Barefoot in the Sunshine

Tokyo had a lot of nice weather recently. The sun was warm but not hot, the humidity of the rainy season hasn’t come yet. The warm weather recently indicates we are probably in for another very hot summer, one that will probably come with blackouts or power restrictions given the loss of power from the tsunami damage to the nuclear plants. But for now, it is just a nice day to be out.

I have been feeling a bit up and down recently, so I thought it might be good to get out and get a little more exercise. I went running a few times in the last week, but I am planning to enter a few races this year, including the Osaka marathon in October, so I need to get out and do more distance for that. More importantly, I know that when I run more I feel better. So I threw on my shoes and my iPod and was out the door.

Last week I bought my first CD in some time, The Sound of Sunshine, by Michael Franti and Spearhead. It is a lot lighter and more joyful than a lot of their previous stuff, and as I jogged around I listened to a mix of it and a few other Franti albums. I couldn’t have asked for better audio accompaniment for my run.

I ran at a fairly slow speed, not pushing myself, just wanting to do the 10k with some enjoyment and a lack of pain. I did so, and about two thirds of the way through the run I reached, not exactly runners high, but a stage where I feel better. Where the sun, the run, and the music had flushed out my mind and body of at least some of its depression and anxiety.

At the end I checked my watch, it had taken a little over an hour. I stretched a little, and enjoyed the moment. Then I took off my shoes and socks and walked back home. I’ve been doing a little barefoot walking recently, and it is pretty enjoyable. It reminds me of being a kid, my feet touching the ground without being imprisoned in stiff shoes, being able to feel the texture, the temperature of the ground. It is a simple pleasure, but it is really something.

You would expect that the ground is rough and dangerous, but actually it is not bad. In Tokyo, despite a near-total lack of rubbish bins there is little litter, and while the pavement and roads are not exactly made of rubber, they are perfectly fine to walk on. I haven’t been to the beach for a long time, but I think I’d like to try and get there at some stage in the near future. I’d like to feel the sand between my toes, feel the sunshine, see the waves coming in. That’s definitely on my to-do list now.

Running under the cherry blossoms

“I have the same commitment everyday when I wake up – today I’m going to try my best, today I’m going to give it my all.”
--Dean Karnazes, ultra marathon runner

It is Friday again, and I just came back from a run around a park near my house. My legs got sore so I didn’t run as long as I would have liked. Still, it was good to see the cherry blossoms (picture above), which are in full bloom. Many people are walking around admiring them, some groups are picnicking and drinking under the trees, as Japanese have done for generations. There seems to be less people doing so than usual, in deference to the recent disaster, but people are still out and about.

I don’t feel great, but I am trying to do some simple things to keep my head above water. This week I went running three times, and I did a major spring clean. I threw out a bunch of junk that had been cluttering up my place for some time, and reorganized things. I have more space now, and I think having an organized place helps my state of mind.

In the midst of the spring clean I also pulled out my guitar. I bought an acoustic guitar years ago, before I came to Japan, and have attempted to learn how to play it on several occasions. I seem to find simple things very difficult to learn and remember, and this includes how to play music. On Wednesday I pulled out the guitar for the first time in a year and practiced some very simple exercises from the Mel Bay Grade 1 book. I told someone that I seem to pull out the guitar every year and realize that I don’t have guitar skills. He made the simple point that if I practiced every day, maybe I would realize that I did have guitar skills. I am only three days in at this point, but time will tell. Usually I get ashamed of my own inability to improve and give up.

While I was out running I was listening to the Radio National Breakfast podcast, and today’s included an interview with Dean Karnazes, an American runner who is running across the US. At the time of the interview he was in Missouri, heading for New York. He talked about how he took up running seriously because he was bored and in his regular life everything came easily to him, but he found an almost spiritual experience in his extreme runs.

As I, an Australian running under Tokyo’s cherry blossoms listened to him, an American charging across a entire continent, I thought about how different the two of us were. Unlike what Karnazes said about his own life, nothing seems to come easy to me. Every day is a struggle.

I’m not running because life is too simple and easy, but because for me it is too much to deal with. And some exercise, like therapy, medication, and other things, can help to take the edge off a little bit. I am very much a creature of habit, and I hope that by establishing better habits I can manage my condition a little better. I know this depression, this anxiety will never go away. It is part of me. But I need to learn to tame it, control it better. I hope I am on the way to doing that, I really do.

I am not capable of running across a continent. But I, like Karnazes, am capable of giving every day my all. And that's what I'm going to do.

Depressives don't get happy endings

This would be the perfect moment for the curtain to drop, but depressives don't get happy endings. They don't get endings at all, because depression never goes away. It may be forgotten; it may lay quietly for years; but it's still there. Depressives never know when it will strike again, and every new episode increases the likelihood of another.
--Christopher McDougall, The Long Road Back

I'm writing this on Friday morning, and the sun is shining through the window. It seems like a beautiful day outside. I should go outside and get some sunlight, but I need to get something off my chest first.

It would be nice if the events of the last few weeks allowed me to simply throw off all the depression and anxiety like an old blanket and suddenly become healthy, having been confronted with a disaster, having kept my head and got through it without freaking out and running away unnecessarily as many expats (and not a few Japanese) did.

But that would be a happy Hollywood ending. The reality is, the last few weeks have been tough. While I have little right to complain compared to those in Tohoku who have lost homes, businesses, or loved ones in the recent disaster, in the last few weeks I have had a number of factors come together that have brought my depression to the fore.

Firstly, I have been attempting to taper off medication, after a long time on it. I hate being on medication and I mentally equate taking medication with being depressed. I’m aware this is irrational, but can’t seem to help it. I also worry about the long term consequences of being medicated, and have been troubled about things I have read online.

Secondly, after the marathon a month ago I have had some leg problems which have greatly reduced my ability to run. They are getting better with time, and I’ve been to the doctor and had a few massages but am still not back to 100%. I had started going to a yoga class in December but slipped out of the habit after the marathon. Exercise is very important in managing mood, and for the last month I haven’t been doing that.

Thirdly came the earthquake off Sendai in Miyagi prefecture, followed by the radiation scare at the nuclear plant in Fukushima prefecture. While what happened in Tokyo was very little compared to what the alarmist media reports said, and nothing at all compared to what those up north are enduring, it was a tense time. There are concerns about radioactive contamination in the water and in produce from near the reactor.

One might hope that this tense time would let me throw away my own petty concerns and depressions, but the three things above in combination were not much fun. I’ve been stressed, anxious, and had trouble concentrating. One of the most annoying things for me is the fact that I can’t seem to get my head around all these things about radiation, nuclear plants, etc. I read newspaper articles and it just does in one ear and out the other. Nothing seems to really stick, I can’t seem to hold on to it. The sober scientific reports indicated there was essentially no risk to Tokyo, but I can’t really grasp the details behind them. I just have to trust that the scientists know what they are talking about.

But I’m enduring as best I can. I’ve stopped tapering and increased the medication slightly. I’ve been starting to exercise again and hoping that helps lift my mood. I can’t do much about the larger disaster situation, but I’ve made small donations and am paying much less attention to the news. This all feels very selfish and self-centered, but you are no good to the world if you’re good to yourself. And I think I need to accept that I'm a depressive. That the depression will always be there. Denying that simple truth seems to be hurting me. And I'm pretty tired of self-inflicted pain at this point.

Depressives don't get happy endings. But food, shelter, another day above ground, and morning sunlight will have to do. I hope I'm turning a corner here - time will tell.

Earthquakes, nuclear disasters, and an alarmist media

It has been a long week. Thank you to everyone who posted over the last week, I really appreciate it. It is now Sunday night, 9 days after the Tohoku earthquake. The earthquake caused a tsunami which pounded the coast of Tohoku, the region north of Tokyo. It destroyed ports, towns, cars, homes, and took an unknown number of lives. They are still counting the dead, still looking for the dead. The images which flooded the internet and the television look like a warzone.

In Tokyo, however, people have been somewhat distracted from the horror of the earthquake and tsunami's effects by the malfunctioning of the Fukushima I nuclear power plant. Located conveniently next to the ocean, its systems malfunctioned after a pounding by the tsunami, leading to a nuclear accident and frantic attempts to get the plant back under control. The first explosions took place on the day after the earthquake, and the situation deteriorated from there. Much has been written about the Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) and their less than stunning track record, and there has been a lot of criticism in the press of the government.

The thing that has really annoyed me, however, was the media. The situation is of course very bad. Reactor buildings exploding and increased radiation levels are generally not a good thing. But the media loves a good story, of course. And "the world is ending" is a much better story than "this is a problematic situation of limited scope that a lot of people are working hard to fix". I can't really talk directly about the nuclear situation, as I was not there, but I can talk about the situation in Tokyo.

Everyone was of course shaken up, both literally and figuratively, by the earthquake and its aftershocks, and by the news of what had happened in Tohoku. Then when the Fukushima plant became an issue in the days after the quake everyone started worrying about that. The French and Germans were the first to leave en masse, with their embassies advising their people to leave.

Over the next few days a number of other countries changed their advice and suggested that their citizens leave. Some countries, such as the US and UK, organized flights for their citizens out. Many people took to their heels and headed across to western Japan to await the worst. There were food shortages resulting from hoarding and power shortages that reduced lighting and train services. But the world didn't end. Media from all over the world, eager to scream and shout, were more than happy to find the most scared or paranoid person they could, interview them, and then broadcast their rantings as fact.

This led people overseas with family in Japan to freak out and demand that those living in Japan leave or go to another part of Japan before the nuclear plant blew up and spread radiation all over Tokyo, ushering in the end of the world as we know it. The scientists generally seemed to be saying that even in the worst case scenario Tokyo would be fine. But for the most part the media beat up the story as much as they could, creating an environment of fear that led some to flee. They didn't flee totally without reason, of course.

Last night I was in Shibuya for a goodbye party. Incidentally, this was for a planned departure, not for a "I'm freaking out and jumping on the first plane home" departure. It was a bit dimmer than usual, with some lights off to conserve power, and the huge screens over the Hachiko crossing not blasting J-pop for once. But the streets were still pretty crowded with young people in crazy clothes and odd hairstyles. The restaurants were still open. The convenience stores, like the supermarkets, are not quite as well stocked as usual, but they are far from empty.

The paranoia seems to be subsiding somewhat. I'm not sure if FDR was 100% correct when he said that "we have nothing to fear but fear itself", but he was definitely onto something. The worst appears to be over. I might be wrong, but I think from now things will gradually get back to normal, and the long slow task of rebuilding will begin. I am fortunate in that I don't know anyone who was killed or injured, but a lot of people have not been as fortunate. It definitely helps put things into perspective.

The Earthquake

On Friday afternoon at 2:46pm what is now known to be a magnitude 9 earthquake occurred off the city of Sendai in Miyagi prefecture north of Tokyo. At the time I was in a subway station waiting for a train to come to transfer. Earthquakes are very common in Japan and I've never really given them too much thought. The ground shakes for a short time, then everything goes back to normal. Ho, hum.

For the first few seconds I was just expecting this would be the same thing. But the shaking was very violent, and it just kept going and going. I looked around and the other passengers waiting on the platform didn't seem to be going anywhere. The roof was shaking back and forth, the ground was shaking - everything was shaking. I looked at the ceiling and thought about how Japan has strict building codes, and that I probably should be okay. It felt a little unreal. I didn't feel like I was really in danger, nor did I feel any urgent need to get out.

After a minute or two the shaking stopped and I went out. I used my cellphone to update my Facebook status and people started commenting on it immediately, and updating their own. The phone network was totally overloaded and it was impossible to call anyone or get through by cellphone email, but the internet still worked fine and Facebook was the best way to contact people.

I walked to the office, buildings still shaking around me, the sidewalks full of people who had just been evacuated from their buildings. I met my coworkers, who were on the street outside. No one really knew what to do. There was a public announcement that said something about going to higher ground. Did we need to expect a tsunami? No one knew. The closest higher ground was a shrine nearby, so I suggested we go there. We made our way through the hordes of people and went up the stairs.

A coworker and I went to check on another coworker nearby who had been at the gym. He was still there working out, not letting an earthquake get in the way of his exercising! We wandered back to the group, bumping into various people we knew who were waiting outside their buildings. Everyone was freaked out.

The trains were all shut down. The roads were soon jammed with traffic. Taxis were impossible to get and even if they could be found they weren't moving very much. We searched for a place to stay, but everywhere was closing. Finally we found a coffee shop that was not so full, and someone got some snacks and a deck of playing cards and uno from the convenience store. We checked the news on our phones, followed other people's Facebook posts, tried to contract friends and relatives. The damage in Tokyo was limited, but the northern part of Japan was a disaster area, with horrific images of tsunamis hitting the land and destroying houses, fields, roads - and lives. No one knows the final death toll yet, but it will be high.

Eventually we gave up on waiting for the train and everyone decided to walk home. All over Tokyo many people did this, walking two, three, four, or five hours through the cold to get home. Or more. Eventually some trains started running but they were very overloaded. Fortunately I don't live so far from work, so it didn't take me so long to get home.

The aftershocks continued all Friday night and through Saturday. On Saturday the trains were running limited services, and the situation at Japan's nuclear power plants because a worry, especially in Fukushima prefecture, with an explosion at the Number 1 reactor. As I write this on Sunday I know that many expats, especially Germans and Americans are leaving. From tomorrow there will be rolling three-hour blackouts throughout different parts of Tokyo to conserve power. Needless to say, this is all very worrying.

I don't know what will happen. But what I do know is that the Japanese people are tough and resilient. And historically they have met much larger challenges than this. They were forced out of self-imposed isolation at American gunpoint in the 19th century, and within decades were a world power. After the 1923 great Kanto earthquake which leveled huge parts of Tokyo the city was quickly rebuilt. And after world war two, when the country had been totally devastated by bombing, it only took a few decades for Japan to become an economic power.

Japan today faces many challenges. It is politically unstable, with six prime ministers since I came to Japan, and every appearance that the current one is in a lot of trouble. Japan has an aging population, a huge suicide rate, an increasing income gap, and the loss of jobs overseas. But maybe, just maybe, this disaster might be the thing that pulls people together, and sets the country on a different path. I don't know. But I hope so.

There Is No Finish Line

I had an attempt at a post on god, life, and the meaning of the universe, but it didn't come together very well. I think I need to bounce some ideas around in my head a little bit longer before they come together properly. So instead, I thought I might steal a title from Nike's admen and talk about running instead.

It is after midnight here in Tokyo. I just went out for a night run. It was cold and there was some light rain, but there wasn't any wind, so it wasn't too bad. I had to push myself a bit to do it, but I got my running gear on, my sneakers, running tights, t-shirt, hoodie, beanie and gloves. I put on my headphones, hit play on the iPod, and ran off into the night to the sound of AC/DC's Highway to Hell - that got me moving!

I probably ran for about 12 kilometers or so. I stopped and walked at some points, sometimes for a minute or two, sometimes for a song or two. Then I picked up the pace and started running again. Not pushing myself too much, but not slacking off too much either. A nice middle ground.

The 2011 Tokyo marathon is coming up in about a month, and I am not ready for it. I wasn't ready for it when I did it in 2007 either, but I managed to get through it, despite it being an agonizing experience. And despite not really being ready this year either, I am a little older and wiser than back in 2007.

My physical fitness is a bit better than it was in 2007, and my depression is not as bad either. Also, I have finally realized that I don't need to run like a kamikaze intent on obliterating myself, the way I used to in the past. It is okay to go slow. It is okay to walk for a time. The important thing is just to keep moving - and to do so sustainably.

I think when I do the marathon a month from now I will most likely do some version of running for ten minutes, walking for two. I have tried it out at shorter distances, and it really does seem to make the run easier. Back in November I did a half marathon where I stubbornly ran the whole distance, despite the fact that alternating walking and running would have probably made me a bit faster. This was pointed out to me while I was doing it. But I wasn't capable of not forcing myself to "run" at that race.

I had quite a lot of pain after that run, and that combined with a few conversations with other runners led me to finally become a bit more reasonable, a bit more flexible in my approach. I think I needed both the pain, plus the advice from others who had been down the same road before me, to help me realize that the way I was doing things were damaging me.

It took a long time, but I finally made the realization. Many things seem to be like this. But life is long. I have time to figure these things out. And I'm beginning to think that I will, one of these days.

Tokyo Marathon, Take 2

“Never tell me the odds!”
--Han Solo, The Empire Strikes Back

The Tokyo Marathon is an incredibly popular event. This year, 294,469 people applied to run the full marathon. 32,000 were accepted. And I was one of them!

This will be my second time to enter the marathon. The first time was in 2007, at the first Tokyo marathon. I had signed up for it in the summer of 2006, when I was doing relatively well, and running relatively often. But as the winter of 2006 came, I gradually fell into the first of my three major bouts of depression. Among other things, this pretty much stopped any exercising.

By the time the marathon came around in March 2007, I was very out of shape, and still very depressed. But I couldn’t bear to give up. So I went ahead and ran the race anyway. The first ten kilometers were okay. The next ten were increasingly difficult and painful. And the last twenty were hell. Actually, I walked the second half of the race, and took six and a half hours to finish. Even walking was incredibly painful. But I ran the last few hundred meters to the finish line. I was in agony for weeks afterwards, but I finished it.

I had no interest in ever doing a marathon again. But this year I started running again, and gradually I have been getting fitter. I am still out of shape, but I am gradually getting better. This week I ran 15 kilometers for the first time since that day back in March 2007. Slowly but surely, my body is getting in shape. It is not all improvement – yesterday I went for a run and felt I had to stop after 4 kilometers. I still have a lot to learn about fitness, about my body and how to treat it well. But I’m getting there.

I have no intentions of repeating the self-imposed death march that was the 2007 marathon. I am running two or three times a week, and gradually extending my distances. I am trying to eat well and will also be doing a number of shorter races in the next few months to build up my stamina.

I completed the 2007 marathon, but I still feel I was defeated by it. In 2010 I want to make a success of the race. It will be hard, it will be painful. But I want to be able to run it at my pace, and run the whole way, not have to drag myself across the finish line. I’d like to finish it in 5 hours. And I’d like to finish it with a smile on my face!

Sushi Oasis

Life in Tokyo can be exhausting. The city is huge and sprawling, almost a world unto itself. It has been the center of power of Japan for 400 years, and in that time has grown to into one of the largest cities in the world. 13 million people live here, and sometimes it seems like we are all crammed into the same train.

Much of Tokyo is a wasteland of concrete, steel and glass, with very little in the way of nature. Garish neon lights blast into the sky, pachinko parlors with their incessant noise are everywhere, and black-suited salarymen are constantly rushing around. Death from overwork is common enough to have a word to describe it (karoshi, if you are curious), and the city can be incredibly isolating, for both Japanese and foreigners alike. In other words, sometimes, it all gets a bit too much.

There are many possible temporary escapes from the stresses of Tokyo life. Alcohol and karaoke are popular, usually in combination. All the retail therapy one can afford is easily available. If a more personal consolation is what is required, despite prostitution being technically illegal, Japan is filled with brothels of various types. There are also many “host” and “hostess” clubs where those interested can go to be plied with alcohol and entertained by the modern day descendants of the geisha.

As for me, I prefer to go to a sushi shop.

I eat sushi at least a few times a week. When I step into a sushi shop, it often feels like stepping back in time. The walls are usually wood-lined, and when customers enter they are greeted with a hearty “irrashaimase!” from the staff. The types of sushi on offer are typically written in Japanese on boards against the wall, sometimes in English as well as Japanese.

In a standing sushi bar, the sushi chef will lay a bamboo leaf on the counter. Green tea is free, as is the ginger used as a palate cleanser between different types of sushi. Customers order sushi two at a time, which the chef places on the leaf. Customers come in by themselves, or in groups. Sometimes there is banter between staff and customers, but usually it is quiet. There is music playing, which usually seems to be about 50 or 60 years old. It is relaxing.

I prefer the bar to be not too crowded, but not too empty. Sushi is good for you, and eating it has its own little ritual. Lifting it with chopsticks, a slight dip into the soy sauce, and then into the mouth. If it is good fish, it often melts in the mouth. With each piece of sushi I eat, each minute I spend in the sushi bar, I feel a little more relaxed. A few of the worries of the world fall away, or at least recede from view for now.

If I’m feeling good, I usually feel great after going there. If I’m feeling down or stressed out, I tend to feel a little better. The food is healthy, and the environment is enjoyable. I step out of the sushi oasis refreshed, and ready to do battle with Tokyo once again.