Well, well, only 37 posts for the the year and only a month to go until we say sayonara to 2015. I am determined to beat last year's paltry total of 49, which, yes maths fans, requires that I write something new every 3.333 recurring days. And unfortunately those days don't recur.
But where to begin? It's not like I have nothing to write about. Quite the opposite in fact. We had a busy summer and an even busier autumn and it is only now, as the first snowflakes fall (as they did today. On my bare head. Whilst sitting atop a surfboard down at Itanki this chilly afternoon. I really should have worn my 5mm booties. And at my age and scant hair coverage, I should definitely have worn a hood), that we have time to pause, take a breath, and catch up with the past couple of months.
So, indeed, where to begin. The prompt came from my good friend Master down in Hiroo (another good surfing spot), who rang during the week to inquire if everything was alright in the Gaynor-Takahashi household. Having not added anything to this blog since my fey, the-elvenfolk-go-to-Lake-Toya post, he was concerned that I might have succumbed to a prolonged illness or something.
Nope, I reassured him, just lack of time and eh, commitment.
But he did make me think that for my 'comeback' post I should really write about one of the highlights of the sporting year, the Hiroo marathon. Or rather, the 2015 Ougon-Douro Hiroo Santaland Marathon, to give event its full, majestic title. As Sanae and myself met, married and ahem, 'made' Cian in Hiroo, our ties to the town are many so it was only natural that we participate. Especially as this was the inaugural event and when history is being written you want to be holding the pen, or something. I have no idea - that metaphor came and went before I could fully grasp it.
So on Saturday, October 3rd, we hopped in to my trusty little Mazda and drove the four and half hours to Hiroo. And by the end of the journey my stiff body knew exactly how little my trusty Mazda is.
However, the aches and pains were eased by the marvelous dinner the Master of Goody and his wife gave us, followed by a mountain of ice cream for Cian who claimed he was 'calorie loading' before the big day.
Their generosity also extended to hosting us for the night so that we were fresh and ready for the race. Or rather, races, as Cian, Sanae, and myself were running different distances. Cian was up for the 3km, Sanae was going for gold in the 5km, and Daddy was aiming to be the first foreigner home in the 21km. We were blessed with the weather, a cool, crisp, blue sky day, with only a gentle breeze to contend with. I was off first and the route took us through Hiroo town before going out and back along the Ougon Dooro (Gold Road - so named for the exorbitant amount of money it cost to build it). The road runs along side the sea and this part of Hokkaido is renowned for its great waves (something I was happily oblivious to when I actually lived there. Love will do that to you). As I jogged along I couldn't help but notice the nice swell rolling through and then just beyond Funbe, a group of surfers lined the road cheering us on while out on the sea on a stand-up paddle board, Santa himself waved to us. Man, I nearly quit the race right there, but I kept going, to finish in 1:48, my best time in over two years. That's Hiroo for you. Cian finished 6th in his age group while Sanae stunned the world of athletics by being the 8th women home in the highly competitive 5km race. (Though there was subsequent talk of 'Russian methods' being used to achieve this.)
Then it was back in my little Mazda for the still-no-shorter four and a half hour drive back home. And if I thought my body was stiff after the drive on Saturday...
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