Marathon running [in Japan] was seen as a worthy and admirable pursuit, embodying the discipline, effort and commitment the country valued and needed to get back on its feet after the devastation of the war. – Adharanand Finn
By Benji Durden
The trip to Japan is a marathon event itself. From the west coast it takes about ten hours and from the east coast at least six hours longer. When I arrived in Tokyo from Atlanta at 6:00 pm February 23, I was understandably very tired. Yet when Chris Stewart and I got off our flight from L.A. we had to put our fatigue behind us. At the arrival gate to greet us were two television crews and at least six constantly clicking photographers wanting interviews. Though these reporters asked some typically dumb questions – “Will you be able to break 2:09 next Sunday?” and “Will you win?” – they treated us with an air of respect I’ve seldom encountered in the USA.
In Japan, marathoners are true celebrities.
After our press conference, we went through immigration and customs. The officials didn’t delay us, so we were quickly ushered to a waiting cab for the one-hour trip from Narita to the Tokyo Palace Grand Hotel. Rush hour traffic caught us midtrip and slowed us to a 2.5-hour trip. The meter said 14000 yen (about $70) when we arrived. Chris and I were both glad the race was paying.
In the hotel lobby, the interviews were briefly repeated. I was then escorted to the press room. There they made pictures of my feet from the side and bottom. During this unusual photo session, I was asked if I would join Ian Thompson, just arriving, for a run in cold night rain. Ian must have had a diary to satisfy. Declining, I headed off to eat, joining Herm Atkins. We found the hotel buffet was still open. We nibbled a bit but around 10:00 gave in to our exhaustion and headed off to try to sleep.
The night was a battle. I declared a truce at 6:00 am and headed out to run. That run and all our runs that week were around the Imperial Palace moat. The moat was impressive. Nearly 70 meters deep to the water level, it was over 100 meters across and some 5000 meters around. The few entrances were huge gates carefully guarded by numerous patrols in full riot gear. Despite these fortifications, the Oriental beauty was spectacular. Gnarled pines partially hid the massive stone wall. In the moat, swans swam and colorful red-headed ducks. The massive gates and multi-storied buildings were reminiscent of Shogun.
Across a busy thoroughfare was the sharp contrast of modern embassies and government offices cluttered with complex radio, television and satellite antennas.
Forty-five minutes later I met Don Kardong, Herm and Judy Atkins leaving the hotel as I was going in. We agreed to meet for breakfast after their run and later do some shopping together. In the lobby, I was stopped for my morning interview (a daily event): “How far did you run, how do you feel, what will you do today, etc.”
More media sessions after breakfast devoured our morning, so it was after lunch before we headed shopping. We were escorted via subway to the Ginza area by Nobuo Murakami and Hideo Nakatani of Nike Japan. The Tokyo subway is very clean and easy to use. It really is the only practical way around town because of the heavy traffic. Most shops and every hotel have English maps of the system available, making it easier for foreign travelers to use. All stops have their names printed in English above the Japanese and if you look lost, someone always tries to help.
Nobuo and Hideo left us on our own in the Ginza area and headed to work. Since I had been to Tokyo in December, I knew a little about the shops in the area. I took the helm and led our little group down to the International Arcade. This I had discovered was a good area to buy watches, cameras, electronics for American power supplies and Japanese souvenirs at good discounts.
When we arrived, Herm – with Judy supervising – started pricing turntables. Don began checking specs and prices of microcassette recorders. I started looking at cameras and Casio watches.
After a brief hunt, I came upon a watch I loved at first sight, the new Casio CA-90. It had everything but the kitchen sink: an alarm, hourly chime, dual time, stopwatch, calculator and, best of all, a game vaguely similar to “Space-Invader.” I had to have the watch but already had a calculator watch. Not wanting to be redundant, I was forced first to fast hustle Don into buying my watch. Thus freed, I attacked the watch vendors full force for major haggling. The list price for the watch was 9800 yen (about $48). I asked for discount price – 8000 yen (about $39). I told them I had been quoted 7600 yen at the store across the street. They pulled out a calculator and made some furious calculations and offered to sell the watch for 7800 yen. I said I’d just go back across the street. Further calculations were rapidly made as I started to go. My bluff paid off and I bought the watch for 7600 yen (about $37).
Meanwhile, Don had been successful with his shopping and bought a very small, very nice microcassette recorder (watch yourself when you run with Don these days, you may be on candid microcassette). Herm and Judy had decided to wait to check prices in some other areas.
Shopping fever temporarily sated, we went off to sight-see in the growing darkness. Ginza at night is truly beautiful. Neon signs of every imaginable shape, size and color flash and battle for your attention. Sony, Cannon and Toyota signs throb beside pulsing Coke and McDonalds logos. In addition to English signs, Japanese characters glow like a modern art exhibit.
At 7:00 we met Nobuo, Hideo and two Japanese women, also of Nike Japan, at a pre-arranged corner and went off to a tempura restaurant. The seafood and vegetables deep fried in a golden batter was excellent, even the squid. Don and Herm reported the sake was equally good as well as strong. Fading fast, we headed back to the hotel to recover from a busy day.
The next morning as we were running around the moat, we heard an approaching figure yell “Elwood”. Sure enough, it was the “Blues Brother” himself, Gary Fanelli. Gary’s weird wit kept the Japanese reporters off balance all week. They never could figure out who “Elwood” and the “Blues Brothers” were. His tongue-in-cheek responses to interviews didn’t help much either. We barely knew what he was up to and we had been forewarned.
After the breakfast/interview session, Gary joined for another shopping safari. Coach Bill Squires and Randy Thomas had found a shop in the Akhabara district with good prices on electronic equipment. We discovered that Akhabara was an electronics heaven. Every shop overflowed with complex radios, stereos, video devices, etc. In Laox, the shop we were looking for, we found the prices were so compelling Don bought a Sansui stereo combo (tuner, amp, turntable and cassette recorder) listed in the USA for about $1200. He paid about $400. Herm bought a $200+ turntable for about $125. Gary and I kept our eyes closed and resisted temptation.
As we walked back to the subway station, we were discouraged by the cold wind and intermittent snow (it didn’t stick). None of us wanted to run a marathon in cold, windy conditions. Our daily attempts at optimism were not helped by the fact this weather repeated itself around race time every day.
The sun came out and warmed us that afternoon as we raced the Japanese joggers around the Imperial Palace, giving us hope of better temperatures ahead. The moat run was always crowded with old men, little girls and softball teams that usually gave us runs for our money. These same people would be plodding along at eight plus minute miles stateside, while here they obviously felt sub-sevens were mandatory.
Thursday, Don, Herm and Judy decided to take the train to Hakone, a mountain resort area, where they could get a good look at Mt. Fuji. I had been there in December and so decided to go shopping in the Ginza area again. Randy and Coach Squires – along with Cathy, the hotel harpist who also happened to be from Boston – were going to the Trywell tax free shop. Mr. Honda, one of the Japanese Athletic Federation members acting as our host, had arranged with the Trywell shop for them to receive a maximum discount. I decided to go along and see if I could find a good camera to buy.
Trywell turned out to be very small, perhaps 800 square feet. Yet they had a camera I wanted at an excellent price (an Olympus OM-10 with a 1.2 55 mm lens and manual adapter for about $290.00). Randy bought himself a stereo for around $400 that would be over $1000 in Boston. Coach Squires bought about a dozen battery-powered razors for gifts. Cathy just watched us spend our money.
I killed the rest of my day practicing my watch “Space-Invader” game. Don and I were competing for high score every afternoon, so I was using the time while he was gone to try to build an edge.
Don, Herm and Judy returned from their trip late that night. They had had a cold, somewhat miserable day. Early in the trip they had gotten lost because the signs at the station were only in Japanese. The station manager had helped them out with sign language at one spot. Later they were rescued by an American businessman who was living in the Hakone area. He drove them to some of the sites and invited them to lunch. During the course of the day, Don turned his head suddenly and the neck muscles, being tight from the cold, went into a deep spasm.
Friday morning it was obvious that Don’s neck pain was a serious problem. He had slept poorly and was unable to run that morning with us because of the pain. Coach Squires sought medical help for Don and it was promised to arrive that afternoon.
Later in the morning, Don did join us for a photo “running session” for the Japanese press. This amounted to all of the invited runners running several times towards a group of six of more photographers. After one round of shots, we were asked to run the other direction. Jerome Drayton complied too well; he kept on running and did not stop until he was back at the hotel. The rest of us spent another hour jogging towards the cameras or riding to places to jog in front of.
When I got back to the hotel, I joined Judy Atkins in another shopping trip. We had heard of a street/side walk sale in the Roppongi district. While the others rested, we froze to death to buy used kimonos and old pottery.
At 2:00, there was an official press conference at the hotel that all of the invited runners were to attend. Held in the top floor restaurant, the view was terrific and the conference was dull. The press interested centered around Ian Thompson, Rofolfo Gomez, Hiroshi Yuge and myself. We each in turn were asked about our level of fitness, how we planned to run the race, if we would win and who was our chief rival. Everyone present was asked to predict the winning time. The range was from 2:10 to 2:13. I expected 2:11 was as fast as we would go on the course if the wind kept up.
After the conference, Don, Herm and myself went to my room for a major watch ‘Space-Invader’ tournament. I remained the champ with a score in the high 14000’s. Don was closing fast in the low 14000’s. Herm was still trying to figure out the game.
Saturday morning, we were taken to the Tokyo Olympic Stadium. The 1964 Olympics had been held there and it was an impressive arena. We would start and finish on the new Chevron 440 surface. I found myself wishing we were running a track meet rather than a marathon.
We drove over the first and last 10 kilometers of the course in a bus to get a feel for the course. From the bus window it did not seem too tough.
After lunch we attended the opening ceremonies at the Palace Hotel. Virtually every dignitary took the opportunity to make a bilingual speech. Adrian Paulen, the IAAF president, even tried to make some coherent remarks. Like most runners, I have always thought of Paulen as the arch-villain of track and field who deprives us of making an honest living off running. What we saw when he gave his speech was a blind, senile man barely aware of what is going on around him. It seemed obvious to me his main objective was to die in power. He would never rock any established boats.
After the speeches, we were called to the stage to be introduced and applauded. This was followed by a “tea party” where very proper Japanese business men in expensive three piece suits asked us, shaggy haired runners in jeans, for our autographs. I found the situation to be quite amusing.
Sunday morning, we nervously boarded a bus at 10:00 and went to the stadium. To pass some of the two- hour wait and break some of the tension, Don, Herm, one of the translators and I played with my Olympic issue Frisbee on the infield. The photographers loved us. All our play had to eventually end though and around 11:15 we began our warmup rituals.
When we came to the line at 11:55, we were a small field, about 90. They sun was out and the temperature was about 50°F. We were given a 60 second count down by a man holding up numbered signs every 10 seconds.
The race started slowly (16:20 at 5K) but soon settled into 2:12 pace. A lone Japanese runner took off on his own but the real pack followed Herm and Randy. I tried to keep an eye on Gomez, who was drifting like a shark in the middle of the pack. The noise of the crowd made it difficult for me to relax and concentrate. The temperature began to drop as well as the sun went behind clouds. I spent the first part of the race apprehensive about the race as a result.
At the turn around (about 26K), Gomez began a move to the front. I responded and moved up with him. The pace still had a dozen or so runners in it, with Herm and Randy still sharing the lead. There were several Japanese runners in the pack that I didn’t know. At 29K, I decided to surge and see who I could shake loose as well as try and get my concentration to improve.
At 30K there was a “finish line” where most of those Japanese runners I didn’t know pulled out. Later we learned there had been a 30K race-in-the-race.
When I looked back at the following pack at 32K, only Gomez, Thomas, Tony Perrson and Mineteru Sakamoto remained. I eased back as Perrson surged to the front and tried to recover for the surge I expected any moment from Gomez. At 35K, it came. Gomez shifted into a sub-4:50 pace and promptly left us. As I brought up the rear, the pace strung out trying vainly to match Rodolfo’s speed. Perrson did the best, but was really only leaving us and not gaining on Gomez at all. At 36 1/2K, I caught Sakamoto as he began to tighten up. Briefly, I felt I was gaining on Thomas and Perrson until around 38K when my concentration broke to a painful set of blisters. Additionally, I was finding my right arm kept threatening to cramp up. (I later figured out this was probably due to my excessive “Space-Invader” activities.)
Gomez won easily by over a minute and the rest of us held our positions. The final times were:
Rodolfo Gomez 2:11:00
Tony Perrson 2:12:07
Randy Thomas 2:12:31
Benji Durden 2:13:07
Mineteru Sakamoto 2:13:22
Takehiko Kikuchi 2:14:24
Ian Thompson 2:14:39
Herm Atkins 2:15:13
Don, having never fully recovered from his neck spasm, finished well back as did Gary Fanelli. Gary confessed to not being at full fitness after the race.
The war behind us, we returned to the hotel to lick our wounds and dress for the victory party. At the Palace Hotel, a royal celebration had been prepared. Miss World and Miss Japan, dressed in expensive kimonos, presented us our awards. They also presented each of the invited runners with a commemorative happi coat and a digital Seiko watch, courtesy of the race sponsors.
After the awards ceremony, we were waited on by Japanese women in kimonos who served us boiled shrimp, skewers of beef, oysters, and sake from huge wooden barrels. We in turn mingled with the guests, signing autographs and having our pictures made. As the party warmed up, each country represented went to the stage and sang songs from home. All we knew of “Oh! Susanna”, to our chagrin, was the chorus line.
Eventually, the party ended.
Heading back to our rooms we were happy but sad; in the morning we knew we would be returning to the reality of solo long runs and media anonymity.
“Fantastic Story by Benji! Great to See American Success in Japan; so Different from the USA ,where marathoning is still lower tier Sport to American Media…” – Bill Rodgers