fuji-san: it's been a hard day's night

We couldn't live for a whole year in Japan and not climb Mt.  Fuji, right?

So we did.

And it was spectacular. 

Let me start from the beginning.

We had always intended on climbing Fuji-san, but couldn't really make any plans to do so until the official season opened in July and Jeff's paper was done and delivered.  Jeff delivered his paper Friday, July 2, and we immediately started scouting the weather report.  Originally, we planned to head for the mountain on Tuesday, but when the forecast started projecting hard rain, we pushed it up a day to Monday, set to be a clear night.

Yes, night.  As the view from the mountain tends to be clearest in the early morning, and watching the sunrise from the top is an experience not to be missed, we decided to follow the Japanese tradition of timing our climb to arrive at the summit just before sunrise. 

So we hopped in our rented Mazda Demio (known as the Mazda2 in America, and absolutely the smallest car we've driven) in Tokyo, and drove the three or so hours to the base of the mountain.  We loaded up on a bento dinner and started the ascent up the seasonal road to the trail head. 

Now, has anyone ever driven up the Whiteface Mountain road?  Steep, right?  Have you tried it in a Demio?  There were several moments when we really were not sure our poor little rental car was going to make it.  That little guy would not survive Upstate New York.  Or any area where one might encounter hills. 

We hung out in the car conserving our energy until 10 p.m. when we laced up our old running shoes (we're working with what we've got here, folks!) hoisted our loaded packs on our backs, and started up the mountain.  After taking a few "we're climbing Mt. Fuji!" photos, of course.

That's me behind the headlamp!  My legs (in black underarmor leggings) seem to have disappeared!

Jeff appears to be showing us how wide his steps are going to be going up the mountain.

We started our ascent from the so-called fifth station of the Subashiri Trail, originating at just below 2000 meters.  It should be noted that almost everyone starts from the fifth station of one of the several paths to the top, so really, they all should be called the first stations, not the fifth stations, but that is for another time. 

The books, blogs, and tourist information all told us it would take six or six and a half hours for the ascent, so we gave ourselves plenty of time to make it to the top by about 4:30.  Jeff was concerned about the altitude sickness that we'd read some people get from climbing too quickly, and we are never ones to miss our snacks, so we planned to stop at the stations along the way to acclimate and have a bite to eat. 

Here I am the the torii marking the sixth station - the first one we came to.  I look quite pleased with myself, don't I?

That's because we were still feeling warm and well rested and mistakenly thought getting to the sixth station meant we were somehow closer to our goal.  We had a lot to learn.

There was a nice young man on his way home to San Diego from Korea with a day and a half layover in Tokyo who we met on the trail.  I know, it's ridiculous, but let's move on.  The important part of telling you about him was because he took our picture.  It's all about us, remember. 

We walked with him for a while, chatted about how crazy he was, and stopped again for some much needed peanut butter nourishment. As we were moving upward, it was getting noticeably colder, so it was time to add some layers.  I would regret this choice about two minutes after we started moving again, due to the quick pace we were keeping (remember Jeff's aforementioned huge steps?).

I think our fast feet were a little too much for our new friend, as he politely declined to join us after the second stop.  We really didn't feel like we were moving all that quickly, though!

After the seventh station, we could feel the air getting thinner and much colder, which slowed us down a bit.  We were also getting a little tired, which makes perfect sense since it was about 1 am and we'd been walking for three hours already.  Oh, and there was this too:

See that stuff I'm walking on?  Looks like dirt, right?  Don't let that fool you!  It is actually something much closer to sand, and gave us quite the workout up the mountain!  And it may be difficult to tell, but to my right in the picture, just off the path, is snow!  Hard to believe we left sweltering Tokyo just a few hours before.

And here is my husband.  This picture doesn't illustrate anything important about the climb, and in fact, I don't even remember taking it.  But it is silly, and that's Jeff.  He was wearing a towel wrapped around his head.  This might seem totally weird in America, but in Japan, every other laborer and ramen shop dude has a towel wrapped on his head, so Jeff fit right in.  Except for the red beard of course.

Ok, just one more for good measure.  And cause he's cute.  Those lights up there were more people climbing.  Except for our crazy friend from San Diego, we only saw two other people before arriving at the big eighth station (where two trails converge, and people can sleep over on the mountain).  We were sure happy we chose one of the less popular routes when we saw the lines of people snaking up the mountain.  A quick stop at the less than comfortable "pay" toilet (there was a box where one was expected to place a ¥100 coin, about a dollar, for use of the facilities, though I doubt everyone - and by everyone I mean American tourists - is as honest as me) and we headed out to beat the crowd to the top. 

Jeff tried to get a good picture of the line of headlamps and brightly colored NorthFace/Patagonia/MontBell/Columnia-clad climbers, but this was the best we could do:

Each light is one person's headlamp as seen by us looking down the mountain.  I think it does give a sense of just how many people were charging up the mountain behind us.  No, charging is not the word for it.  How does one describe something that moves slowly?  Crawling, maybe, is a better word.  We left the station at the same time as this group.  In fact several members of this pack were in front of us and we passed them without any effort whatsoever.  I know not everyone is in a good shape as us Jeff, and you're supposed to climb slowly in order to avoid altitude sickness, but it was taking more effort to walk with these people than to just pass them!

Of course, Jeff couldn't just pass them and then ease back into the leisurely pace we had been enjoying before, he wanted to put some good distance in between us and the pack.  Hence, our picture of the pack from 200 meters away.  He insisted we get to the top and find a good spot to watch the sunrise.  Which turned out to be a very good decision.

Mind you, our hike was projected to take six and a half hours (six hours and twenty-five minutes, I believe, if we are to be precise) and at this point we'd only been walking for under four and a half hours.  We were on pace to make it to the top in less time than it takes to roast a turkey.

We made it to the top well before the large crowds, though there were already a dozen or so people up there, huddling wherever they could find some relief from the wind which was oppressive.  I am not a small person, and for a minute there, I was concerned I was going to be blown off the side of a rock wall.

At this point, we were getting colder and decided it was about time to get really bundled up.  We layered jeans over our running tights, added several layers of shirts and sweatshirts (actually, Jeff took off the two dry-fit running shirts he had been wearing and put on two new ones since he'd gotten sweaty climbing the mountain - at one point he was standing shirtless on the top of the mountain in sub-zero temperatures with the wind gusting around him), and snuggled together in a small corner huddled underneath our lifesaving ¥100 tarp.

We had come fully prepared with several warm and wind-breaking layers, but not having winter jackets and insulating pants, there was little we could do to actually get warm.  So we shivered together, using a free hand warmer Jeff got as swag from the marathon and a heated therapeutic back wrap meant for our long flight to try and warm ourselves (I was so cold I didn't think the back warmer was even working until we started our descent and I started warming up!).

We had arrived at the summit just before 3 a.m., less than 5 hours after we started our climb, so we snuggled under our tarp for quite some time as others filled in around us.  We had been fortunate to find a great place to wait out the sun.  Jeff had developed quite a headache and was feeling nauseous and generally crappy which he attributed to to altitude sickness, but I was feeling no nausea or headache which he attributed to my being able to endure other vomit-inducing activities like roller coasters and bungee jumping.  I was only feeling the cold - or not feeling as the situation progressed and my feet and hands started to numb.

But then about 4:15...

 And 4:30...

At this point it was getting lighter and it seemed at least to be getting a bit warmer (seemed being the operative word) so we decided to venture from the windbreak and explore the top of the mountain a bit.  It was quite windy still, and the fog from around the mountain and in the crater was bringing the sun in and out of sight every minute or so, but we still managed to snag some good views.  Here is the sunrise through the torri on the top of the mountain.   I think those are coins stuck in the wood, but I am not sure why.  Jeff?

I am also not sure why there is a hook hanging down from the top.

With the fog blowing from the volcano crater and over our heads, the sunrise was constantly becoming obscured, only to be unveiled a moment later when the fog would get pushed to the side. This video, taken with our Flip (thanks Michael!) shows the nature of our experience of the fleeting sunrise at Fuji.



Here are some pretty typical Japanese climbers:  Twenty-something, fancy (warm) hiking attire (though less colorful than most), nice hiking packs, telescoping hiking poles, taking pictures with cell phone camera.

There were in fact many, many very nice cameras, tripods, and lenses on the top of the mountain - much nicer than the one I was holding (the Japanese take their photography seriously - it is no accident that Canon, Olympus, Nikon, Pentax, and Sony are all Japanese companies).  There were also many, many people using their cell phones (rather than a point-and-shoot) to take pictures of the sunrise.  This was less crazy than the two American men we saw in shorts, so I can't be too hard on them.

This next picture illustrates several important things:

First, the fog.  This was a moment when it was fairly light.  The way the winds were up there, one moment it would be almost perfectly clear, another visibility would be about 30 feet.

Second, the colorful outfits of the climbers.  There are more North Face colors and patterns sold in Japan that America has ever dreamed of.  I guess it would be an advantage in a search-and-rescue operation, though?

Third, and most treacherous, the terrain.  There's some snow to the left, and you can see the rocks and sand vary in color between a deep red and black.  Also, the rocks are very light.  Instead of a deep clanking noise that rocks in the Adirondacks might make when kicked around, these rocks make a light clinking noise.


We walked for about an hour down to the eighth station (where many people turned off to the more popular trail, and we took the road less traveled) just like this.  waiting for the person in front of you to move so that you could.  In fact in some places it was even more crowded than this.  And there were at times people who had missed the sunrise still on their way up, making things more difficult. 

Here's another picture to get a sense of what kind of crowds we're talking about.  And this is before the peak season.


And here's Melissa looking like a turtle.





 Once we had passed the eighth station going down (the place where the paths diverge, and where most hikers would be heading to a different base station), we were free wheelin', with only a handful of other hikers to contend with rather than hundreds. From this point on, the descent took a separate but mostly parallel path from the ascent. The part of the trail is called Suna-bashiri, literally sand-run, and with each step, your foot slides and depresses several inches to make for a soft landing. Here is Jeff testing out the terrain.



The path is actually used by large tractors to haul provisions to the lodges scattered on the mountain, which allows their owners to jack up the rates of the meals exponentially with the elevation. Cup noodles, for example, fetched the equivalent of about $7. Being clever and un-dupe-able, we brought enough snacks to last the entire trip. Here we are again, punishing our legs on the sandy descent.



Still in good spirits there, but that would soon fade as the terrain continued on like that for nearly the entire way down. Despite the "soft landing" of the sandy trail, it forces your legs to overcompensate in an effort to stabilize your body, meaning that it takes quite a toll. On top of this, our low-top sneakers, not known for being sand-repellent, needed to be removed every ten minutes or so in order to dump out the part of the trail that was obviously trying to escape from the mountain with us.

We did take a fair share of breaks, careful not to repeat the altitude sickness of the ascent by going down too quickly. Also, we would have been remiss to make the entire descent without a celebration of a beloved pub in Penn Yan, New York with the vista, which only seemed to get better with time.

Nearing the end, we both had that feeling of hitting the wall. The last mile or so, though perhaps the most moderate part of the trail, seemed to take an eternity to finish, and we hoped to see the parking lot as we turned each bend.

We pulled in to the trail head just after 8 am, exactly ten hours after embarking, and with zero sleep. A woman greeted us with a salt-loaded tea to replenish what we had sweated out. Although it was welcome, they were clearly trying to lure us into the souvenir shop, which obviously worked, because we left with a few postcards. 

Back to the parking lot, we managed to squeak out a smile using the hill we had just conquered as a backdrop.

We hopped in the car, headed to Hakone with hopes that we'd hit an onsen for a long soak. We had also planned to capture an image of Fuji from a distance, but the overcast sky turned the mountain into a foggy gaze. Before we could even find an onsen, fatigue took over, and we decided it would be best to head home, which we did. We returned the car by one, took quick showers, grabbed lunch at our favorite daytime eatery, New Koenji India, and slept hard from 3pm until 8pm, then midnight until 10am the next day. That's about what you can expect when you forgo sleep to climb a nation's highest peak.

I think we're still recovering, and even writing this post was a challenge with so much to cover - it took both Jeff and Melissa to complete (Melissa wrote most of the beginning, Jeff most of the end).

Now, for one last adventure out of Tokyo, leaving bright and early tomorrow morning.

Mata ne,
Melissa (and Jeff!)

Special thanks go out to our parents for making this trip possible!!

himawari*

Today was a somewhat uneventful day in the lives of the Newlyweds.  You see, we are Upstate New York people.  This hot and humid Tokyo weather really does a number on us.  Allegedly, the high temperature was 82 degrees today.  It felt about 95 degrees with 95% humidity.

In spite of the conditions, we decided it would be a lovely day for a walk.  We found a park, which is not surprising considering there is one on every other corner in Tokyo, and Jeff insisted on climbing the jungle gym.  Of course.

He also insisted on buying me a flower.  Isn't he sweet?

Apparently not enough of the flower could be seen in this photo, so another picture needed to be taken.  This is after our late evening run, showers, dinner, and placing the flower in a wine bottle vase (which you can't see).   But now there's proof.

Now, an evening of watching the World Cup and Wimbledon.  We're cheering for the underdogs: South Africa over France (woohoo!) and Nishikori (the Japanese player) over Nadal (not looking too good).

Mata ne,
Melissa

*Himawari means "circle around the sun." It's the Japanese word for sunflower.

kyoto in the rain, take two

After a few days in Tokyo, we hopped aboard a shinkansen (bullet train) and headed to Kyoto.  Those of you who, like our Vice President, have only enjoyed the pleasure of an Amtrak train should take note, a shinkansen is a step above.  Nicer than your average late model airplane and complete with reclining seats, western toilets, and flight attendants, the shinkansen gets you to a destination across Japan faster and in comfort and style.  Needless to say, I was excited for the trip, in spite of the early boarding time. 

When we got to Kyoto it was raining so we dropped our luggage off at the ryokan and went right to lunch at the original Tenka Ippin, a Japan-famous ramen restaurant.  As usual, Jeff and I ordered ours niku nuki, without meat, and I got the small size.  This in no way means I had a healthy lunch.

Two things: 
1. I eat way too much ramen.  Arguably, any ramen is too much ramen because it is NOT good for you.   
2. I can justify eating way too much ramen while I am living here, knowing that I won't be able to get it in America.  It is near impossible to find "good" ramen in America.  In fact, we don't know of any.  

Tenka Ippin did live up to its reputation, by the way.  Yum. 

Because it was such a gross day, we decided to explore the Nishiki Market in central Kyoto.  It is a thoroughly modern arcade-style market filled with everything from ABC mart, the ever-present shoe store, to small stalls selling exotic ingredients for a traditional Japanese dinner, to a 400 year old family business selling very cool looking, and very expensive, knives. 

It was a rainy day, and every tourist in Kyoto had the same idea as us.  The Nishiki Market was packed.

Many people are surprised to see temples scattered about a modern-looking city, and mixed in with the clothing and souvenir stores throughout the market are several examples of century-old temples and shrines. 

After we'd had enough wandering around we sought out another of my mother's must-dos in Japan: shabu shabu and sukiyaki.  These are both distinctly Japanese methods of cooking very thinly sliced meat, and this restaurant happened to provide a split pot for enjoying both of them.  The fancy set-up:

 It's a Japanese style private room where you sit on the floor at a hori-kotatsu (a kotatsu, in this case, with your feet tucked in a recessed hole under the table).  

They're excited.  My dad because of the amount of meat on the table (it's bottomless as well) and my mom because she's apparently been hearing about this from her friend Cindi since she booked the tickets.
For the record, shabu shabu is swished through a boiling broth (yes, that is the best word for it - shabu shabu is the onomatopoeia for the swishing motion) of vegetables and tofu.  Sukiyaki is grilled/sauteed in a shallow dark broth with onions and a weird tofu (and potentially other vegetables, but we can't remember).

After dinner, we were feeling a little tired from the travel and a little soggy from the rainy weather so we went back to the ryokan to hang out.  We were in Kyoto during sakura season and reasonably priced accommodations meant that we were a little cramped for the first night. 

Those are the futons for all four of us.  Good thing we're family. 

More of Kyoto to come...

Mata ne,
Melissa

lunaversary number seven!

Tuesday we celebrated our seven month lunaversary and as is the custom in this family (established precisely seven months ago) we celebrated in style.

We spent much of the day walking around enjoying a beautiful Tokyo day.  The sakura are in full bloom and we were able to take in some hanami (flower viewing) in the Imperial Palace gardens.  Of course, on a beautiful day the garden, which is only open at select times of the year, was packed with both Japanese and foreign tourists.  It was worth fighting the crowds though!

 In the evening we went out for a nice dinner at a small restaurant right in our neighborhood that I've been wanting to check out for some time.  We're sure glad we did!  The servers were very attentive, the food was amazing and very reasonably priced, and the sake pouring, as you can see, was quite generous!

Not only is the good sized cup overflowing, but the dish under it is completely filled to the brim!  Let's just say I only had one.

It was a great find.  I wish I could share with all the world the name of the place, but unfortunately, I have no idea what it was.  I'm fairly certain that it doesn't have one.  At least not one advertised on the outisde of the building.  It is instead distinguished by two large dried fish that grace the front of the facade.  We will be going again.  Very shortly in fact!

We spent the whole cold and rainy day Wednesday cleaning our whole entire apartment from top to bottom and doing every piece of laundry we could find in preparation from our next set of visitors....

Mata ne,
Melissa

Editor's note: Jeff claims it does have a name.  I'll check this out tomorrow.

philosopher's walk

On our recent trip to Kyoto we thinkers enjoyed a contemplative stroll along this path. 

The Tetsugaku-no-michi, also known as the Philosopher's Walk, is found in northern Kyoto, just outside the Ginkaku-ji (sliver temple).  It's about 2 km long and a pleasant path for an afternoon stroll, particularly in sakura (cherry blossom) season.  Unless it's a particularly overcast, dark and dreary day.  And it starts raining on you while you're walking it.  The picture doesn't do it justice. 

We plan to give this one another shot in a few days with my parents.

Mata ne,
Melissa

zen gardens!

There are plenty of Buddhist temples in Kyoto and thus several fine examples of zen gardens.  These intricate rock gardens are more complex and on a larger scale than I imagined.  It is said they are best viewed on a rainy day, so Kyoto nicely prepared one for us.

Remember, it's all made of tiny pebbles and sand!

Notice the very nice looking trees and well-kept mossy areas?  The rocks are not the only things they take very good care of - Jeff told me the last time he was here they were sweeping the moss!

I can't imagine the kind of time it takes to get this right.  It would drive my perfectionist self nuts!  Notice how the lines are so straight separating the smooth and rough bands.

Further along in the garden area behind the temple there were beautiful paths to wander.  (This one was blocked off, possibly because of the rain/mud?)

Oh, I guess I should mention that this was at the Ginkaku-ji or Silver Temple.  Do not let the name mislead you!  There is no silver here.  Having seen the gold-leafed storehouse I mistakenly assumed that this temple might actually be made of silver.  Turns out there was a plan to cover it completely in silver leaf, but it was never carried out.  Classic case of "don't count your chickens before they hatch."

Mata ne,
Melissa

weather confusion

Tokyo, we have a problem here.

Today's weather in Syracuse, New York (observed):

86 and SUNNY!   

Today's weather in Tokyo (forecasted):

  

55 and partly cloudy.

For reference, this is 5 degrees colder than the average for Tokyo and 14 degrees warmer than the record for Syracuse.

I expect to see signs of improvement soon. 

In spite of this we are going out for a little Hanami party of two plus thousands of others in Ueno park this afternoon.


Mata ne,
Melissa

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

not again...

Tokyo, I think we need to have a talk.  Your behavior in the weather department today is simply unacceptable.  It is not kind to tease me a week's worth of gorgeous, sunny, spring-like days and then pull a stunt like this. 

It is March, need I remind you?  You've promised me beautiful sakura viewing picnics in a matter of weeks!  And now.... SNOW!?

I expect more from you Tokyo.  I hope you will have come to your senses by tomorrow. 

Mata ne,
Melissa

hunting and fishing and reading

Yesterday at the library I picked up "The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing"  Let's just say I was mislead by the title. 

Not that I thought that it would actually be a hunting and fishing guide, those of you who know me well can guess that those activities have little appeal to me.  I did go fishing once or twice with my dad in the Adirondaks when I was a kid.  All I remember is that fishing is boring and you have to touch worms. 

I went in under the assumption that this book would be in some way adventurous - or at least use interesting hunting and fishing metaphors to explain some aspect of the main character's life. Not so.  It was a hollow memoir of a shallowly crafted character's poor dating choices. 

The jacket reviews were outstanding.  Maybe I should have been tipped off not to trust them when the only publication produced by the quoted authors that I recognized was Cosmopolitan. 

On the bright side, I picked up the book yesterday and I'm finished with it already.  Not because I stayed up half the night hiding under the sheets with a flashlight reading as I was known to do with The Baby-sitter's Club books, but because it was deceivingly short.  It feels like a fairly substantial book, coming in just under 300 pages, but the typeface is large and there can not be more than 200 words on any page. 

It wasn't a terrible book, but a great work of literature it was not.  Well, moving on.  To another pillar of the Japanese literary world, Kenzaburo Oe and A Personal Matter.

And we did get to take a glorious bike ride around Ogikubo today followed by gnocci, broccoli, and spinach in white wine sauce for dinner.  Spring is springing!

Mata ne,
Melissa

well hello, miss march!

Where has the time gone?  It's hard to believe Jeff and I have been living in Tokyo for 4 months already!

The weather is beginning to change, and aside from February taking one last cheap shot at us on Sunday with nasty conditions for the marathon, I think we're in for a beautiful new season.  The trees are already beginning to blossom and I am very excited for what's to come. Something I've been looking forward to since before we crossed the pacific: the sakura.

Sakura (cherry blossoms) are an integral part of the identity of this country.  Flower viewing (hanami) is a sport in which all participate in the spring, sipping sake and enjoying bento under the trees.

The trees have just started to hint at the beauty that is to come, but it's enough to get me on the edge of my seat, ready to toast the season.

Mata ne,
Melissa

tokyo marathon: the before

Tomorrow is the Tokyo Marathon featuring my cute husband... and 30,000 other runners.  Running is really big in Japan.

We headed over to the expo the other day where, as you might imagine, there were a plethora of photo opportunities.  Jeff and I took advantage of several of them.

At the booth of the official photographers of the event.  Ever the fashion plate, he matched the background.










Tired after such a long run!

Hopefully that will be his time when he crosses the finish line for real!









Yet another finish line photo. I think this is supposed to be the time of the top finishers or something.


We also got our picture taken at the Nike purikura booth.  Japan has taken the art and fun of photo booths to a whole new level, and such entertainment is deemed appropriate for any and all occasions.



Tonight he's been preparing all his stuff for the morning.  We had a little fashion show.

His racing outfit...

With the 100 yen shop arm warmers (which may or may not be leg warmers) and hat he'll wear at the start if he's cold.  (He'll throw them away when he warms up.)






Ready to go with the poncho and rain pants (also from the 100 yen shop) he bought in case it's really nasty in the morning.  The forecast is still for rain. 



If you're interested, you can track his splits in real time (starting at 7:10 p.m. east coast time) by visiting here and entering his bib number: 22494.  He should be done about 10 p.m. 

Disclaimer: The website is all in Japanese. I have been assured that all one needs do is type those numbers in a box.  Let me know how it goes. 

He's gonna do great, I just know.  Now I just have to plan my cheering route!

Gambare, Jeff!!

Mata ne,
Melissa

good day sunshine

Today's forecast for Syracuse, NY:
(courtesy of weather.com)

Cloudy with temperatures steady near the low 30s. Winds WNW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of snow 90%. Snowfall of 1 to 2 inches through 10am.

Don't worry, it gets better...

Winter storm warning for Syracuse, NY until 7 a.m. EST Friday.  

 [That's Friday, for the record.  Not Thursday. Winter storm warning through tomorrow.]

Snow will become steadier and heavier this morning across Central New York and Northeast Pennsylvania. Expect snow, heavy at times this afternoon and tonight. Snowfall rates will range from 1 to 3 inches per hour late today and this evening.  By the time the snow tapers off late tonight storm totals of 12 to 20 inches will be common.

That blue up there, in the weather.com satellite picture - that's all snow.

Wow.  Be careful out there.   Get out the warm blankets and locate your flashlights, just in case.  My prescription for a day like that: a bottle of red wine and a good book.

In other news...

Today's weather in Tokyo, Japan:

63° F and SUNNY. 

My prescription for a day like that: iced caramel soy latte and a good book.

Sorry if the picture is a little bright. It really was that sunny.

I can't say I'm missing the Northeast right now.  I know I'll be buried in it with you next year, so I'll enjoy this while I can.  Of course, as Jeff keeps reminding me, it's supposed to rain for the next three days.  And Sunday is the Tokyo Marathon in which he is running.  Neither of us are excited about that.

I did make a really good sign for him though - it's waterproof.

Gambare!!

Melissa