Well I´m happy to say that I made it through the 100km hike alive and unscathed, save for a few small blisters and some muscle and joint stiffness. I learned a lot from the experience, good things and bad.
Firstly, I learned yet again that it is an incredibly small world. So there I was 800 metres up a minor mountain outside Tokyo with 700 or so other climbers all spread out at different intervals over the peaks, when who should I find myself walking beside but a French woman who worked at a desk opposite mine in the same bank in Luxembourg. And to increase the randomness of the encounter, it´s not like she lives in Japan or anything - she´s now based in Sydney and just happened to be here on business. The best part of our exchange: I remembered her full name and she couldn´t remember mine！ Brownie points！ That usually never happens to me.
Secondly, I learned that I am physically fitter and stronger than I thought I was: I was almost never out of breath, despite the incline; and during the daylight climbs, when I wasn´t slipping about in the rain, mud and darkness, I was able to attack the mountains at a very respectable lick. I guess I have hot yoga to thank for this.
However, finally, I also learned that I am mentally weaker than I would like to think. If any of y´all ever need to torture me, don´t waste your time waterboarding me. Go straight to the sleep deprivation and you´ll get your goods. We finished the 100km in 43 hours but that only allowed us two sleep stops - one was 1.5 hours, the other 2 hours long. More than thirst or cold or hunger or pain, it was the lack of sleep that nearly broke me a couple of times.
There were some funny side effects to my exhaustion. I don´t like to swear and I made a personal vow several years ago to try never to curse again. I´m usually pretty true to this promise, but during the hellish overnight climbs I was swearing like a trooper！ At one particularly low point I asked an organiser in very polite Japanese, "How much longer to the next rest stop？" From our map we´d calculated about 5 minutes. His answer - 1 hour - caused me to let out a long, low, guttural "F#%K！" It startled even me and cracked him up... the F-bomb heard around the world.
It really was tough going at night in the dark and rain. I spent so much time tripping on exposed roots, as my headlamp was necessarily spotlighting the track ahead, that I became covered head to toe in mud. Even strangers made bitchy comments about how dirty I was. Having said all that, I honestly did enjoy the bright dry days. It was an amazing challenge that I´m so glad to have completed. I´m getting pumped now starting to think what the next feat might be.
It took a good night´s sleep for that euphoria to kick in, mind. My finish line photo shows a man who´s about one more posed victory shot away from going Bjork on the photographer´s ass.
P.S. I know I said I was all about the next challenge and already planning what my next adventure might be. But Freudian analysis might beg to differ. You see, I left my bloomin' expensive hiking shoes at the entrance to the bathroom at the finish line and have heard nothing back from the Lost and Found since!
I've put up some photos now - the rest are up on facebook at
Hahaha, F#%K!
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