Guest post by Karyn: Japan on 10,000 yen a day

Greetings all of Melissa’s blog followers.  If you have noticed that she has been remiss in posting for the last week, I take full responsibility as she and Jeff have been very busy entertaining us, her parents.  So, to make up for her absence, I offer this guest blog on just a few of my observations:

Non-conformity

Aaron is right: Tokyo is like many other large American cities – just filled with Japanese people.  However, the cultural homogeneity and conformity that we Americans have been led to believe in isn’t at all what I have observed.  There is clear evidence of the genetic influence of Caucasian, African, and other-Asian on the faces I’ve seen on whichever form of mass transit we are riding that day.  And the dress ranges from traditional kimonos (most often observed in sites of historical, spiritual or cultural importance) to some wild get-ups that would impress Lady Gaga and make heads turn in even the most liberal enclaves of San Francisco or Greenwich Village.

 Non-standard Precautions

In health care [Karyn is a nurse] we refer to the routine level of personal protection devices (masks, gloves, etc) as Standard Precautions.  For you non-medical persons, basically this amounts to washing your hands between patients and wearing gloves if you may touch something “yucky.” But the CDC recommendations on the practice of wearing masks in public includes those for whom going out in public would represent a danger to themselves or others; and even then only when staying home (the preferred course of action) is not an option.  That means persons who are very compromised (i.e. on chemotherapy) or are incredibly contagious (i.e. have tuberculosis).  I am very amused by the number of people wearing masks as they go about their daily business.  Even more amusing is that only rarely is the mask employed in the recommended manner.  Covering only the mouth?  Using it as a beard warmer? Having it loosely draped across the face?  In other words, useless.  

Engrish

Let me start by saying that like most Americans, I only speak one language.  I do know a fair amount of medical Spanish – more like Spanglish – that I successfully use when communicating simple things to my Spanish speaking patients.   Even so, I am quite amused with the Engrish that I read on everything from signs to clothing.  I have been photographing my favorites to include in my scrapbooking such as these found in Melissa & Jeff’s neighborhood:  a clothing store named “Nincompoop Capacity” and a barber shop called “Bad Nice”.  When buying bottled water your choices include “Calpis” and “Pocari Sweat”.  My all time favorite (which I was unable to photograph) was the toddler wearing a baseball cap that said “Suicidal 

Tendencies”.  As Dave Berry would say – that would make a great name for a rock band.

The Honeymooners

Melissa and Jeff are very happy, and seem very much at home here in their teeny apartment in this big city.  Yes, Melissa, you are right – I could fit two of your apartments in my family room – with room to spare!  And while I fully expected Jeff, the scholar, to speak fluent Japanese, I am wholly amazed at the amount that Melissa is able to read and speak comfortably in just six months.  And for a person who has never lived in a large metropolitan area, I am astonished at the ease at which she navigates the maze of a subway system – in another language!  Finally, while I always knew that Jeff and Melissa both enjoy eating well – it has been amusing eating our way thru Tokyo and Kyoto - except the fish eyeballs. Usually Jeff and Melissa are planning their next meal before they have finished the one in front of them.  And I have no idea how the Japanese remain so thin on such a carb heavy diet (Melissa and Jeff work out every day so that is obviously their secret) – and I am scared to weigh myself when I get back home. 

Well I could go on about the impressive range of toilet facilities, the cold rainy weather we have had these last couple days, and the unbelievable beauty and antiquity of the sites we have seen – but I have to save something for Melissa to write about….

Karyn

Guest post: The Marathon by Jeff

On February 28th, I ran in the Tokyo Marathon with 31,999 other participants. 

I was determined to come in under 3 hours and, if all the stars were aligned, meet the NYC marathon automatic qualifier time of 2:55.

To begin with, winter marathon training in Tokyo is much easier than in Ithaca/Syracuse. No icicles dripping off my nose and chin, no skating across ice patches, no getting blown into the large snow banks on some of the more pernicious high-elevation plains. The worst weather here involves rain and occasional snow, but it usually melts within half a day. (Actually, the worst weather I think I've experienced in Tokyo happened for the first 20 miles of the marathon).

However, I do desperately miss being able to hop out of my front door and be surrounded by the trees and nature that I get back home. Here, I navigate narrow city streets on my way to some parks and rivers, which are actually quite nice, so I can't complain.  For my longer runs (20 mile range), I can hit some of the best places to run in Tokyo, including a loop around the Imperial Palace and the Outer Meiji Shrine park decicated the Japan's first modern emperor.

Anyway, on to the race. 

Grim weather forecasts sent me to the 100 yen shop (the dollar store, or with today's lousy exchange rate, the $1.11 shop) a couple days before the race to get a cheap poncho, hat and unflattering arm warmers. (see the pictures)

On race day, I arrived in Shinjuku at about 7:30am for a 9:10am start to find thousands of runners half naked in the station, changing out of the travel clothes and into race outfits and rain gear. The race starts west of the station, home to many of Tokyo's tallest skyscrapers (whose elevator buttons are smeared with our fingerprints).

I milled around in an attempt to stay warm, but after I took my post-race clothes to the drop-off point, I followed signs to the "B" waiting corral, which had started to fill up. Standing in one place in the chilly rain for 40 minutes didn't seem like the best pre-race warmup, but no one really had any options. I was cold, but so was everyone else.  Perhaps with the exception of the guy in front of me holding the umbrella, whose run-off gave everyone around him an extra dose of cold rain.

I could see the start line about 100 yards ahead, and felt close, but there were probably several thousand people ahead of me. I was desperate to get moving, and finally, after the opening ceremony, the wheel chair start and a bunch of group cheers, I shed my 100 yen shop purchases (except the hat), set my gps to get a satellite lock. Surprisingly, most of the others around me in ponchos and garbage bags kept them on.

After the gun went off, we commenced the slow shuffle towards the start line. I felt impatient for a split second, but quickly realized that I'm here to have fun and soak in the fact that I'm doing it with 32,000 other crazies who would be cruising on foot down Tokyo streets that close down to car traffic today and today only.

I hoped to go out at a 6:30min/mile pace (about 4:02min/kilometer), but when I hit the first kilometer in over 6 minutes, I started to panic, unsure of how long it had taken me to get to the start line. I weaved through the throng as quickly as I could, and before too long, the crowds thinned out and I felt comfortable to sit back and hold my pace.

I rounded the Imperial Palace at about the 10k point (42:52) and caught a glimpse of the Tokyo Tower, which I passed under a couple miles later and mused on how small I must look to the people standing at the observation deck, and damn them if they took the elevator rather than climbing the 600 steps to watch down on other people with sore legs. 

The 10k to 20k leg of the race is an out-and-back, which eventually let me see the lead runners flying by in the opposite direction. This gave me a jolt of excitement about my own race, and a feeling like I had pretty a decent spectator "seat" for watching their race. 

At the turn-around point of the out-and-back, I realized that the rain had been at my back for the last 5k or so, and now it was time to eat it. Rain turned to sleet, and it came pelting us in the face with a vengeance. My frozen fingers were practically useless for opening my gel nutrition packet, which I eventually succeeded in doing by clam-gripping the packet between thumb and hand, and tearing off the top tab with my teeth. Sweet sugar.

I hit the 20k point in 1:24:01, within a couple minutes of my target, and shortly thereafter heard Melissa screaming "Jeffrey, Gambare (work hard!)" She was a wonderful cheering squad of one, having coordinated where to be based my projected split times, and navigating Tokyo's confusing train stations and streets (race map here). I smiled at her and heard an "I LOVE YOU" as I rounded the corner.

The next 10k was another out-and-back towards Asakusa, where dancers performed in festival attire as the rest of us ran by. I popped a caffeine pill for an ergogenic aid, having weened myself off of my beloved coffee three weeks earlier in the hopes of it having the greatest effect.

I had been running right alongside a guy with a shirt that said "smile" (su-ma-i-ru) in Japanese script and shorts with a smiley face on the rear. Amid the poor visibility due to the rain/snow/sleet and my general haze, he was one of the few people I could consistently pick out of the moving crowd. He started pulling away at about the 25k point. However, as I neared 30k (2:05:44), I began to feel the effects of the caffeine kick in and give me a little boost, and I reeled him in and surged passed.

With just over 10k left, I felt like 90,000,000 yen (one million dollars). I ran one of my fastest miles at around 21 miles. In my last two marathons, I had started to slow a solid two miles earlier in the race, so holding the pace until now was a good sign. About on pace to hit 2:55, I begin to feel giddy. "I've got this in the bag," I kept on chanting to myself.

At the 35k point, however, I started to wear down and slow. The rain subsided, and my hands had thawed, so despite conditions finally turning around in my favor, my legs were beat. I slowed enough to realize by 40k (2:48:58) that my chances for breaking 2:55 were shot, but I knew that I could coast in under 3 hours.

The guy with the smiley-faced shorts passed me as we pulled into the finish area and I didn't care. Beyond the finish line were warm towels and food, and I cared deeply about them and nothing else.

I crossed the line at 2:59:03. I'm not quite sure what my chip time is yet, as I unwisely started my watch as the gun went off, so will have to wait for the Tokyo Marathon officials to send me my official finisher's certificate with net time on it. I'm guessing somewhere in the 2:57s. 

Next came the best organized finish I've ever experienced. I received my post-race gear quickly, changed into warm and dry clothes, and then rolled my jeans up to soak my sore feet in wooden hot tubs prepared by an onsen company. Bliss.

I was very pleased with my time, a personal best on a day in which the top runner came in nearly 5 minutes slower than the course record. And not coming in under the automatic NYC marathon qualifying time seems to be a good opportunity to take a break from marathons and focus on shorter distances, which I basically have ignored since high school x-country.

Waiting patiently for me in the "family meeting area" was Melissa, who yelled "I'm so proud of you" with teary eyes as she ran to give me a big hug. She's the best. She then treated me to an amazing falafel pita at a most improbable vegetarian food stand we spotted on our way to the station. Once arriving back in Koenji, we celebrated by having a large meal at New Koenji India, our favorite local eatery which deserves its own post some day. 

Jyanee (see ya),

Jeff 

For additional pictures, type in "2010" for the password, and my bib number "22494" here:
http://tm10eng.allsports.jp/event/00034096.html

For my 5k splits (relative to gun time), type in my bib number "22494" here:
http://p.tokyo42195.org/

For those interested in a good training plan, I followed this one with little variation: 
http://www.runnersworld.co.uk/racing/rws-garmin-ready-marathon-schedule-sub-300/2757.html

Guest Post: Tokyo, according to Aaron

m: What are you gonna call it?
a:  Tokyo.
m: You can't just call it Tokyo.
a:  I just did.  That's what I wrote in the subject line.
(several minutes of this)
m: Fine, we'll call it Tokyo.
___________________
___________________

Now I'm not going to try to reconcile an entire week of my life, regardless of its location in Tokyo (or New York or Syracuse or Richmond or EARTH for that matter!), but I will try to relate to Melissa's close friends and family several topics interesting to me, and likely only me, through the lens of my visit to Tokyo. Whether these tidbits say more about me or the city I'm visiting will be up to the reader to decide.

1) The technology of Japan is ok to lacking, at best. For years and years I/we've all heard about how exceptionally advanced the technology and gadgetry of Tokyo was as compared to the laggards in the USA. Well, other than a miraculously effective train and toilet system (and those are both world class) let me inform you all that everything else should be classified in the "less than or equal to" 8th grade grading system.  The cell phone industry, once dominated by NTT Docomo, is several years behind the ubiquitous iPhone and Blackberry world that the "handset-set" enjoys in the USA. I've seen plenty of iPhones, but BB hasn't penetrated this market yet, and I have to think that they won't. I know a lot of people in the USA that have more than 1 BB, and I personally have had to beg and plead to not be handed a FREE one.

2) There are Japanese people, everywhere. This may sound like the most banal or obvious statement that anyone has made since the latest steroids outing or politician-infidelity-admission, but I cannot fully explain the sight of waves of Japanese people walking around minding their own business, listening to Godknowswhat on their iPods. Unless Melissa has led a more international and diverse life than she's led me to believe, this blog is read by white people (make that white people used to seeing other white people constantly). I joked to my friends that the subway conveniently displays information in Japanese and English, but that the effort is wasted because the only English speakers on the trains are me, Melissa, and our bilingual Jeff. Anyway, if day 6 of this excursion has taught me anything, it is the limit of the narrow scope that my FM to Richmond to East Village life has shown me.

3) The world is smaller than you think. As I sat here this morning having a Skype conversation with my mom, I reflected and realized that had I been sitting in my apartment in New York, I'd be having the same verbal interaction. I suppose that I could hop on a bus/train/plane and go to Syracuse from NYC, but couldn't I do the same thing from Tokyo (albeit a longer journey)? And if the transit is the only thing that's different, there's really no difference anyway if you're talking to someone in a place that you're not going to visit anyway.

So, feel free to look back and realize that my observations are whittled down to (in 8 words or less) "Tokyo is the same but with Japanese people." Or not.