'The Running Of The Kids'

Lately my kids have been training for their upcoming 'marathon' event...marathon being the loose term given to a distance of what I guesstimate to be around 5-7 kilometres at most. Japanese people are prone to exaggeration (especially where physical exertion and weather are concerned). I have watched the kids traipse out to the sports field every afternoon for the last two weeks to endure the half hour of daily, mandatory practice required of them in preparation for this event. Enthusiasm has been lacking...it's cold, they (with the exception of the track and field stars) hate running, they have been missing out on their beloved club activity time and it is their least favourite event on the school calendar.

I have been watching all this unfold from the comfort and (relative) warmth of the teachers room. Every day my conscience has been nagging me to join the kids and share in their misery in a show of solidarity. Battling with my conscience has been the unfit, out of shape, lazy voice in my head, telling me I wouldn't survive the task. She is a force to be reckoned with, that voice, and I failed to join the kids every day for two weeks...until last Friday my conscience finally won out and I joined in with 'the running of the kids'...

WARM UP

Kitted out in my running gear, I headed to the track with the first trickle of students at 3pm. I sidled up next to Shiba Sensei (AKA Running Nazi With A Giant Yellow Megaphone) and expressed that I wished to join in with practice...the lazy, unfit, out of shape voice prodding me to say 'I might die, but I want to try running.' Greatly amused by this he replied, 'Please run!' complete with a grin from ear to ear. He proceeded to explain, with eyebrows condescendingly raised (clearly he was in cohorts with the voice) that I would have to run for thirty minutes without stopping and pointed to the larger-than-life stop clock positioned behind him...a clock I would soon spend thirty long minutes hating.

As Shiba Sensei wrapped up his lecture, the bossiest and loudest girl in school, Ayami, approached. 'Are you going to run today Ms.Carla?' she screamed at me from across the field. 'Yes Ayami, I'm going to try'. A waterfall of excited words came spilling back at me: 'Greatwhoareyourunningwithyoucanrunwithusthesoftballclubwearethebest'. 'Errr, ok...' I replied tentatively (the voice in my head starting to have palpitations) as she grabbed my arm and hauled me over to the group of softball girls already gathered.

The other girls greeted me with an equal display of excitement and enthusiasm about my addition to their running circle. Questions came flying at me from all directions...'Do you like running? Are you on a diet? Is that why you are running? Can you run fast? Do you do marathons in Australia?' I patiently answered all of their questions as we warmed up together...'itch, ni, san, shi...' Ayami lead the warm up stretches (of course, being Queen Bee).

Looking around I noticed that the other club teams didn't seem nearly as organised or methodical in their execution of the stretches. 'Uh, oh...these kids are serious...you are really going to die' the unfit little voice in my head warned me. 'Ahh, girls...we are going to go slow right?' Ayami: 'Of course, don't worry Ms. Carla...well (a cheeky smile stretching across her innocent face)...we'll go slow for half but fast for half...ok?!' Gulp...'Errr...ok...I think I might die though'. 'No, no, no, you'll be fine Ms. Carla!' a chorus of reassurances came back at me. The voice was not convinced.

00:00 - 30:00

00:00 - We set off running...the voice in my head deciding my place was at the very back of the neatly arranged double line of softball girls. There was no need to be any more conspicuous than I already was...especially if I was going to keel over of a heart attack three minutes in.

02:00 - We passed the music kids (disturbingly stereotypical) as our group set a cracking pace. 'You had better hope this is the fast half of the thirty minutes' pestered that annoying voice in my head as she started to puff and pant. I had to agree with her, silently hoping we had started on the fast half of our run.

03:00 - We passed the table tennis kids, wheezing and struggling...(Japan tries it's best to adhere to all social generalisations). The unfit voice politely suggested I might want to join the table tennis kids. I ignored her.

03:30 - I spotted Watahiki Sensei running and felt a little ping of glee that I wasn't the only teacher out there making a fool of themselves.

03:50 - Watahiki Sensei stopped running and I realised that he had just been jogging to his observation point on the other side of the field. The voice chuckled at me. Hmph.

05:03 - I looked at the stupid larger-than -life stop clock...and realised I had only been running for five minutes. Uh oh. My lungs were already burning and my dodgy knee was screaming at me to ease off the pace. Not to mention the voice in my head getting louder by the minute. This was not a good sign.

07:35 - I shed my hoodie as things heated up...literally and figuratively...more teachers had gathered to watch me run. The pressure of impending shame and humiliation forced me to continue...despite the voice's increasing protests.

09:42 - Another glance at the clock...not even ten minutes had passed. At least the girls seemed to have settled into a steady pace and we had stopped overtaking other groups.

11:15 - The girls must have heard the voice in my head enjoying the respite and quickened up slightly to overtake the tennis girls. The voice was not happy with me and was unrelenting in her request for me to stop.

11:30 - I overheard mumbles and barely hushed words of surprise and praise from the tennis girls...'Ms.Carla is running, amazing', 'Wow, she is fast!', 'Ms.Carla is so cute/pretty' (clearly these girls were not in awe of my running style, but at that point I was taking any complements I could get).

15:00 - Just as I was getting my rhythm and thought I might actually survive to the end of the thirty minutes, Queen Bee yelled out the dreaded words 'speeeeedo upuuuuu' to our group of runners. I groaned audibly...the voice making herself known (much to the shock of poor little Ms. Uruno running beside me) but I obediently quickened my pace to keep up with the girls.

15:20 - The voice in my head quickly decided that I really couldn't keep up this new fast pace and wouldn't take no for an answer. I slowed up, waved the softball girls goodbye and wished them well for the final half of the run.

15:25 - It dawned on me that I was now fully exposed and at the mercy of any students on the track. In abandoning the softball girls, I had in fact lost my security detail. I was suddenly acutely aware of 150 teenage boys watching me. Gulp. Even the unfit little voice was beginning to think I should have kept up the pace with the softball girls. I continued on...the fear of having my butt grabbed by randy teenage boys incentive to get moving.

16:47 - I ran past the stupid clock and the Running Nazi With A Giant Yellow Megaphone. Our eyes met and he laughed at the fact I was now running solo. 'They were too fast' I sheepishly explained and carried on defiantly.

18:59 - I spotted one of my special needs kids, Norio and ran with him for a while. Then he decided that we were in a race...just the two of us. I should have let him win (you know, given his certain, umm, disadvantages), but I didn't. I glided past him and got my second wind.

23:25 - The stop clock was no longer taunting me as I realised I might actually make it to the end of the thirty minutes. The unfit, lazy voice was in shock as even she started to think I might survive another seven minutes. With my second wind I started passing more kids, gloating slightly as I did so.

24:00 - The teachers took note of this phenomenon and started using this as motivation for (against?!) the kids...'Carla Sensei is overtaking you, are you going to let her?'...'Carla Sensei is faster than you'...'Here comes Carla Sensei, you better speed up!'.

25:34 - The inner voice started yelling at me again. I looked at the clock for the hundredth time which was now blatantly mocking me. I told my unfit inner voice...'less than five minutes...only a few more laps, you can do this!' She told me unequivocally to shut up.

28:03 - A silent stand off was taking place in my head as I watched the second hand move in slow motion on the stupid stop clock.

30:00 - The Running Nazi With A Giant Yellow Megaphone finally yelled at us to stop and my legs immediately complied. My knee ached, I struggled to catch my breath and my face was bright red...but I was alive. The unfit, unhealthy, lazy voice in my head sighed with relief.

WARM DOWN

The kids and teachers congratulated me on having completed my first run and elation flooded through my body. My lungs stopped burning, my knee was silenced and even the inner voice took a breather as the endorphins washed over me. I joined the softball girls again as we started our warm down stretches.

My resolve was building with the high of the adrenalin and I made a pact...'Thirty minutes wasn't so bad,' I told myself (and the voice)...'I'm going to join in with the kids again next week!' Just then Ayami and the other girls let out a cheer as they told me that their nightmare was over...'That was our last running practice, we don't have to do running again!'

The unfit, out of shape, lazy voice in my head let out a little snicker.

A Bug's Life

It was a quiet autumn evening, the sounds of the countryside long faded into the darkness. I lay in bed cocooned against the crisp night air, perched on the cusp of sleep. Sweet dreams and peaceful rest beckoned me with their alluring song.

Teetering precariously on the edge of oblivion, my senses were suddenly pulled from almost slumber to full attention. My heart quickened, the beat resounding heavily in my ears, every nerve in my body simultaneously charged with electricity. My muscles tensed and my eyes jerked open as a disturbing realisation settled on me...I was not alone in the room.

I was being watched by a patient stalker. My every move monitored and scrutinised...the perpetrator waiting for a chance to strike. Somehow this intruder had crept into my home, unseen, waiting for the opportunity to violate me. I felt vulnerable. I knew I was powerless to defend myself...my karate skills futile against my attacker's honed and lethal accuracy. Reduced to a quivering mess I was reminded of my fragile humanity.

Sleepless torture ensued as I fell victim to hours of repeated abuse throughout the night at the hands of this relentless assailant. I suffered long minutes of torment in the darkness, waiting for the end to come. The sun's first rays at dawn were a welcome reprise...I had survived the night. The perpetrator of the assault had fled the scene, leaving me with physical and mental scars as a haunting reminder of what had occurred...

I had been the innocent casualty of a fly-by blood sucking at the hands of a malevolent mosquito.

It's vital to point out here that I was attacked by a Japanese mosquito, as I've come to realise that they reside in a category for more exclusive and superior to mosquitoes from other countries around the world. For starters, Japanese mosquitoes are ninja trained and have the ability to hover outside for hours, awaiting your arrival home...then they'll stealthily slip into your home the second you open the front door. They'll take up residence in your home, uninvited, for as long as they can safely continue to suck your blood...somehow avoiding all attempts to squash them or spray them to death with bug spray.

If these conniving ways aren't proof enough that they are a super breed of mosquito, add the fact that they will harass you all year round and the resume of these bugs is complete. When mosquitoes in Australia have the decency to offer respite in winter from a summer of itching, Japanese mosquitoes are busily carrying out continued acts of terror against us poor defenceless humans.

Japanese bugs rein supreme in The Land of the Rising Sun and enjoy a privileged existence. I have a theory about why this is. Built like their human counterparts, Japanese bugs are highly resilient, resourceful and I'm convinced, more methodical and determined in their onslaught on the human race than we give them credit for.

I think this phenomenon brings credence to the Buddhist belief in reincarnation. It seems an easy leap of logic to assume that these bugs are simply Japanese people...reincarnated. I'm fairly sure most of the Japanese population subscribes to this notion too, give they treat these super bugs with the same respect and polite fear they show each other in daily life.

Having grown up in Australia, I have become used to coexisting with insects of all shapes and sizes and from a young age I have known how to dispose of the creatures when the need arose. Whether Japanese people are scared it's their Great Uncle Shunji crawling up the wall or they were not ingrained with this killer instinct, I'm not sure...but whatever the reason they refuse to kill bugs and simply appear terrified of them in most cases.

It never ceases to amaze me when a Japanese person completely loses all poise and composure in the presence of a four-plus legged creature. I've seen it all...little girls crying because there is a tiny money spider on the other side of the classroom...an entire English lesson sabotaged by the dance of a pair of mating dragonflies...teenage boys screaming as a moth tries to escape out a window...an entire room of teachers stopping dead in awe of of the cicadas' song in summer.

Japanese people are petrified of bugs. On the whole, I find this an appalling demonstration of cowardice and I judge them harshly for it. Having said that, I do believe there are a few instances when it is genuinely acceptable to exhibit healthy caution in the presence of these super bugs. The specific super bugs I am referring to are the 'giant Asian hornet' and the 'giant Japanese centipede'. I mean, the fact that they both have the word 'giant' in their title infers that a certain level of reverence should be given to them at the very least.

Australia is known for it's killer animals...creepy crawlies included, but even I'm not blasé about these two. Pretty soon after my arrival on this island I was warned about the giant Asian hornet. Given that it's nick-name is 'yak-killer', it's not surprising this bug is taken seriously. The hornet averages the size of your palm and is definitely a merciless predator. Unlike other winged stingers, this guy won't die after he injects his victim with venom...he will continue to attack until paralysis or death occurs. Not only that, that giant Asian hornet's venom is tissue eating which doesn't sound like a nice way to go if you ask me.

Did I mention they can kill you? In addition to their ability to wipe out entire colonies of bees, apparently around forty people in Japan die each year from giant Asian hornet attacks...a pretty respectable statistic. If all of that it's disturbing enough, I recently learnt that they are picky about their victims... the colour black is a red flag for these guys...and if you drink alcohol or enjoy a sweet diet then you are an even more attractive target. It's a good thing I've given up alcohol, but it might be time to ease off my sugar intake and change up my wardrobe...

 

The giant Japanese centipede may not be a killer like the hornet (unless you are unlucky enough to have a pre-existing health problem when they strike), but these guys will give you a bite nasty enough to make you hallucinate and head to the nearest hospital. The scary thing about these centipedes is that much like the Japanese mosquitoes that stalk humans, they will welcome themselves into your home...and into your bed to get a taste of you. I have to give kudos these guys as incidents of centipede bites are so common in Japan that every police station is stocked with anti-venom...

According to Buddhism, being reincarnated as an animal is only the midpoint on the six step reincarnation ladder. If that's the case, then the top rung must be a pretty sweet deal, because as far as I can tell, it's a bug's life here in Japan. I'd go so far as to say insects in Japan get treated with more fear and reverence than us foreigners...and that's saying something.

Yes, I have decided that in my next life I would quite like to be reborn as a insect in Japan and enjoy the privileges of a super bug's life. That is, I'd like to come back as any bug but a fly. I've seen how deadly accurate our tea lady is with a fly swat at school...clearly flies are not deemed worthy of the reincarnation ladder...

The 'L' Word

Georges Clemenceau once said, 'Everything I know, I learned after I was thirty'. I'm already beginning to see Georges point...after barely six weeks of being thirty...

Since turning thirty, I have been on a constant emotional roller-coaster...observing and experiencing highs and lows I've not encountered previously. Thirty has started with a many lessons...both good and bad...and the subject I'm currently majoring in? Love, of course.

Lesson No.1: 'I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I think one of the arteries is clogged'

A former employer once told me (in a meeting to warn me about my 'attitude') that if I'd had a bad trip into work, the whole office would know about it within five minutes of my arrival. Those words have stayed with me, for as much as I wanted to refute his argument, I really couldn't.

Every emotion I ever have is aired for the whole world to see...it is a fact, I do wear my heart on my sleeve. I 'tell it how it is', I'm an 'open book', I 'don't beat around the bush'...some find this trait endearing, others find it abrasive (refer to previous note about attitude). I find it both hazardous and rewarding in equal measures, but it is something I have come to accept about myself over the years.

One symptom of this trait is that I fall in love quickly and I fall hard. I'll be picking my bruised heart off the ground, brushing it off and swearing I will never go down that road again when somehow I find myself in the middle of it ...all over again. I've often wondered if this means I am a helpless romantic...or worse, just blindly stupid when it comes to love.

What I have learned is that for all this falling in love, I only ever make it about 95% of the way there at best. There is always that last 5% (the clogged artery) that calculates all the different ways it will end, all the possible ways my heart will be injured and adds up all the reasons why it won't work out. When I hit that 95% percent mark, the walls come up and my defences are engaged. What I've regretfully discovered is I'm also capable of shameful and hurtful acts, all in the name of protecting my heart.

So what caused this clogged artery and will a change in diet and exercise regime see me return to full health?

Lesson No.2: 'If I throw some of this baggage overboard, can I stop the ship from sinking?'

There is a 'rule' amongst women that goes something like, 'it takes half the time you were with someone to get over them once you break up'. My logical mind only wishes there was a mathematical equation to deal with these things and the toll it takes on us. If the rule were true, then I would have been a fully recovered and functional human being back in 2008, having done the three years of 'time' after my longest and most involved relationship to date.

The truth is I'm still dealing with the repercussions of that relationship...and the proceeding ones. Baggage is a nasty term we give to the reality that faces everyone...as we get older, we have more life experiences, many of which are gained through relationships. Good or bad, they make us who we are and shape the way we look at life and future relationships.

My baggage saw me flee my home land and I have since spent the better part of six years travelling the world, enjoying a freedom I'd longed for since I was a teenager. I have lately admitted to myself that the likely cause of my clogged artery is residual scarring from that first long term relationship. I gave myself over fully back then...100% and six years of my life. I was young, naive and at the time I thought I was going to get my happy ending.

It wasn't a horrible relationship, there was no abuse, no infidelity, no major event to warrant the need for me to become a man hater (which I'm not, by the way), but none the less it has left me with baggage, complete with my own personal monograms. But what if all this baggage is weighing me down so much I can't move forward?

Lesson No.3: 'Cold as ice...can someone get me a blow torch please?'

A few weeks ago, someone (having only met me once before) made a comment that I seem 'as tough as nails'. A younger version of myself would have found that a wonderful complement, but I must admit that my heart sank a little when I heard those words on this occasion. Sadly, it's not the first time words of this sort have been used to describe me. Even those that have had 95% of my heart have sensed my inner ice maiden and said my heart needs 'melting' or that I need 'softening up'.

I know I have become hard. I am aware that this is because I have allowed my baggage to accumulate over the years...to a point where it has become a fortress, stacked high around me on all sides. I am tough, I am cold, I don't let people into that last 5% of my heart so I can stay safe and secure from the hurt.

It's only in the last few weeks I've noticed just how lonely it is high up here in my castle of personally monogrammed baggage. Question now is, how do I start to tear down the fortress and allow people in?

Lesson No.4: 'Is it really better to have loved and lost or should I just be blissfully ignorant?'

This is by far the hardest lesson I have learnt of late. One I am still processing and probably will be for quite some time. I personally don't believe in finding 'the one' or a person that 'completes me', but I do believe others happen on it. People do find unconditional, all consuming, selfless love and lately I witnessed each end of the spectrum when they do.

I was home recently to see my sister's union to my now brother-in-law and the marriage of some very special friends. Little did I know when I boarded the plane that just ten short days would change me so fundamentally. There are two instances from this time at home which have taught me more about love than I have acquired the past thirty years. Two occasions which are now etched firmly into my memory and will reside with me until the end of my days.

The first was a great shock to me as I saw my aunt for the first time since the passing of her husband (and my uncle) nine months ago. I had been told by various family members that she had not been coping well with the loss and that she was grieving badly, but nothing prepared me for what I saw. My aunt and uncle were soul mates before he passed...married for almost thirty years and spending every single day of that time together. Despite a significant age difference between them, everyone who met them could tell in an instant they were meant for each other.

Since my aunt has lost her soul mate, she has lost a large part of herself. I was reduced to tears on seeing the shell of a woman she has become without the man she tied her life and heart to. I don't know who that woman is now, she is a stranger...so physically, mentally and emotionally altered she is unrecognisable. The woman who I shared my deepest thoughts with, grew up aspiring to be and adored for all her warmth and compassion no longer exists. She is unable to smile, sleep, carry on a normal conversation or concentrate on a task for more than a few minutes...she is dying of a broken heart. Her loss is so great it is consuming her existence...all because she found love and she had her happy ending...

On the flip side of the coin, I observed the most joyful and heart warming sight a big sister can ever hope to see. I watched on as my younger sister, and best friend committed herself to a life with the man she admires, respects and adores most in this world. That in itself was moving enough...but the moment that I now treasure most about that day was seeing my brother-in-law's face at the moment he set eyes on my sister. While everyone watched her, I saw the uninhibited happiness and love he has for her physically overwhelm him. His tears and the pure joy he showed in that moment filled me with certainty that my sister has someone who will walk beside her the rest of her life.

Seeing both these extremes in one day leaves me with both hope and despair about love. Even if I can manage to somehow give over that last 5% of my heart to someone...if there is someone out there I can love like that...is it worth it? Would it simply be easier for me to stay in my castle of baggage where I am alone, but safely ignorant to the elation and grief that kind of love can cause?

Lesson No.5: 'Single is a dollar, but do I need change?'

In the seven months since my last visit home, one thing has become abundantly clear...as a thirty year old single woman, I am very much in the minority among my Australian friends now. I can count my fellow singles club members on one hand and those that aren't married and/or have children are for the most part planning nuptials and offspring in the coming year or so.

Here in Japan I am surrounded by other foreigners who are travellers like me...mostly single, without children and generally a good few years younger than me. The bubble I live in here allows me to forget my age and the social expectations that come with the number...it was only when I left the bubble I was made aware of just how different my lifestyle choices are to my friends back home. The gap is widening as I get older and it's getting harder to ignore.

Nothing says 'you're thirty now' like being checked out by a cute guy at the shops...then watching in shock as a toddler runs up to him screaming 'Daddy, Daddy!'. Outside of this bubble I live in, 'potentials' have baggage of a whole other kind now...luggage tags stating 'divorced', 'separated', 'kids' and the like. How and when did this happen?!

Over the last few years as I have inched closer to turning thirty, I have heard all the warnings that I would tire of the life I have made for myself. I was told 'my biological clock would start ticking' and that I would 'want to settle down and get married'. I think someone left out that part when I was made because I haven't ever really felt the urge to get married and I can tell you that right now, kids are not even a blip on my radar. I wouldn't trade the last six years of my life for anything...I chose this life of travel and I have loved every minute of it. But truth be told,  it has come at a cost.

The price of this path is that love for me has had an expiry date. Even as I'm falling in love, that clogged artery of mine has a purpose...it's my reality check, the safety device, the earthing wire that serves as a reminder that love can't last for me. I move amongst people who are transient. They will be in my life for a day, a month, maybe a year if I am lucky. I have been without a fixed home for six years. I am transient.

With this in mind, I've predominantly been on my own for the last six years. I've been spinning on this merry go round, constantly moving it's finally starting to take it's toll. I'm exhausted...maybe I need change?

Lesson No.6: 'Home truths...I might be ready to click my heels three times'

Each of the last three times I have been home, it has become increasingly harder to leave. I may not have aspirations in the near future to get married or have children, but I am ready for some stability in my life. This is the most significant lesson I have learned since turning thirty. This transient life and carrying around all this baggage has worn me down.

I've been lost since the earthquake here in March...floating without a purpose and not really knowing what I wanted in life beyond Japan. This last trip home afforded me some clarity and I now know that I will be going home to Australia when my adventure here is over. I have returned to Japan from this trip with a purpose, a focus and very specific goals in mind. When I have achieved what I want here in Japan, I will be ready to click my heels three times and say those magic words...

I want off of this merry go round, I want to feel stability, I want to ditch this baggage and I want to work on clearing that clogged artery once and for all...I want The 'L' Word in my life.