Journey to Japan: Raceday

Day 3

Waking up a bit early, slightly restless night due to a mix of anticipation and nervousness. For the past week, I didn’t run at all and I wasn’t sure how well my legs were feeling now. Skipping breakfast at the hotel, I almost certainly would have eaten to much of the wrong things there, I had a couple of oatmeal bars from home, topped up with Onigiris from the trainstation. Already walking to the trainstation, we started to see more and more runners and once being on the train to the stadium, there were a lot of us runners.

After having a bit of a look around, there was not enough time for a proper warmup, so as usual, the first kilometers would have to stand in for that after all. At this point, running a halfmarathon is for me still much more about being able to finish the run and less about improving my times. Also this half marathon had a much shorter cutoff time than my previous ones at about 2.5 hrs.

Having a look around, I also started to realize that this running event was much bigger than I anticipated with way more than 10.000 runners. And that I had quite a long way to walk towards my starting pen, further in the back of the field.

After lining up in the starting area, I noticed something that caught me off guard, it was quiet. Really quiet. This was my first run in Japan, and I hadn’t expected the atmosphere to feel so different from other races I’ve done. No loud music, no shouting, no nervous chatter echoing through the pens. The runners around me stood in calm silence, stretching, breathing, focusing. Even the spectators nearby spoke in hushed tones, as if not to disturb a shared moment of calm. It wasn’t tense, it was respectful. Like everyone was mentally preparing, giving space to themselves and to others. I hadn’t realized it before, but it made for a surprisingly powerful kind of pre-race energy.

The course itself had some unexpected highlights. Somewhere around the halfway point, I saw L cheering at the roadside, camera in hand, smiling and waving like a one-woman power station. That moment hit like a game checkpoint: I swear I ran a little lighter after seeing her.

I was feeling surprisingly fine up until kilometer 13. Then things started to get tougher. My legs stiffened, the sun felt a bit hotter, and walking breaks became more frequent. I was still okay, but now the checkpoint cut-off times were getting uncomfortably close.

The final kilometers were a mix of pushing through and counting steps between walking breaks. Around that point, I started seeing runners on the side of the course receiving medical attention, some collapsed, others clearly struggling. It was a sobering sight. But despite that, the course remained calm and orderly, thanks to the incredible organization. First responders moved swiftly on bicycles, and there were course marshals at every key point, always ready, always alert.

In the end, I made it, with a few precious minutes to spare. Relief washed over me as I crossed the line. Instead of a medal, we were handed a finisher’s towel, very Japanese, very practical, and honestly, I liked it. It felt more useful, more grounded.

Spectators had been lining the course almost the entire way. Every few meters someone shouted “gambatte!” or “fight-o!”, small but powerful words of encouragement that kept me moving. I clutched my towel like a trophy as we squeezed into the train back to Sendai Central. The train was packed with runners, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a scene that felt suspiciously like Tokyo rush hour. I really hoped I wasn’t the only one smelling like 21 kilometers of sweat and electrolytes.

Back at the hotel, I slipped into a hot bath, trying to calm my legs and an increasingly squeazy stomach. Still, tradition is tradition, so after a bit of resting, we went out for McDo, just like after the Singapore run. There's something oddly comforting about that post-race ritual.

Later, we went for another short walk under the city lights, letting the day fade out slowly. Now, it’s night as I’m writing these lines. Tomorrow, we pack up again, head to Matsushima, and maybe squeeze in a bit more culture before we leave Sendai.