Climbing the final hill, I entered the stadium and saw the clock ticking at 3 hours 13 minutes and change. Wait, what? If I made one last push, I could run a sub-3:15 marathon. Feeling completely out of control from dehydration and exhaustion, I let out a guttural growl and pumped my legs.
Rounding the curve and entering the final stretch: it's on here! It's fking on! The crowd watched as a wailing banshee hurtled down the last few meters of the Kochi Ryoma Marathon. And then, 3:14:20. I bellowed with everything I had left before collapsing onto the grass.
But let's go back 48 hours to arriving in Kochi, a coastal city on Japan's Shikoku Island, known for its rugged mountains, pristine rivers, and historic Kochi Castle. A place steeped in samurai history and far removed from the towering skylines of Japan's major urban centers. I stepped off the plane, a bundle of nervous energy, hauling a backpack packed with running gear and gels, my mind occupied with one thing: redemption.
I couldn't shake the memory of November's Kobe Marathon, where I had blown up spectacularly at the 32 km mark, watching my goal time slip away with every agonizing step. Kobe was my first ever full marathon, but it had been a humbling experience, the kind that lingers long after the soreness fades. This time, I was determined to run smarter, to control the race rather than let it control me. The plan? A 3:30 marathon, a time I wasn’t even sure I had in me. But I had come to Kochi to find out.
Race Day: The Morning Routine and Start Line
I woke up early after a somewhat restful but typical pre-race night — light sleep, frequent wake-ups, and that mix of nervous anticipation and excitement that always comes before a marathon. Sleeping in an unfamiliar place never helps, but that’s just part of the game. Breakfast was a struggle, as it always is when racing away from home. I made do with convenience store sandwiches and a banana shake, but I really need to figure out a better system for fueling when I’m not in my usual environment. It’s something I’ll have to prepare for in future races, making sure I can replicate my training nutrition no matter where I am.
The morning started off a bit nervy. My plan was to take Kochi’s retro and charming tram network, the 1.6 km to the starting area, but as I probably should have expected, it was completely packed with runners. Change of plan. Time to walk. In the end, it was probably for the best; the walk helped burn off some nervous energy, giving me a little time to settle my thoughts. I had scouted out the baggage drop-off the day before, so I knew exactly where to go. No unnecessary stress. I handed over my bag, went through my warm-up routine, and made my way to the start line, feeling calm and ready to execute my plan.
The First Half: Settling In
My target was 3:30, which meant staying steady around 4:55 to 5:00/km. The first few kilometers felt smooth, weaving through Kochi city center with its mix of small crowds and quiet stretches. I settled into a comfortable rhythm early, making sure I wasn’t burning too much energy too soon.
One of the coolest aspects of this race was that it had official pacers from Aoyama Gakuin University, the reigning Hakone Ekiden champions. Three of their top runners — Hiroki Wakabayashi, Akimu Nomura, and Kosei Shiraishi — had been brought in to pace the 3:00 and 3:30 groups. It’s extremely rare to run alongside elite-level collegiate athletes, and just seeing them in action was impressive. Their running was precise, efficient, and seemingly effortless. I had originally planned to stick with the 3:30 group, but with so many runners surrounding them, I found it a bit congested. After a few kilometers, I decided to pull slightly ahead, finding a rhythm that felt more comfortable.
At 20K, the bridge climb loomed, the longest sustained uphill stretch of the course. I had prepared for this mentally: keep the effort steady and not force the pace. Reaching the top, I let myself open up on the descent, taking advantage of gravity while still conserving energy.
The Crowd, the Energy, and the Grind
It sounds like a cliché, but in Japan’s local marathons, the whole community really does come out to support. From the moment we left the city center, the streets were lined with volunteers, shop owners, families, and school kids, all cheering at full volume. People were handing out oranges, rice balls, salt tablets, and even homemade sweets. Elderly spectators clapped in rhythm, kids stretched out their hands for high-fives, and there were countless hand-drawn signs with words of encouragement. I felt energized by the warmth of the support, and as the kilometers ticked by, I couldn’t help but smile at the sheer enthusiasm of it all.
The Second Half: Getting Down to Business
But then, the real work began.
At 30 km, the first cracks started to appear. The effort felt the same, but my legs weren't responding as smoothly as before. My breathing had deepened, and I could feel the familiar tightness creeping into my quads. I had fueled well, taking in gels and water at the right intervals, but nothing prepares you for the point where a marathon becomes a pure test of will.
At 35 km, the race shifted from physical to mental survival. The crowds had thinned in places, and I found myself running in smaller packs, everyone locked in their own battles. The once-light strides now felt like controlled falls forward. I was still holding pace, but it was taking everything I had.
Then, out of nowhere, I heard it — YMCA blasting from a local school band.
It was so ridiculous, so unexpected, and yet so perfectly timed that I couldn’t help but laugh. A few runners around me even threw their arms up into the signature Y-M-C-A letters mid-stride. It was a reminder that marathons are hard, but they’re also meant to be enjoyed. That one moment broke the tension, gave me a tiny burst of energy, and helped me press forward toward the final stretch.
The Final Push
By 38K, my thoughts had narrowed to one singular focus: just keep moving. Everything hurt, but I had made it this far, and I wasn’t about to let things slip now. At 41.5K, the stadium came into view, perched cruelly on top of a final incline. One last hill. One last test.
And the rest is written into my history. Demons vanquished. The memories of Kobe’s collapse no longer haunted me. Kochi had given me proof that I could run strong, execute a race plan, and push through the toughest moments.
So, what’s next? The next logical step would be to think about 3:10, 3:05, or even that iconic sub-3 goal. Those numbers will always be there, lingering at the edge of my thoughts, waiting to be chased. But for now, I won’t let my mind be consumed by them.
For now, I just want to celebrate this moment.
Exploring Kochi: A Perfect Pre-Race Experience
While the marathon was the main focus, I wanted to make the most of my time in Kochi. I came down with my family, and as watching Dad run around for 3+ hours isn’t the most exciting activity, I wanted to make it memorable for my wife and daughter.
We arrived in Kochi on Friday night, giving us a full Saturday to explore before race day. Staying at OMO Kochi by Hoshino Resorts, a minimalist yet smart hotel with excellent food and hospitality, set the tone for a comfortable and seamless weekend. The hotel experience itself was a highlight, not only for its convenience but for the thoughtful touches that made the stay special.
After a fairly restful night's sleep, we headed out to explore Kochi Castle, one of Japan’s most well-preserved feudal castles, where we took in panoramic views of the city. From there, we wandered over to Hirome Market, a lively food hall packed with locals enjoying regional specialties. I indulged in Katsuo no Tataki, the city’s signature seared bonito, flame-grilled over straw and served with a punch of garlic and citrus. It proved to be good fuel for the next day's race.
We saw a traditional Yosakoi dance performance — a high-energy, colorful spectacle that embodies the spirit of Kochi — on a stage in the hotel and soaked in a large yuzu-infused bath, sinking into the deep tub, the fragrant citrus floating in the warm water, eased the tension from my muscles and mind.
If you’re thinking about running a marathon in Japan and want to do something a bit different from Tokyo, Osaka, or any of the other big-city marathons, I highly recommend this one.
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