Between a Track and a Hard Place — Cross-Country Running in Japan

Miu Saito wins the 2026 senior women's 10K. Photo credit: Getsuriku_photo.

I've always been a fan of cross-country running.

Not necessarily running it myself. My memories from school involve free-falling down woodland gullies, losing shoes in sucking mud, and lung-busting hill climbs in driving rain.

But as a running fan, I look forward to the season. Whether it's the chaotic UK and European mudfests, the tight, trimmed NCAA speedfests, or reading about mind-bending altitude races in the Rift Valley.

There’s something about cross-country that feels raw and real. Running in its purest form.

And yet, I’m never quite sure how it sits within the wider running ecosystem. What is its priority? What is its purpose?

Japan has a similarly curious relationship with cross-country. It's a thing, but not quite a thing. And like most running-related disciplines in this country, it is shaped by its relationship to the Ekiden.

With the Japanese national championships wrapping up over the weekend, it seemed like a good time to muse on cross-country’s place in Japanese running culture.

Between a Track and a Hard Place

Ekiden dominates the autumn and winter calendar in Japan, with races of varying degrees of importance and profile taking place almost every weekend from October to early January. In that context, it’s hard for any other discipline to compete with that level of history, institutional weight and attention.

So while the NCAA is holding its signature cross races — including the delightfully named Nuttycombe Wisconsin Invitational, which always conjures up images of maple leaves, spiced lattes and bobble hats — and the UK stages its famous festivals of mud, Japanese cross-country lies relatively quiet, subservient to the iconic long-distance relays.

But come February, the tightly controlled Ekiden schedule begins to slacken. Teams head off to warm-weather camps in subtropical climes such as Miyazaki or Okinawa; individuals take on personal challenges such as marathons, half-marathons, and 10-mile road races; and Japanese cross-country gets its one day in the sun — and it is almost always sunny — before the track season opens in spring.

The national cross-country championships are held each year in Fukuoka at Uminonakamichi Seaside Park, a narrow peninsula that stretches into Hakata Bay. The event traces its roots back to 1987, when Fukuoka began hosting an international cross-country meet, and it has since served as Japan's national championship and, in some years, a World Cross Country selection race.

Dragon Backs and Sand Traps

This year’s event was a mash-up of the Japanese national championships, selection races for upcoming Asian competition, U20 categories, and a full slate of junior and amateur races, all unfolding across the same 2K loop of dusty, undulating grass and sand.

Recent high-profile cross-country championships, including the Europeans in Portugal — which at times seemed set up for a BMX race — have featured some imaginative course design. Fukuoka puts its own spin on the format with its “dragon’s back” undulating section and “sand trap,” a slight overselling of what is essentially a sand pit, but one that is nevertheless sapping on the legs.

The day’s races built from 2K burn-ups to the main events: the senior women’s and men’s 10K races. A quick scan down the start lists tells you why cross-country has to play second fiddle to the Ekiden. Almost all the top runners represent Ekiden teams, an obvious reality in Japan, where the corporate and university relay system underpins the sport, but it neatly illustrates why the cross sits lower in the pecking order.

That being said, there was a strong showing from top universities and corporate teams on the mass start line, and while the overarching goal may be individual strength-building to contribute to the team later in the year, a national championship title remains something worth pinning to the singlet.

Steeplechasers Reign Supreme in 2026

Me (!) running on an altitude cross-country course in Nagano Prefecture

Cross-country isn’t exactly an alien concept in Japan. Every amateur training camp I’ve been on has featured an undulating off-road loop, often the same strength-building course used by Ekiden teams. Top universities such as Juntendo even have dedicated cross-country courses on campus.

But given that road running remains the dominant format in Japan, it’s interesting to see who thrives when the surface changes. Perhaps it isn’t entirely surprising then that this year’s marquee winners were both national-level and record-breaking steeplechasers.

Miu Saito pushing the pace at a time trial at her alma mater, Nittai University

Coming off a victory in a recent 10-miler, Miu Saito of the Panasonic Angels women's Ekiden team showed her strength over the ups and downs of the Fukuoka course, gradually pulling clear of the field. A standout ace during her university Ekiden years, she now appears to be carrying that same authority into her debut season at the corporate level.

And as if to underline the steeplechase connection, Japan’s leading man in the discipline and Diamond League podium finisher Ryuji Miura claimed the men’s title, producing a decisive sprint finish against strong competition. Ryuji runs for the Subaru team, and while he excels at the steeple, he is required by his team to run the half-marathon distance in Ekiden races.

At the World Championships in Florida earlier this year, Japan’s U20 women secured a bronze team medal, a significant achievement and further evidence of the country’s suitability for this kind of racing.

All of which makes you wonder what Japan might be capable of on the world cross-country stage if Ekiden did not occupy quite so much space. But that’s an armchair theory long mulled over, and one that will likely remain unresolved for some time.

Post-Race Reflections

Miu Nishida (front row, second from right) lining up with the Tamagawa University women's Ekiden team

Like with any sport, knowing someone competing adds a layer of intrigue. I found myself focused on the senior women’s race, tracking the progress of Miu Nishida, a first-year runner on the Tamagawa University women’s Ekiden team, which I’m connected with.

Miu was the only athlete from the extended squad to race in Fukuoka. The coaches clearly see her high ceiling and viewed the 10K (roughly equivalent to the longest legs in university women’s Ekiden) as an opportunity to build strength and gain valuable experience for the future.

By her own standards, it was a tough day. But a 37-minute 10K on that terrain, on her first attempt at cross-country, feels like a solid foundation.

When I asked how it went, she was honest. A little frustrated. She spoke about taking “revenge” next year. I assumed it might have been the punishing hills or the dragon’s back that did the damage, but she pointed instead to the sand and how deceptively draining it was, how she may have underestimated its slow, sapping effect.

All of this has me thinking I might make the trip to Fukuoka next year. Cross-country sits slightly under the radar in Japan, but it offers something different: a rare glimpse of talented individuals negotiating grass, wind, hills and sand on their own terms.

And with athletes like Miu Saito and Ryuji Miura already making global statements — and perhaps a future Miu Nishida coming through — maybe this small February window deserves a little more attention.