Cycle Aid 2013

I didn't think anything memorable or important would happen in these last few months on the JET Programme, I thought it would be a time for reflection, packing and stress. I almost didn't do Cycle Aid Japan because I didn't want to be committed to something at this time, but it turned out to be one of the best experiences I've had in Japan, and one of the worst. I did the 60km 'middle course' from Koriyama to Fukushima.

Belly dancers appeared at the start.

Chie drove me and my bike up to Koriyama where the event was to start. It was a charity cycling event, not a race. I went to the bathroom and while I waited for an eternity to get into a bathroom stall a slouching, slow moving man in his late 20s shuffled up to a urinal and pulled down his trousers to reveal an adult diaper. It was apparent that this man had special educational needs. Soon after a teenager came into the toilet and upon seeing the harmless man slouched over the urinal, he turned and walked out laughing. The shame. The man in his late 20s shuffled out of the toilet and met his waiting mother who fixed up her son's trousers and led him away. I thought about a parent's love for their children, and wondered aloud why both guys in the stalls were taking such a goddamn long time to come out. Finally one of them finished and I saw in the stall the now familiar sight of shit and mess around the rim of a "more hygienic" Japanese squat toilet. Then I defecated gloriously and I worried that it would end up being the highlight of the day.

My friend who is American but not obnoxious attended the event with me and if it wasn't for him signing up as well, I probably would have quietly let the sign-up deadline slip by. He is stronger and faster than me and I was worried that he would outclass me so much as to cause embarassment, but we stuck more or less together until the end. 

A member of staff rode behind everyone and if you dropped back to where he was, he had to ask if you wanted to retire. This was my biggest fear, and worrying about it stopped me from fully enjoying the first half of the course. About three times during the ride a bright yellow support car slowed down beside me to ask if I was okay, and then went right by other people who were going at the same speed as me. Did my condition appear worse than everyone else's? Perhaps they had perfectly straight riding form and I was hunched and flailing all over the place. 

At the rest points no one looked as tired as I felt, they were either hiding it well or I was out of my league. As usual, I underestimated myself. The recommended average speed for the course was 15km/h but we did an average speed of 20km/h, completing the course in 3 hours and 12 minutes. 

The rice fields and the mountains.

Maybe it was me, but the event seemed a little dour at times. The female staff at the registration desk were happy, but the male staff at the start point were very stern faced. I attempted communication with one of them, but it was weird and he didn't seem interested. When we set off the staff gave a sober applause, the kind you'd hear from a group of mothers watching their sons go to war for the emperor. None of the whooping and hollering that I was expecting. The same solemn clap was heard from the staff at all the rest points. I just wanted to be encouraged, I just wanted people to care about me. 

My American friend and I did some whooping when we set off from the halfway rest point but we got laughed at. The other participants mostly had severe expressions, and discussed in serious tones their condition and the complications of the course. No smiles.

However, towards the end of the course you could feel the esprit de corps. People resting on the side of the road shouted support and I shouted back. "Only 15km to go!" The last 10km included a long 4km climb, at the peak of which was a small group of staff and members of the public. They shouted "Just a little further!" and I groaned "Is this not the end?" They laughed and I laughed, finally creating the jovial atmosphere I felt was appropriate for this community event. 

Music was playing from my iPhone on the way down the final hill to the finish line, a certain song played and in that moment it meant something and I was happy.

There were smiles in the end.