Step Up: Running on Iheya

This past weekend was perhaps one of the best weekends of my time here in Okinawa. A mix of planned events and unexpected opportunities turned the four days into a great time.

On Thursday and Friday, the Okinawa JET Mid-Year Conference took place in Okinawa City's Education Center, just like last year. But this time, the presentations seemed to be much better than last years. I think it was a combination of better presentations (and presenters!) and a year of experience that led to me actually enjoying the time spent away from school.

But it was after the conference that things started to get really interesting. Friday night, I crashed with a friend near Chatan, central Okinawa. I woke up early and took the bike back to Higashi, stopping at the A&W in Nago for a late breakfast, around 10:00.

I checked my phone and saw I had a missed call. It was from Roy, the new ALT on Izena Island, and when I called him back he asked me if I wanted to run the half-marathon on Iheya. What?! A half-marathon? 21.0975 kilometers? 13.1 miles? I had to think about it for a minute. Many thoughts crossed my mind, including the following:

• I can't run 21 km...I haven't run for months!
• I'd have to go home and unpack, then pack, and try and catch the last ferry;
• What time is the race? 5:00? That's not enough time!
• Who else is running?
• Do you guys have room for me to crash there?
• I'm not sure...
  
• But if I don't run, I'll regret it...
• Wait, why spend two days at home alone when I could get out to an island and have a blast; and finally
  
• I can do this! I may not run the whole way, but I will cross that line, and I'll do it under 3 hours.

Whoa, where'd that come from, that inspiration? Besides a desire not to let a single good moment escape me during my time here, I gotta give props to David, my friend on Zamami and lifestyle inspirer. Whether it's about running & fitness, ecology, conservation, whatever, this dude excels.

So with the support of friends, the challenge of a bet (I correctly chose my position as 6th of 6), I caught the 2:00 ferry with Cliff, stretched on the ride over, slept for 30 minutes (a little girl woke me up with a misplaced step to the testicles), drank unholy amounts of water, and got ready to rock.

By the time we arrived, the full marathon had started, so only the halfers were still at Mike's place on Iheya. It was a good feeling, knowing that I'd be getting into the race with five other JET adventurers, meeting up with everyone at the finish line, close to three hours spent touring the island before and after sunset. The field where we were to start and finish as full of people and the energy was awesome. I was ready to run.

And so we started at 5:00, making our way out to the main road around the island. Thankfully, I took my heart rate monitor; I made it a goal to stay around 180-185, considering I had no training whatsoever to speak of (unless you count karate). I felt good, never out of breath. It was just the legs, knees and feet (okay, and the incredible urge to want to pull over and squat) that pulled me to a walk after the first 10km. I also walked all the aid stations, because I learned the lesson during the Chicago half-marathon years ago, that drinking water, not inhaling it, is the way to go.

So I took it slow and steady, walking quite a bit after the halfway point. But the energy was still there, the inspiration to finish the race and make this the start of something good, a new habit. And the people were nice, too! After a 500 yen coin fell out of my back pocket, a lady stopped, picked it up, caught up to me, handed it back, then passed me. I told her to keep it, but she wouldn't.

Kilometer after kilometer, aid station after aid station, the distance shrank. The crowds reappeared, the internal energy that was keeping me going kept going. I distinctly remember passing the 1km and 500m marks, knowing that I was so close to being done, to doing this amazing thing.

Climbing the last hill, entering the track and the last 150 meters, I was cheered on by the small group we had, and I picked up the pace to finish strong. Crossing the line, which was a constant shift of staff members so as to have a new finish tape up for the succession of runners, was awesome. I felt good, I could walk, I wasn't dying, and I got my medal (glass, actually). Though I had a lingering upset stomach for a bit, a healthy burp rid me of most of that feeling. The rest of the night was spent lounging around the field, eating and drinking, chatting with the peeps.

The next day was good, sore, but not unbearably so. I could walk, I could climb stairs, I could let myself down stairs, all was good. And I felt like a champion for taking the challenge and getting through it. That experience of the weekend has only led me to want to get back into running. With all the fun to be had and the support to be received, who wouldn't?

So a final thanks to those that urged me to do it - I had a blast and look forward to the next one.

-V