projectfuji

Usually I don’t sleep well before a race. In fact, I’ve run most of my best races on only a couple of hours of sleep, so I wasn’t too worried about not sleeping the night before the Fuji Mountain Race. This turned out to work in my favour, and I got at least 6 or so hours. I awoke to my alarm at 4:50am ready to go.

This was it! The day of Project Fuji had arrived. My dream of over 12 months ago was happening. It was actually happening. Yes, it was still cloudy, but there was no rain, no wind, and it was cool. Everything was playing into my favour. I could do this! I would do this!

Julia and I popped downstairs to catch the shuttle bus at 5:30am, and this was where our one and only hitch occured. Japanese efficiency had gotten the better of us! We were no more than 2 minutes late, but the bus had gone. They wait for no one. Luckily, we were early, and could either wait for the 6am bus (race start was 7am) or walk.

I didn’t fancy waiting around for 30 minutes, and figured a 20 minute brisk walk would prove a good warm up, so we elected to walk.

I wanted to arrive at the race precinct at 6am.

This would give me time to go to the toilet one more time (yes, I’d been my obligatory 3 times already!), down a sports drink and eat my power bar, then watch the opening ceremony and do my stretches, all working towards a 7am start. I wanted to soak this morning up in every way possible. I even took joy in the fact the port-a-loo was a Japanese style stand and squat port-a-loo! I’d never seen that before!

I said my goodbyes to Julia and lined up ready to race. Being an International participant, I was lucky enough to be lined up near the front in the first section just behind the elites. This was great for the pictures and the atmosphere.

It was a bit surreal when another International came up to me and said, “I think I saw your website.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, I was looking for information about this race and your site came up.”

That was kind of cool. And it made me think of everyone at home who’d supported me. It gave me a little encouragement.

That being said, I was starting to freak out as the countdown to the begining ticked onwards. Could I actually do this? I had vague ideas of what this race had in store for me, but really, it was not like I’d ever done this kinf of thing before. This race was going to be completely new for me. I had no idea how my body would stand up!

The opening ceremony went off, everyone screamed and shouted and revved everyone else up. The gun was fired, and we were off running!

I’d read that the pace of this race at the start was pretty frantic. It did not disappoint! And I quickly discovered that the negative to lining up near the front of a race like this was that a ton of people overtook me!

We headed down the main street of Fuji Yoshida. It was to be the only slight decline of the race, and it lasted until the first corner. Then, it was onwards and upwards. I’d heard that there was some relatively flat areas on this course over the first 7 or 8kms. But that was rubbish. For someone who knows flats, and knows them well, there was no flat in this race. It was all up, and ever so slightly, the gradient increased.

We made our way along paved road through to the outskirts of the city. I was pushing hard, pacing in at about 4:30min/kilometers, but people were still passing me. I had hoped to run a low 4 minute pace for the first 7 or 8kms, but it just wasn’t happening.

I kind of kept an eye on those passing me, making sure no Internationals were getting the jump on me.

A few had, early on, including the American who I’d been talking to earlier, but as we raced up towards the edge of the City, I re-passed him and a few others. With everyone passing me, it was the only positive I could draw on!

We entered the Fuji National Park area, still on paved road, but under the cover of trees now, and away from the streets. The cheering crowds thinned a little, but I must say, for the whole of this race, there were people along the way cheering – right to the top. Pretty cool!

The temperature was cool. This was great for me, who hadn’t run in humid or hot conditions in months. Things were going well! However, at about the 5km mark, I felt some real tightening of my glutes, quads and achilles. I think it was a combination of the stready incline, a less than idea morning meal, and the fact I was running on road with trail shoes. I kind of wondered at this point if I should have run in my road shoes, as most racers around me only had normal runners on.

I think it was at about the 6km mark that Julia suprised me on the sideline, cheering me on.

She’d managed to grab a taxi who was happy enough to drive her and another runner’s wife along the race line to the 5th station.

She snapped a few shots of me (which ended up not working for some reason) and gave me some much needed encouragement!

I pushed on, knowing that at some point we’d come to the start of the off-road section, and the steep incline (which I’d seen on previously recorded videos of the race) at which point many would slow to a hurried climb rather than running. I had had grand delusions of being able to run part of this initial climb section prior to the race. But now, all I was doing was desperately trying to make it to this section so that I could stop running! It was really hurting! I was doubting if I could really do this! Everything seemed to be siezing up. It was at this point that I realised that this was a real race, a real challenge, no easy walk in the park. Fuji was going to play its part in all of this. Fuji was going to make me work for this achievement.

I was just trying to hang on. It was so relentless, and fast! Some runners were starting to fall, already doing run and walk intervals to keep going. I was determined not to do that. I had to keep running. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I walked any of this road section.

I downed a gel to try and stave off the tightening glutes and quads. Indeed, I was getting worried at this point. What if something went on me? These muscles were hurting seriously! I’d never felt this pain. I pushed on, wondering where on earth the turn was into the torri gate and the steps. Would they ever come!

It did come, just in time, and those in front of me slowed to a hurried climb. I did the same, totally relieved.

I started coaching myself through this part of the race. Do as the Japanese do. If I did as they did, I’d make this.

I started pumping my legs, hard and fast.

I placed my hands on my quads and started pushing down using my arms as much as my legs to push me upwards.

I started to wonder at this point, would there be any switch backs. Other Mountains I’d run often had an up, then levelled out and switched back for a bit and then trailed up again. Surely this would be how Fuji worked?

Well, it didn’t. It was all up. Sure, there were switch backs, but they continued to climb. The only non-climbing bits were the very very short 20-40meter flat sections past the aid stations. A lot of people stopped at these stations for a rest and drink, but I had my back pack, so I just pushed on.

Others did this as well, and I found what the Japanese did was, they still ran through these small flat sections.

I at first thought that this was crazy as they weren’t long enough to bother with, but I kept getting overtaken, so after a few of these, I was again, copying the locals.

I ran when they did, and climbed when they did.

 

The 5th station came up just after 10kms.

That’s the point where they cut you off if you’re outside of the time requirements. I figured I was all good as I was well under 1hr 30min. I jogged my way through this section, spotting Julia and managing to take a quick detour to give her a kiss on the way through. It was quite emotional.

I was hurting, hurting bad, with only just half of this race done. But seeing Julia there supporting me, and knowing why I was doing this, it helped me keep on.

I could have perhaps taken the foot off the excellerator a bit, as I was ahead of the cut off, but I didn’t. I pushed on hard. I would give this my very best!

That being said, after the 5th station, with 5 more stations to go, things got really steep. It was no longer just steps. We were clawing our way up a mountain now, over molten rock, slippery gravel, up steps, around steps, dodging and weaving past those ahead of you. I was doubled over for the marotiy of the second half of this race. I pumped my arms, my hands on my thighs, and pushed those legs, one after the other. It was hard, and painful.

The clouds were gone, the sun was blasting, but thankfully, each time I started overheating, I seemed to ascend far enough for the temperature to drop.

It was a totally clear day. Fuji had shown itself in all its glory. While Julia was enjoying the views down below, I was looking only forward, at the runners shoes just ahead of me. That was how steep this was. I was bent over, my back almost at right angles, looking directrly at the runner’s shoes in front of me, and for the most part, that was all I concentrated on.

 

When the runner ahead of me slowed, I had to try and get around. Often I did, but it usually took a lot out of me, so I picked carefully when I would try to overtake.

People were still overtaking me, but I was now passing as many as those who were passing me. I was actually suprised at how much passing was going on in this section of the mountain as I’d been lead to believe that this was next to impossible. But it was sure happening. I was close enough to the front still for the mountain not to be too crowded.

As I neared the 6th station, I noted how slowly the killometers were ticking over. It was taking forever to tick one off. In fact, I looked at my pace at one point and was horrified to see that it was up to 20min/kms. This was through a very very steep section, and at a point where altitude was starting to play its part.

At one point, I remember thinking atlitude, what altitude? Only for altitude to hit me with some major dizzyness spells no more than ten minutes later. At some poinst along the trail, I remember concentrating really hard to remain on the path and not slide over the edge. Everything was becoming a bit wobbly! People were slipping and sliding around me, and I took stock now in my choice of shoes. The Salamons were holding up so well. I wasn’t slipping much at all. My ground strike was controlled and my feet protected. This decision was paying off, as was my backpack decision, as I was hammering through the water, and it wasn’t even an overly hot and humid day.

Because the cloud cover had dispersed, you could see the way to the top over the last 4 stations. This was kind of cool, and made for a great sight, but at the same time proved incredibly challenging when the peak did not seem to ever come any closer.

I plugged on, thinking very little about anything except where to put my hands and feet and how to stay close and follow the guy in front. I gained the 7th station, then what I thought was the 8th, but turned out to be the 7 and 1/2 station. That challenged me a little! As did the fact my pace was so slow. This was seriously tough going! With some quick calculations, I realised I wasn’t going to get 3hrs 30min. I held out for maybe a 3hr 30 something, but even that seemed unlikely. This was seriously tough. My body was screaming in pain, my head was swirling, and I was breathing like a freight train. It was everything just to keep going.

It was no longer a matter of finishing in a certain time, but more now simply a matter of finishing.

I forgot my time goals and focussed on completing this, as I realised now, there was no certaintly in getting to the top. Other runners were dropping out, some throwing up, others just plain shattered.

I followed the guy in front. I zoned out. I rounded the next corner, hit the 9th station and realised I only had 1km to go. But boy, that was the longest 1km of my life!

I pushed hard, but not too hard. I was now walking a fine line. This was something new to me. I’d never had to play it safe, but I was doing so right now. My muscles were cramping, my body giving out. I’d had 2 energy gels, and contemplated a 3rd, but I simply did not have enough energy to get the gel out of my backpack. That was how shattered I was!

I’d hoped Fuji would adequetly challenge me. I’d hoped that it would be as hard as all the fundrasing, the website design, the raffle ticket selling. I’d hoped the race itself would not be an anti-climax. Fuji was not disappointing. It was pushing me right to the edge, so much so that I felt on the verge of breaking into tears of pain as I rounded the last corner, but there was the torri, the finish line.

There it was.

It had snuck up on me, just as I’d wondered if there was anything left in me.

I pushed myself back into a jog, I raised my arms, I ran over that finish line as though I’d won the race.

I hadn’t of course.

I’d simply won my own personal battle. And Fuji had made it a battle worth fighting!

I was stuffed, emotionally, and physically. I was barely able to stand, so I kind of staggered around a bit. I smiled delriously. I stood tall. I thought about Christina and wondered if she was near me. I thought of Julia. I wanted to tell her I’d made it straight away. I thought about Evelyn back home. I wanted to tell her I’d done it. I’d lived up to my promise.

 

I’d thought about Christina a number of times as I ran, stagged, scrambled, and raced up Mt Fuji. She was never far from my mind. I simply hoped that I had done her proud. I had put something out into this world, in her name, worthy I hoped, of her. I’d done it!

I’d come in at 3hr 42mins, and I was more than happy with that, as I was with my position of 249th. Not bad for a first time, not bad at all!

Even with the strict qualifications to get into the race, only 57% of men and 40% of women were able to reach the summit within the time limits. Only 26 Internationals raced (due to withdrawals because of the Great Eastern Earthquake).  62% finished, of which I was one of them.

The hardest part of the race for me was actually the first 10kms. I hadn’t expected that! That run section was pure torture. It bit had nearly gotten the better of me. The middle section had proved exhilerating! And the final section had been truly traumatic, inspiring,  and truly brilliant all at one. What a race, what a project!

Thank you so much to everyone, for their interest, their support, and most importantly, their donations to Oxfam in Christina’s memory. Thank you so much to every single person who pitched in through this project. Too many names to mention here. However, a very special thank you must go to my mother and father in law, Evelyn and Victor, for their understanding and encouragement in doing this. Thank you to Mark, Evelyn, and Allan for all the fundraising and raffle ticket selling you did, and last but not least, a huge big thank you to Julia, who supported me in far too many ways to mention here.