Ekiden Stories No.3: Speed is Optional, Spirit is Essential
- jeremy kuhles
- Aug 1
- 6 min read
Run an Ekiden in Japan, and it’s hard to shake off over a century of history and tradition.
For many runners, slipping on the tasuki stirs something deeper: memories of running relay races at school, supporting their university or company from the roadside or the stands, or simply watching the Hakone Ekiden over the New Year holidays at their grandparents’ place, curled under the kotatsu, peeling mikan after mikan, sipping hot green tea while runners engage in fierce battles on the road to Hakone and back.
But what happens when you run an Ekiden somewhere without that weight of history? Would teams new to the format be able to channel the spirit of Japan’s iconic distance relays, or would something get lost in translation?
The recent running of the second edition of the UK Ekiden gave me the chance to find out. I set out to find runners who could tell me what it felt like to take part.
Discovering Ekiden: Curiosity and the Spark
Unlike many university teams in Japan, where Ekiden is treated as a structured, year-round pursuit with full-time coaches and rigorous schedules, the University of Lincoln's journey to the UK Ekiden was driven by something simpler: curiosity, teamwork, and a desire to see what was possible.
For some, the term “Ekiden” meant little at first.
“I hadn’t really heard of an Ekiden when I first registered my interest,” said Lewis Knight, who helped bring the idea to life at Lincoln. “I’d seen corporate teams doing relays during my first marathon in Guernsey, and it sparked something. Running is often seen as an individual sport, but here was a chance to experience something collective.”
That spirit of collaboration was key for Lewis, who never considered himself a particularly competitive runner. “I’ve always enjoyed the energy of events, whether running or cheering from the sidelines,” he said. “When the chance came to be part of something bigger, a team relay, it just made sense.”
For others, the appeal was more immediate.
“I remember Lewis mentioning it during one of our casual society runs,” said Archie Wright. “And I just thought, this sounds amazing. I love anything that’s a challenge. I messaged him straight after, like, get me involved.”
Archie admitted he had no idea what an Ekiden actually was when he first heard the name. “I was like, what even is this?” he laughed. “But then I did a bit of digging, watched a few videos, and thought, yeah, this is cool. I want to be part of it.”
Preparation Without a Playbook
Once the event was inked in on the calendar, the team faced logistical and mental hurdles. With no coach, no centralized training plan, and only occasional access to a running track, Lincoln’s runners had to find their own paths.
Many balanced studies, part-time jobs, and placements, including several team members training for medical careers. A few raced for their local clubs and trained independently. There were no formal team sessions, no training camps, and no illusions about a podium finish.
“I even read Run with the Wind. It really resonated with me and what we were trying to achieve.”
Instead, they placed trust in one another. “We knew we weren’t going to win,” Lewis admitted. “So we focused on letting people train in a way that suited them. The only thing we asked was that they show up willing to give it their best, and enjoy it.”
That ethos extended to how the team prepared. Lewis began researching not only the UK course but the roots of Ekiden itself. “I even read Run with the Wind,” he said, referring to Shion Miura’s novel about a mismatched university team discovering meaning through distance running. “It really resonated with me and what we were trying to achieve.”
For Archie, the race became something to work towards, a fixed point in the calendar that shaped his training. “I knew it was coming up in June,” he said. “So I made sure I was doing a bit of everything: track sessions, some easier runs to keep the legs ticking over. We also did a few long runs as a team on weekends, which was a good way to build momentum.”
Without institutional backing, the team had to raise money themselves to fund much of their Ekiden endeavour, such as their kit, track training sessions and transportation. But in many ways, that added to their sense of shared purpose. They weren't just running for Lincoln, they were building something from scratch.
Race Day: Heat, Nerves, and the Weight of the Tasuki
The night before the race, the atmosphere was warm, literally and socially.
A pre-race dinner brought the teams together with speeches, introductions, and a rare chance to mingle with competitors they'd soon be racing against.
Archie described it as well-organized and fun, but also charged with something more serious. "There was a nervous energy," he said. "Teams had come here to perform. This wasn't just a novelty.”
That feeling only intensified when the runners learned who else was lining up alongside them. Members of Ritsumeikan University, a powerhouse women's Ekiden team and reigning collegiate champions from Osaka, had flown in for the event, joined by runners from their men's squad as well.
Their presence brought an unmistakable sense of authenticity and a reminder that this was an Ekiden in name and spirit, not just structure.
"I felt responsibility. To make a good start, to hand off the tasuki in a decent position. It wasn't just about me.”
Race morning arrived hot. Oppressively hot.
A heat wave had swept across the UK, and the riverside course offered little relief. Archie was on first leg duty. With taiko drums pounding and start-line adrenaline kicking in, he tore off the line like a sprinter. "Every video of me shows me absolutely pegging it to the first corner," he said, laughing. "I got caught up in the moment. I just needed to run.”
It was a move he admitted came back to haunt him later in the leg. But in many ways, it was also proof that the spirit of Ekiden had gotten into him. "I felt that responsibility," he said. "To make a good start, to hand off the tasuki in a decent position. It wasn't just about me.”
Lewis, who ran a later leg in the punishing heat, echoed that shift in mindset. "Running with the tasuki was different," he said. "You don't just think about your section. You're thinking about how far the sash still has to go, and what it means to the others waiting for it."
He added that while parts of his leg felt isolating with no crowds or music, the sense of connection was always there. "Even if you're alone on the course, you're still part of something. You're running for the person ahead of you, and the person behind.”
There were no grand time goals. No medals expected. But as the tasuki made its way along the Thames, it carried something just as real: belief, effort, and an emerging team identity.
After the Finish: More Than a Race
By the time the final runner crossed the line, something had shifted, not just in tired legs and sun-reddened faces, but in how the team saw themselves.
“A group of people who I didn’t know that well at first all bonded through a shared love of running,” Archie said. It was a simple observation, but one that captured exactly what made the experience resonate.
This wasn’t about individual times or personal bests. From the beginning, Lincoln’s approach had been built on trust and shared purpose. And somewhere along the riverside course, that quiet intent had crystallized into something stronger.
“I think the whole thing just showed what can be achieved as a team,” Archie said. “No one was running for personal glory. Everyone just wanted to do their bit, to help the tasuki move forward.”
Lewis reflected on the same spirit. “What stood out most was the mindset,” he said. “People were honest about their limits, but still showed up for each other. Even those who were nervous gave everything, not for themselves, but for the person waiting at the next handoff.”
There was no coach, no external pressure, just a small group of students who believed in each other and built something from scratch.
Now, with Lewis preparing to graduate, Archie is ready to take up the metaphorical tasuki and lead the team into its next chapter. “I’d love to build on this,” he said. “To make it even bigger next year.”
If the tasuki is a symbol of continuity and connection, then Lincoln’s journey is still in motion, passed not just from runner to runner, but from this year’s team to the next.
Join the University of Lincoln Athletics Society on their athletics journey by following them on Instagram and TikTok.
Text: Jeremy Kuhles
Images: Kindly provided by Lewis.
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