The 60km Race That Was 40 Miles

As a teacher, there are times when all sanity leaves your body and replaces it with an empty shell-puppet going through the motions of life. One of these times inevitably occurs during the horrible, no-good, very bad testing days. The only thing worse than taking standardized tests is watching others take standardized tests.

Boredom exceeds breathing. You begin to play games. Harmless little games that help pass the time.

1. Breath count- Make your breathing match the rhythm of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody
2. Eye Contact- Stare at a single student to see how long it takes for them to look up
3. The Weave- Make intricate patterns between desks as you oversee each bubble filled in completely
4. Spy Alert- Pretend you are undercover and looking for spy gadgets in an evil meeting of mindless drones
5. Blink 182- Count the times you blink in a minute and try to reduce it by half for the next consecutive 10 minutes

Needless to say, I might hate standardized tests more emphatically than my students will ever comprehend. 

In such a frame of mind, I made a ghastly error in judgment. Boredom and inactivity bred insanity. I logged onto my computer during a break and noticed an enticing email from SPORTS ENTRY, an online running race calendar that periodically sends me suggestions as to what life altering race I should try next. At the very top, I caught the word "ULTRAmarathon." 

With less than a month before said ultra, I signed up, paid my money, got a plane ticket, located a BnB and still had time to regret the decision before students came back for more testing. It only took five minutes of testing gamage for my mind to rebel loudly at my impulse led stupidity; however, the damage was done. I was running an ultramarathon.

... One month passes in which I run more than a lot...

Which brings us to last weekend.

Location: Ishigaki Island Airport, Japan

Time: High Noon Saturday, May 13th

Lost. I was lost. Ishigaki is not Okinawa where bus stops are easy to see and understand. No. Ishigaki boasts bus stops with no signs that practically scream "LOCALS ONLY!" Lost is a fairly common situation for me, so I kept my cool and hailed a cab for the first time in Japan.

What I did not realize is that Japanese cab doors open with a push of a button on the driver's side door. I bounded three feet into the air before I realized it was normal. With the terror of the door averted, we were on our way. 

Ishigaki is beautifully clothed with mountain, farmland, jungle and beach. Although a language breach spanned the distance between front and back seats, my cabbie decided to give me a true Ishigaki tour. He must have noticed my stupid excited expression as I gazed out the windows because he proceeded to stop along the side of the road at any interesting landmark including but not limited to the following with attached descriptions:

1. Ocean= "See!"
2. Mountain= "Big"
3. Sugar Cane= "Smell Sweet"
4. Tobacco= "Best"
5. Cows = "World Famous Ishigaki Beef"

I didn't have the heart or Japanese to tell him I was a non-smoking vegetarian on island for 24 hours. 

Location: Kumanomi Rentals, Ishigaki

Time: Noon thirty Saturday, May 13th

The sign was in Japanese, so I whipped out Google Translate. Roughly translated, the following sign hung above the door to the location where I rented a scooter. 

I am out. If you are in a hurry, call.

 I sat down and picked up my book. It was useless to call. I tried the previous week only to be flummoxed by language barriers to the point where a wonderfully kind bilingual friend placed the reservation for me. The sun warmed my toes and my book kept me entertained for an hour till the proprietor arrived. As he exited the vehicle, he motioned at me and asked, "Katorin San? Reservation?" I smiled and used my epic Japanese skills, "Hai."

He so was relieved to find I have a Japanese scooter license (YES you need a license to drive a 50cc scooter in Japan), that he heaved the biggest sigh I've heard in Japan and breathed, "Nihongo!" as if it was his last lifeline. Admittedly, I laughed. I can completely understand the sentiment when something appears in English. About fifteen minutes later, armed with directions on a paper map, I set out to find my AirBnB.

Location: ?, Ishigaki

Time: 1400 Saturday, May 13th

Lost. As I said, being lost is my status quo. The miracle of google maps is ever in the forefront of my phone apps. As I was Driving Miss Daisy across Ishigaki roads, Klutzy smurf hit with a gusto. I dropped my phone from my lap to the waiting asphalt splitting the miracle into three pieces: screen, back cover, and battery. The screen and back cover were easy enough to locate; however, the battery eluded me for a long time. It must have been a spectacle because a small boy stopped his bike to watch the gaijin ramble through the bushes on the side of the road looking for a battery. Once the phone was pieced together with prayers and a hope, I continued on my way.

The GPS was not alright. My newly adhered phone could not find itself on the face of the Earth with any accuracy. I scootered around the neighborhood for a good while looking for any semblance of the fuzzy photo pictured on the website and my previous perusal of Google maps. Finally, I found a house in the general area that boasted a "Pakira Guesthouse" sign.

Muttering under my breath, I approached.

I knocked. No answer.

I rang the doorbell, but no corresponding sound jangled inside.

I tried the latch. It was open. I thought I was acting a bit creepy, but there weren't many options.

I poked my head in the door and asked in fledgling Japanese, "Watashi wa Katelin Robbins des. Air BnB des ka?"

Thankfully, the wonderful host made me feel welcome and at home, since I was in the correct location.

I gratefully dropped my bag and took a nap. You don't really need to know how the night went...

Location: ?, Ishigaki

Time: Butt-crack of Dawn, May 14th

It was raining buckets, and I was about to be a drenched puppy on a scooter. Oh, did I mention I was lost? A drive that should have taken me 40 minutes took 90 because of wrong turns and a still wonky GPS. 

Just in case you were wondering, the spectacle of Pre-race scootering was delightful indeed. I purchased two 400yen raincoats and put them both over my body and backpack keeping me relatively dry as the rain decreased to a drizzle. I pulled up to the starting line with 20 minutes to spare. Throwing myself together during the opening ceremony may have influenced my mental preparedness, but in the end, it worked out.

Location: ISHIGAKI ULTRAMARATHON COURSE, Ishigaki

Time: 7:00am-2:00pm, May 14th

By the time the race began, the sky was only spitting at us with several seconds between each flying loogie.  I love being surrounded by fellow runners at the beginning of a race. It brings a sense of comradery and "We all signed up for this! The pain is gonna be fun!" general ideas. 

My race strategy included the quintessential Ultramarathon newbie advice: walk the hills you when can't see the top. My other goal included having fun with 60 km. The GPS of my Garmin watch began the countdown, and I began the run. 

The day was gorgeously cloudy and dry with a cool breeze drifting in from the sea.

At the half way point, you could stop and take a selfie with the lighthouse!

The scenery and artwork we passed were great for distracting runners from their burning legs.

Pretty. Ain't it though.

At times, I was completely alone. This worried me a little, but it made me go faster to catch up and make sure I didn't get lost... you know how that goes. Fortunately, I didn't make any wrong turns as the course was marked so clearly a blind man would know his way.

As the race went on, I discovered something interesting. My GPS watch was off by an increasing amount. Notice the lack of selfies and other pictures. As I approached 29 miles on my watch and 42 km on the course, I began to be a little wary. I reached the complete 37miles or 60km with 5km to go. Admittedly, my brain wanted to give up. That said, I remembered an article I read on ultra marathoners that stated the runners who embrace the pain realizing it will end tend to fare better than those who dread every moment. So I embraced the pain monster and pushed through the final three miles.

The finish line lay along the side of a soccer field in use by local teams. Bedraggled and very pretty as seen by the above selfies, I achieved the pinnacle of success: Cute men nodded, cheered and winked at me in the last moments of an ultra marathon.

As I crossed the finish line with a time of 6:58:03 and a supposed distance of 40.34 miles according to my GPS watch, a small bottle on a ribbon was placed over my head like a medal. Come to find out, it was an Ishigaki brand of Amawari (Japanese traditional alcohol). Yes. You complete an ultra, you need a drink.

Showered and ready to get on a plane, I scootered the long way around the island enjoying the sunlight, scenery, and people. I dropped off the scooter, took a silent cab (not all Japanese cabbies are tour guides), and hopped a plane to Okinawa with the last view of the setting sun through the airport window.

I ran that mountain BTW.

I'll let you know how the Amawari tastes once the results are published! 

Ready for the next one? YA MAN!