Feelings at Both Extremes

The day of the Hakone Ekiden has come around again this year.

Surely the runners, New Year’s though it is, can hardly fall asleep, and meet this start with taut hearts, wrestling with hope and unease. How many they overtake, a section record, a sash that couldn’t be passed on, dehydration, a first-ever passage through the qualifiers or a defeat, and so on—these unscripted dramas hold many an unexpected turn. Though I am only watching the sight of people running, the more mishaps there are, the more my heart, strangely, dances.

Is this ill-natured feeling mine alone? At the very least, the runners, and the coaches and everyone involved, must surely be praying for the race to proceed with smooth sailing.

When I consider that this is a season when so many people spend their New Year at leisure, the gap between running and watching is far too extreme.

Between the fighting spirit of the runners and me, greeting a peaceful, drunken New Year’s morning, I feel the distance of a far-removed state of mind.

Runners, thank you for a drama of guts worthy of the opening of the new year. Having received courage and motivation, I feel I can do my best this year too. And well done—thank you for your efforts.

“Now please, go on and have a good New Year,” I chanted in my heart, cup in hand.