5:03:14 (AKA "It's Alaska, People!")

Last weekend, i completed the Anchorage Mayor's Marathon in 5:03:14.

There was nothing particularly special about this race that called out to me.  It just happened to fall on a day that worked perfectly. I’m always on the lookout for a good Saturday marathon, since almost all of them run on Sundays. It's probably just me, but i feel that Saturday is more conducive to travel overall.  I do wish they had timed it for the evening, to celebrate/experience the "midnight sun" on the summer solstice, but i'm not one of the organizers.  

Photo credit: Gianina Chong

My time was (as seems to be the theme over the past 2 years) nothing special.  Perhaps i could have finished sub-5 (which i consider to be the minimum requirement to not hang my head in shame), but throughout the race i reminded myself that I AM NOT IN TIPTOP SHAPE and never tried to push too hard.  This was good AND bad: despite finishing with a time that results in me hanging my head in shame, i still feel like i finished pretty strong.  Let me explain.  

Even though i didn't have a "gameplan" like the pros, i had come up with a "loose strategy" based on the elevation chart: take it relatively easy until mile 17 (basically to "get over the hill"), and then open up for the last 9 miles. In this, i think i did a decent job, not running any particular target pace, going "by feel" (easy at the first 17 and hard-ish at the last 9), and deciding what to do depending on what the course presented.  

Elevation chart

I mostly stuck to my tried-and-true run-walk-run ratio of 3-minutes-to-1.  HOWEVER, if it was a tough uphill, i would slow down to a walk, and if it was a decent downhill, i would do a fast jog, regardless of what my ratio called for. 

Enjoying one of the downhills.
Photo credit: Gianina Chong

In the end, i conserved enough stamina to do my running intervals at 9:00 to 9:30 when i finally let loose.  This resulted in a negative split.  If i may toot my own horn, i am somewhat proud of that, since it indicated that i sped up while every else was slowing down.  You can see that in how my "place" got better as time went by.  I was in 638th out of 742 around six miles in, but finished 473rd.  So, i outran 154 runners who were ahead of me by the halfway mark.  

"Placing."

I honestly felt strong for most of the race.  More significantly, AFTER the run: i haven't experienced as much soreness as i have in the past.  Since my overarching goal is to keep healthy while running marathons indefinitely, it's probably ok that i didn't push myself too hard.    

Some other things that may have contributed to how good i feel after this race (documented for future reference, in no particular order): 

1. Gu up every 30 minutes.  I went through 10 gel packets. 

2. Drink water when i felt even remotely thirsty AND at every mile.  I ended up finishing my entire 2 L bladder, running empty only when i was half a mile from the finish.  I urinated once, around mile 9. 

3.  I immediately ate a huge piece of loaded focaccia (the equivalent of a small pizza) almost immediately after crossing the finish line.  

4.  I wore compression socks after the race.  

Finishing strong and feeling good after the race may be an accomplishment in and of itself, even if i do have to hang my head in shame.   Now, if only i can get a faster finishing time... 

All-in-all, i'm happy with my fitness journey over the past 12 months. I've made steady gains since i started training with a heart rate monitor. The latest piece i've added to the puzzle is calculating my training zones based on my heart rate reserve, using my ACTUAL maximum heart rate (around 184) instead of my calculated max of 173. When running, i FEEL like my cardiovascular fitness has improved. More importantly, the metric i use (average HR vis-a-vis average pace during an easy run) has also shown objective improvement.  If i continue to train this way and apply the racing lessons i continue to learn, maybe i'll be able to hold my head up high again one day. 

Feeling good.
Photo credit: Gianina Chong

RACE NOTES 

1.  The expo was straightforward, really no vendors except for a local running store. HOWEVER, they had a Qdoba stall handing out free chips and salsa, and another stall where they had a wall of names.  This latter stall gave out "free" shades and gaiters. 

There i am.
Photo credit: Gianina Chong

2.  Weather on race day was less than ideal. It started out in the mid 50s and ended up in the low 70s. Considering the location, i expected it to be cooler, but it IS summer, and it WAS basically the longest day of the year (around 16 hours of sunlight). Thankfully, there was plenty of shade on the course to keep one cool.  

Mid-50s and sunny.
Photo credit: Gianina Chong

3.  Small races are really a pleasant experience. There were just over 700 marathon runners. Since the field was so sparse, Gianina and i were able to leave our Airbnb around 45 minutes prior to the race start, get to the site, park, and mosey on over to the start line with plenty of time to spare. In fact, she stayed with me all the way until the race actually started.  Unfortunately, because of the narrowness of some of the running paths, there was quite the crowd to navigate through for the first 2 miles or so. It eventually thinned out enough that i could run-walk-run most of it without fear of being run over. 

Photo credit for the above: Gianina Chong

4.  The course - while pleasant enough - wasn't as picturesque as i expected/wanted it to be.  Even though we ran the first part on the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail which nominally has a view of coastline, you couldn't really get that view unless you wanted to walk off the trail a bit.  There were some gorgeous views of the mountains, especially when running through the city and there weren't as many trees in the way.  A few years ago, they had to stop the race for several minutes because a bear was blocking the path.  I was looking forward to a similar experience, but unfortunately the closest thing i had to a wildlife encounter was spotting a moose standing 200 yards off to the side.  Overall the course wasn't super difficult, but it seemed decently hilly, especially leading up to mile 17 and then at the finish line.  There was a gravelly area from miles 15 to 17, but nothing that my road shoes (Nike Vomero 17s) couldn't handle.  

Squint and you'll see the moose.

A view of the city and the coastline.

Mountains in the distance.

5.  The aid stations seemed well-stocked but i didn't really partake, except for a few cups of water here-and-there.  Someone was handing out beers at mile 21.  I believe there were an ample amount of porta-potties, but we were actually ENCOURAGED to use the woods ("It's Alaska, people!") for bodily functions.

6.  There was no organized entertainment and almost no spectators.  Not an issue for me. 

7.  The post-race experience also had zero fanfare.  Cross the finish line and collect your medal.  They were giving out "free" food (there were grilled cheese sandwiches and chips with salsa) and you could also wait in line to get your "free" beer.  I did not partake.  Because the event was so small (?!), Gianina was able to meet me at the finish line, give me the aforementioned loaded foccacia bread, and help me walk to the car that was parked about a block away.  Small races FTW!  

Photo credit: Gianina Chong

Photo credit: Gianina Chong

I kind of enjoyed this one, mainly due to the timing and small size.  I also thought Anchorage was a pleasant place to visit, as long as one doesn't overstay their welcome.  However, with the course overall  being meh and the amount of hassle it took to get there, i would not run it again. 

Beer flight + fried halibut and chips at 49th State Brewing.

With a year of heart-rate-zone-training under my belt, and more experience with proper hydration, nutrition, and recovery... let's see how i do at this year's CIM. 

5:07:15

Last weekend, i finished the LA Marathon in 5:07:15.  

Off by a second?! I'll acknowledge the slower time.

After my troubles with Long Covid, i was really hoping for a "triumphant return to marathoning" by at least finishing less than 5:00.  Such was not to be.  Maybe i've undergone some actual permanent physiologic changes.  Maybe i'm just getting old.  Whatever it is, i don't like it, and i hope i can train my way out of it; to wit, i will focus on strength and proper running form for the next cycle.  

On a positive note, i was able to achieve a negative split.  At mile 13, my watch reported that my half marathon split was in the vicinity of 2:35-ish.  I had an inkling (delusion!) that i could run the next half in around 2:20, so i dialed up the pace for my run intervals.  I felt like i was doing generally okay until mile 20 or so, when my quads started complaining.  Around mile 25, while speeding up for my finishing kick, both my legs just completely cramped up.  At least in contrast to CIM 2022, when i had to stop moving altogether, i merely slowed down to a walk for around 2 minutes and then gingerly started jogging.  I was never able to get a good finishing kick, but at least finished the race "running."   My second half was completed in roughly 2:32-ish.  Not much of a negative split, but i'll still take it.    

I wonder if i just went out too slow.  My cramping at the end would seem to imply otherwise, but i think there may have been another, more sinister reason for that.   

In all honesty, i feel like i haven't learned to properly hydrate for marathons.  After plenty of hemming and hawing on race week, i somehow convinced myself that my 1.5 L Camelbak would provide enough hydration.  Unfortunately, it felt warmer than the weather report indicated  (more on this later), and i chugged on that thing more than i usually do.  I also didn't take advantage of the aid stations, only taking water from them about halfway in.  Well, i RAN OUT of water around mile 22.  Considering that i never needed to pee on the course, i was probably running pretty dehydrated.  Even though i didn't necessarily run out of water at that race, my most recent CIM finish was also marred by cramping at the end, which i believe was also driven by dehydration.  I need to get better at this.  Maybe if i had hydrated better and gone out faster, maybe... maybe...  Bah. 

(On another note, i wonder how much time i wasted just stopping to take pictures along the way.  Still, i didn't go all the way to Los Angeles to just run through the city and ignore my surroundings.  And it wasn't really that many selfies.)  

Chinatown.

City Hall.

An entrance to Echo Park.

A fountain at Echo Park.

The Dolby Theater.

The Chinese Theater.

Rodeo Drive.

What's done is done.  Nothing to do but learn the lessons, adjust, and move on.  

RACE NOTES: 

1. Upon arrival at Dodger Stadium two days before the race, while there were a few volunteers motioning us in the right direction, there were no actual signs indicating "Expo This Way." It seemed like anyone's guess as to where they should park or in which way they should actually head. I ended up parking BEHIND the expo, basically going in through the exit, and having to walk all the way through the event to the entrance at the other end just to get my bib. The exhibitors themselves were the usual assortment of vendors. There was a small wall of names. In sum, i would say that it was a bad experience just because of the lack of proper directions.

There i am!

2.  Despite the organizers' admonition to arrive at the start at 5:30 AM, we ended up LEAVING our  Airbnb (around 5 miles away) at that time.  We took I-5 into Dodger Stadium (traffic was horrendous at the exit), and i was dropped off with the other runners at around 6:30 AM.  One cannot overstate how bad LA traffic can be.  A friend of mine availed of the shuttle from Century City to the starting line (roughly 16 miles), and the trip took at least an hour.  At least there was an ample amount of porta-potties at the start, so it took me only 20 minutes to use one.  I was still able to get to the corral by 7 AM.  (On a side note, i was assigned to Corral "Open" but seemed to accidentally wander into Corral E).  

At the runners' drop-off point.

At the runners' drop-off point. 

Enough porta-potties at the start. I got in and out in around 20 minutes.

About to cross the starting line.

It begins.

3.  The weather wasn't too bad.  It started out in the low 50s and ended up in the mid 60s.  HOWEVER, it was not cloudy on the course at all, so i felt like i was being slowly baked by the sun for at least half of the race.  Perfect racing weather is really somewhere between 40 and 50 degrees.  In fact, note to future self: if the temperature is projected to go above 60 degrees during the race: BRING THE BIGGER CAMELBAK.  

4.  This is probably the smallest "big" race i've run, with just over 20,000 runners in total.  That being said, I still always felt like i was running in a crowd and had to do quite a bit of lateral movement to avoid people during my run-walk-run cycles.  My Garmin reports that i ran a total of 26.7 miles.  Small races FTW.   

Behold the sea of humanity.

Behold the sea of humanity.

5.  I was frankly quite underwhelmed by the course.  It's billed as running through historic neighborhoods, but i personally felt that it was more "history-adjacent."  For example, we did not run through Olvera Street and then really just ran through the the edges of Chinatown and Little Tokyo.  On the flipside, we did run by City Hall and through Hollywood Boulevard.  It would have been nice to go to Santa Monica, but they changed the course a few years ago.  Many of the roads also seemed to be in a state of disrepair.  Obviously it can be a dangerous to run on uneven and potholed pavement, and one really needed to pay attention to where their next step was going to land.  The course was decently hilly IMHO, and basically ends with a little incline close to the finish line.  

The official elevation chart.

Source: https://www.mccourtfoundation.org/event/los-angeles-marathon/distances-courses/

6.  There was an ample amount of aid stations, spaced out roughly every mile or so.  I believe there were porta-potties at all of them, but the lines seemed too long for my taste, at least until around mile 16 or so when (presumably) people were starting to get dehydrated.   I also quite enjoyed the on-course entertainment, and i really appreciate those folks coming out to keep the runners entertained and motivated.  Even the religious proselytizers (maybe they thought they were doing us a favor because none of us were in church on a Sunday morning) were entertaining. 

7.  The post-race experience was quite disorganized.  After getting through the chute, it looked like there were a few paths leading to the festivities, but they were completely clogged with spectators.  There was also no easy way to reunite with your loved ones (no alphabetically-arranged "family reunion" areas like New York or Chicago), unless you had a predetermined meeting spot already planned out.  Since cell signals tend to be spotty at these mega-events, that is a potential disaster.  

I'm sorry to say that i wasn't impressed.  The pre- and post-race experiences were badly organized and the course was just meh.  Maybe i'm just salty because i missed my target time, but i would not run it again. 

Next, Anchorage. 

Enjoying a post-race Shakey's pizza!

2023: Long COVID?

TRIGGER WARNING: In this post, i talk about COVID and its effects on my personal physical fitness.  The effects of the disease can be considerably worse and i do not mean to make light of it at all.  If the reader feels that i am too glib about the disease and don't understand how it can destroy lives, i respectfully request that you go f__k yourself and go someplace else.  

Anywho-  

Despite coming up with an interesting hypothesis for my disappointing finish at the 2022 CIM, there was one detail that i failed to mention completely.  

The day after the race, Gianina and Adrian tested positive for COVID.  Since i was asymptomatic, i opted not to test at the time.  However, after developing the sniffles a few days later, i swabbed myself and came back positive as well.  Despite all my rationalizing about wearing a jacket, etc. perhaps my subpar performance during the CIM was REALLY indicative of the fact that i was actually sick with COVID.  There's no way to know for sure.  

My slow finish at Tokyo was not really a barometer of anything, since i that was the plan to begin with.  What was strange to me was that - at least based on my Garmin watch and app - my VO2 Max dropped by 10% between CIM and Tokyo.  I had not backed down on my volume or intensity to any significant degree, so this was really mysterious.  

(There was a side issue of frozen shoulder requiring a shot of steroids, but i can't see what that had to do with anything.)  

Truthfully, even without my watch's measurements, i had FELT my VO2 Max drop.  Throughout the first half of 2023, despite all my training, climbing up a flight of stairs gave me palpitations.  

Palpitations.  After ONE FLIGHT OF STAIRS.  I mean, i'm no Dean Karnazes, but i'm a F*#$!%@ marathon runner for crying out loud.  A flight of stairs should not even register.  

So then i went for a treadmill exercise test with my cardiologist... 

...and passed with flying colors.  

I tried inhalers (which i prescribe to my patients all day every day), with no relief.  

It made absolutely no sense.    

Eventually, around June of 2023, the gears clicked into place.  Decreased exercise performance? Palpitations climbing up stairs, with no clear cardiac or pulmonary cause?  Persisting months after a confirmed COVID infection?  This sounded familiar.  In fact, i had advised many of my own patients about this.  It seemed that i had contracted the near-mythical "Long COVID."

No one understands what Long COVID really is.  It has a myriad of manifestations, but as far as my particular symptom of exercise intolerance, i did find data showing that victims on the average develop a 10% drop in VO2 Max (such a coincidence that that's how much i dropped by), with a physiologic profile and looks just like deconditioning (i.e. being out-of-shape).   Unfortunately, since no knows WHAT IT IS, no one knows HOW TO TREAT IT, either.  Argh!  

Instead of searching randomly for a miracle cure, i decided to apply what i know.  

How do we treat deconditioning?  With regular exercise.  

How to we improve VO2 Max?  With high-intensity intervals.  

So i procured a chest strap heart rate monitor (i had been relying on wrist monitors built-in to my watch all these years, which are not as accurate) and now concentrate on staying in "Zone 2" for most of my runs.  The point is to build up endurance without stressing the system.  I've been training this way for about 8 months, and it's been... eye-opening. 

First of all, my Zone 2 is a ridiculously low heart rate, to the tune of somewhere between 130 and 140 beats per minute.  In order to stay in this zone for the duration of the workout, my "run" is barely faster than my walking pace, clocking in at around 15 minutes per mile, or 4 miles per hour.  On the flip side, i feel like i can maintain that level of exertion for a looong period of time without expending my energy reserves.  In fact, even if i get a 90 minute workout in at 5 in the morning, i still feel like i have enough energy for the rest of the day.  

After 4 months or so of Zone 2 base-building, i finally started training for my next marathon.  I began to incorporate some hill work and picked up the pace.  As of today, i feel i'm able to run faster with the same heart rate compared to the beginning of this whole exercise.  Whether it's an effect of my training, or just me naturally getting over the Long COVID is unclear.  

I feel like the true benefit of all this Zone 2 running is that it's taught me how to recover properly.  My slow runs are run at an appropriately slow pace so as to prevent damage from accumulating between hard workouts, and i am not as achy and tired as i normally am at this phase of marathon training.  A completely unexpected outcome of this is that i can now run continuously for hours at a time, as long as i take it easy.  I still feel like the run-walk-run method is the key to running longevity, but at least now i have another tool in my kit. 

This is a work in progress.  I'm in this for the very long haul, and hopefully the changes i've instituted are able to keep me healthy in the future.  Only time will tell.  

Onward to LA! 

5:33:06 (AKA A Run-Walk-Run Tour of Tokyo)

Last week, i finished the Tokyo Marathon in 5:33:06.  Contrary to what one would think, i am perfectly okay with my time.  

I was actually supposed to run Tokyo back in 2020.   For obvious reasons that event was cancelled and i deferred my entry to this year.  An important logistical nuance is that Adrian was in elementary school back then and relatively easy to pull out of his classes for a week.  Now that he's in high school, that is practically impossible to do.  Of course, Gianina and i couldn't simply take off and leave our son to fend for himself halfway around the globe.  Therefore, i would have to go to Japan alone.  

There was nothing necessarily wrong about the solo trip, after all, i had done it before.  However, Santa Rosa is close to home and - even if something had gone catastrophically wrong - Gianina could have driven over at any time to rescue me from harm.  There is absolutely no way she can do that if i am 5000 miles and an ocean away, so i would essentially be operating without a safety net.  As soon as we realized that i would have to go by myself, we agreed that my focus should be to race in such a way that there would be zero chance of injury.  Hence, a deliberately slow pace.  I checked the cutoff time: seven hours after the gun.  Excellent, a 15-minute-per-mile pace should be perfect.  

It also occurred to me that the race was in Tokyo, which as the late great Anthony Bourdain pointed out, is "one of the most fascinating and deeply enjoyable places to visit."  Japan itself has been closed to tourists for the past two years, and just opened up.  Running 26.2 miles through this city is a privilege that not everyone gets to do in their lifetime.  It's an experience to be savored, not merely survived.  

Almost from the get-go, i flipped my Garmin's screen to the interval timer and pointedly ignored my pace.  I ran by feel - a relaxed jog for 3 minutes, then a leisurely walk for one, walking through all the aid stations, DRINKING 2-3 cups at each aid station, and stopping for selfies and taking videos whenever the opportunity presented itself.  I also planned to call home and livestream the end of my race with my family.  At one point i saw the sweepers, but this was on an out-and-back; they were MILES behind me.

Mile splits.

The sweepers.

I am happy to report that i successfully executed my plan.  Honestly, i actually finished FASTER than i wanted, averaging around 12:30-ish minutes per mile.  BUT i never got close to bonking.  AND i crossed the finish line in decent shape and made my way back to the hotel tired but not terribly sore.  AND i was able to get through the next day with some achiness but nothing debilitating.   

Right before crossing the finish line.  Still fresh. 

RACE NOTES: 

1.  Packet pickup was horrendous.  Believing that immediately after they opened on the first day would present the thinnest crowd, that is exactly when i went to the expo.  Was i ever wrong.  After getting off the train and walking over to the entrance of the convention center, i was greeted with a long snaking line akin to one you'd find at a Disney amusement park.  At least it moved along steadily.  Ultimately, a volunteer confirmed my identity and  "locked" my profile in the health app, at which point i had to LINE UP AGAIN (!) to get my actual bib.  

Just getting in to the Bigh Sight convention center was a chore.

More lines...

Although there were a total of 21 booths distributing the packets, it seemed that only 6 of those were open to foreigners (or at least that's what it looked like to me).  The first 15 were devoid of any significant queues.  Look, i understand servicing your nation's citizens first, but i feel like there should be some flexibility in the matter.  If the first 15 booths have virtually no one in line while there are thousands lined up at the remaining six... maybe they can pick up some of the slack.  Meh.  After 30 or so minutes i finally got my packet.  The crowd thinned out quite a bit after that, and i was able to wander around the expo.  There were multiple vendors on site and some "photo-op" areas.  I managed to get some freebies but there was nothing super special.  

The expo itself.

Hunting for free stuff.

2.  It's quite simple to get a decent breakfast on race morning.  Since the gun was scheduled to go off at 9:15 AM, i got up at six, with a plan to leave the hotel at around 7.  There are 24-hour convenience stores all over the place with good food options.  I unfortunately made a near-catastrophic mistake that morning: forgetting that one should never try anything new on race day, i consumed the Pocari Sweat "ice slurry" that they gave away at the expo.  Within half an hour, i felt flushed and developed palpitations and restlessness.  I thought i was having a panic attack (which has never happened before).  I still don't know what exactly was in that stuff.  Even though the ingredients don't list it, i suspect that it contained niacin or something similar that causes flushing.  I'm glad it wore off in another 30 minutes.  

A convenience store breakfast.

Ready to go.

3.  Getting to the race location was easy.  Thanks to Tokyo's extensive rail system, you can get to the starting line - the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building - from basically anywhere via train.  The race organizers were also considerate enough to provide 24-hour-unlimited subway passes to the runners.  Come race morning, i studied the route, made note of alternatives, and took copious screenshots in case i lost internet access.  I soon learned that i needn't have worried: nearly all the runners were taking the trains, and the only thing i had to do was follow the crowds to get to the start.  

The official 24-hour subway pass.

Basically everyone on the train was headed to the race.

From the train station, making my way to the my gate took roughly another 10 minutes.  Then i had to clear "security" - in quotes because they didn't really check much... just asked me if i had a bottle in my bag and trusted me when i said no.  They also checked on the health app if i had reported two negative COVID tests (although there was no way for them to verify the self-reported results).  Then it was a lot of walking around until i got to my actual corral.  It was all well-organized.  I don't know if there were enough porta-potties at the start, but the lines were looong, and i'm glad i didn't have to go.  In fact, despite the admonition from the organizers to not use public bathrooms at the train station, etc., i did see plenty of people lined up for those before i even entered the runners' area.  There was some water available at the corrals.  

The line to go through security.

Drinks and candy at the corral.

Another admonition - to not change clothes in public, was similarly ignored.  I saw plenty of people on the sidewalk doing just that.  And it wasn't necessarily foreigners; it appeared that locals were doing it too (or maybe they were foreigners of Japanese descent, or maybe i'm just racist and can't tell, or maybe i'm NOT racist because i can't tell).  

4.  The weather can apparently be finicky, but on that morning it was a perfect 40-50 degrees and overcast.  The forecast predicted 30% chance of precipitation, to start late in the afternoon after the race ended.  

Trudging to the start line.  That guy doesn't seem cold at all.

5.  The field was HUGE.  The official report from the organizers pegged the number of runners at around 38,000.  Smaller than the other "bigs" that i've run, but still A LOT.  It always felt like i was running with a crowd.  The mass of people presents a particular problem with my chosen run-walk-run method: i have to make my way to the side every time i slow down to walk, but on the other hand i have to weave in-and-out of traffic when i speed up again and pass some slower runners.  This is not an issue with small events.  I think i ended up running 27 miles because of all this lateral movement.

Ready, set...

Go!

So. Many. People. 

Crowds everywhere.

The official runners handbook instructed us not to discard any articles of clothing at any point.  Same with the other warnings/requests/instructions, this was not universally followed.  I saw plenty of discarded pieces at the starting line.  It seemed orderly, though.  

6.  The course consists of multiple "out-and-backs" through various Tokyo neighborhoods.  Because of this, the cityscape isn't as varied as New York (which runs through all five boroughs), but it was pretty.  The course is advertised as one that "symbolizes the past, present and the future of Tokyo."  There were plenty of old buildings, some shrines and temples, and some other notable landmarks.  In terms of difficulty, it all felt pretty flat to me.  The last kilometer is nice to run... a narrowish path on a cobblestone-y street lined by trees and spectators cheering you on.  The race ended close to the Imperial Palace.  I don't think i was paying attention, because i didn't see it.  

I had previously planned on sneaking off the race course to buy souvenirs or snacks.  Unfortunately all the possible points of exit were closed off by security tape.  While i felt like i could still have snuck out through a gap (or perhaps even just broken the flimsy tape), buying a Kitkat wasn't worth a DQ/DNF.  

The Kaminarimon Gate leading to Senso-ji Temple. 

The Tokyo Sky Tree and the Asahi Beer Hall with the "Golden Poo."

The Tomioka Hachiman Shrine.

On the Kuramae Bridge over the Sumida River. 

Tokyo Tower.

The Sangedatsumon Gate to the Zojoji Temple.

7. There were plenty of spectators along the course, and i don't recall it ever feeling "empty." It definitely wasn't a constant wall of sound like New York, but there was always someone cheering. While loud enough, it was still somehow subdued and... polite. There was no lack of entertainment, either. Every two miles or so there was someone singing or dancing.

Hula dancers in the distance.

Singing duo.

A singing group.

Cheerdancers.

And more cheerdancers.

8. There were ample aid stations. Beginning at the fifth kilometer, there was an aid station every two and three kilometers until the end. This is not the way i normally hydrate, but i made do. There was significant chaos at the first station as people figured out the layout. In theory you were supposed to go to the table whose number corresponded to the last number on your bib (being 76858, i was supposed to go to table "7-8"). The Pocari Sweat (electrolyte drink) stations were laid out before the water stations. By the second station we had it figured out and so it was less chaotic. There was food somewhere, but i didn't partake. It seemed like there were porta-potties at each aid station, but there was always a long line to use them.  Thankfully, despite my aggressive hydration strategy, i never needed to go to the toilet.  In retrospect, i was probably running dehydrated.   

Who is Pocari?  Why is his sweat so delicious? 

These aid/hydration stations were ESSENTIAL, since the race had a "no bottles" policy.  Specifically, "absolutely no canteens, water bottles, plastic bottles, cans, and other such containers are allowed."  I'm not clear as to the rationale behind this.  They don't want anyone to litter?  They want to push their own hydration products?  They don't want the course to get wet?  I saw at least one person using a hydration pack; good for her that it didn't get confiscated, but i personally wasn't willing to take that gamble.  

9.  There was no post-race experience to speak of.  I crossed the finish line and kept walking. Eventually i was handed a finisher's medal.  Someone took my photo.  A short distance later, i was given a mylar blanket, and then a (finisher's?) robe.  A little more walking, and i was in front of Tokyo station.  I just crossed the street from there and headed back to my hotel.  If they had been present, it would have been easy to meet up with my family.  

Thanks a lot, guy whose arm is covering my face.

Sharing the moment.

Tokyo Station in the background.

So... Tokyo 2023 is now in the books.  I'm still considering when/where i want to race next, but i think i'll take a little hiatus over the next few months.  Being in constant state of training has worn me out a bit.  

This race was my third "marathon major."  I am still undecided if i want to do to all six; honestly the large crowds are just exhausting.  In the end, i probably will... but not in the foreseeable future. 

 

Honestly though, i rather enjoyed just plodding along for this race.  I feel that i should follow this new philosophy for future international races: go slow and treat the journey as the destination.  After all, if i sat on a plane for 11 hours just to run 26.2 miles, then i should take all the time i need to enjoy racing the distance.  

The shirt is from 2020, i wasn't willing to buy a new one for this year...
They also gave out the 2020 medal (finally).

Updated 3/23/2023 to include Marathon Finisher's Certificate.