tedium. Anyway, it kept me entertained while trying to avoid the rather real possibility of being scooped up by the sad-sack bus, which kept menacing me.

Finished the thing rather more than 6 hours after I set off, which I believe averages out at a light stroll or the athletic equivalent of a gentle round of golf.

Splendid. So, thats it then.