World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run

A Tale of Perseverance

Me and the younger boy ran in the USMC’s World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run the other day. It was my second year doing it after running it with both boys last year.

2017 Mud Run younger boy chasing his big bro to the finish

They had a way better showing at it than I did last year, both of them finishing in the top ten places. First mud run and all, having no idea what to expect, I imagined five straight kilometers of nothing but mud and obstacles so I wore my five finger Vibram shoes. Rookie move! I can hike all day in those things--summited Fuji in them even--but running on level ground's another story and there was a lot more of that than I thought there’d be. Duh! My calves cramped up so bad it was all I could do to push myself to the finish line. This year I opted for a pair of Solomon trail running shoes and my feet and legs fared much better. 

My goal in doing it is to match or better the old me. I'm not much of a runner and know there’s no way in hell I’ll beat a 20 something runner even if I was so they’re not in my bracket.  If I beat the old me I win. That’s the point I’ve arrived at at pushing 52. The kids have other goals however.

I don’t know how long they’ve been holding this event. It’s held every June, which’s good for a mud run since June’s the rainy season in these parts. As said the boys did great last year. It was an exciting dad moment seeing them nearly neck and neck near the finish, little bro on big bro’s heels. This year the big bro opted out so it was just me and the younger boy, along with my sis-in-law and two nephews.

2018 Mud Run me

Constant rain the night before had given us the perfect mud run course. I did better than before but was still hurting by the end. I never was much for running unless there was a good reason to do so, such as training for wrestling or later full contact karate tourney or if being chased by a big dog or the like. Still it’s good healthy not so clean fun and I love the running through mud, crawling under nets, going through muddy concrete pipes or scaling walls jumping down into mud pits parts. The long stretches of running not so much. I did beat the old me by quite a few minutes but ended with scraped up knees and legs hurting by the time I crossed the finish. Then came the kids mile race.

2017 Mud Run older boy

The boys kinda surprised me the year before, both finishing near the front of the pack. The oldest was way too fun to watch the kid's fearless jumping off the hills into the muddy water. Much like myself he loves the mud part but isn't much for all the running so he decided not to do it this year. His little bro's been getting faster since joining a local running club though so he was just itching to get a trophy, which are awarded up through third.

He started off around the middle of the pack and moved up fast (two age groups 5-8 and 9-14 all start together). Wet grass turned to mud as they approached the low crawl nets that exited into muddy water, a muddy mound of dirt to go over then more mud, another mound, more nets, more water, more mud—the beginning leaves you a running muddy mess. There are big mud-filled concrete pipes to crawl through then some obstacles to go over, I’d cut across the middle of the course trying to keep an eye on him only to feel a jolt of excitement upon seeing that bright neon yellow shirt clad kid off in the distance holding a strong third. 

About 100 meters into the race, bright yellow shirt-clad younger boy'd made it from about 20th to 10th place 

The next best view was at the track trails so I took off in the other direction back across the center of the course to try to find a position where I could see him at the muddy mounds and water pits (about five of these in track trails) leg of the course. My oldest boy joined me we waited behind tall grass and saw the leader go over—teenage kid no doubt he was the clear winner, then another bigger kid and then...  Whoa the boy's holding third!

"Dude you’ve got this!" I screamed. I could already imagine him holding the trophy until...

In English the proverb goes:

 “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch”

Same proverb in Japanese goes: 捕らぬ狸の皮算用　

“Toranu tanuki no kawa zan’yo” — Don’t count the raccoon skins before you catch them.

I don’t know if he saw himself holding that third place trophy like I did--I had a whole coop full-o-chickens and a bag of raccoon skins already.  I so wanted to see him get that trophy only to see the eggs smash and raccoons scatter. He hit a bad spot second or third step into the muddy water and took a nose dive at full stride. The tall grass blocked my view of his landing but it was clear he hit hard and went under, and muddy as it was “under” was rocky and hard. 

track trails 

The oldest boy—making me proud by excitedly cheering on the little bro he fights like hell with other times—he and I ran down to where the runners climb the last big muddy hill to exit the track trails. The leader passed, then the next kid, then the kid who’d been about 10 meters behind my boy. I looked at my oldest boy while fighting the thought of his little bro still sitting there in the muddy water as other kids raced past or maybe just up and limping, fighting back the tears.  It was a helluva crash no way I'd be up and running yet if it'd have been me.

But not him! As the kid who’d been behind him was nearing the top that bright neon yellow shirt-clad kid turned the corner and started up the hill. I could see he was hurting bad but he was still moving. We cheered like hell! As he neared the top another kid turned the corner and was moving fast. Trophy’s gone so be it. Fourth is a helluva good show.  “Push it dude!"  One more muddy mound to go over, muddy pit of water to go through, nets to go under then final muddy area turning to grass sprint to the end.  The kid behind him had closed the gap by the time they got to the nets keep pushing dude, my boy was clearly hurting but still moving--under the first, under the second, kid literally on his heels now under the final net then… Whoa! 

He hit his runners stride and that threat coming up from the rear was no more.  I forgot about the pain in my own legs as his big bro and I sprinted to meet him on the other side of the finish line. Fourth place out of a whole gaggle of kids. Great! Getting up and not quitting after a huge crash and burn like that. Freak’n Awesome! 

It was fathers day. I’m proud of all my kids. They add so much to the bliss that's come to me in this life thing. Never did I imagine raising three, let alone doing it in a foreign land. There's nothing easy about it, but times like this definitely outweigh the times I'm pulling what's left of my hair out feeling like I'm blowing it. I love seeing them win or bring home tests with 100% or the like. What parent doesn't! But stuff like this--seeing them get knocked down by life only to get up and keep giving it hell. That's golden. The boy fell. He fell hard. Wet and muddy, skinned up a bit and hurting, he got up and pushed on.
He didn't quit.
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again" Goes the saying in English. 
七転び八起き Nanakorobi Yaoki -- "Fall down seven times get up eight" In Japanese. 
That's what he did and that, as I later told him, will serve him well for the rest of his life. 

As always with trips to Camp Fuji we all then enjoyed some good ol American burgers (me a big beef brisket sandwich) and pizza, got a few American goodies from the commissary, checked out some of the cool military vehicles, and talked with some of our nation’s great servicewomen and men. The boy was laughing and in good spirits by the time we were washing the mud off at the fire engine. By then he’d already begun saying “Trophy next year”.  That’s right bitches. We’ll be back!” To which I reminded him he’s only ten so he’s got four more chances at that trophy. I think the excitement got his big bro wanting to do  again next year too. Way too good! 

cleaning up

Still I couldn’t stop thinking about how bad he'd wanted that trophy, then back at home the thought hit me. A while back the wind'd blown the curtain and knocked that trophy I’d won at a karate kata tournament some years ago off the shelf. Plastic trophies break easily. No big just put the little man on top of the base and toss the rest. Or not? Not. Packrat me just couldn't throw away those shiny gold colored plastic pieces. I heard an "Ah-HA!" in my mind upon spying them once home.  Aching muscles or no aching muscles that kid is getting a trophy dang it! Everyone knows I’m always pulling out the tools to repair something so nobody thought much when I did it then. A piece of wood here, a salvaged old piece of karate trophy there, print out a running man and scribe to plywood, cut with jigsaw, paint and glue and print out a little sign and Whala! 

After Father’s Day dinner of USMC Camp Fuji take out pizza I presented the boy with the little known very prestigious World Famous Camp Fuji Mud Run Perseverance Award.  
He was all smiles. Okay, now things are right. 

Again next year? You bet! I ain't getting no younger, gotta keep moving! Plus my wife agreed to do the mile run with our will be old enough to join next June youngest girl child, the big bro kid said he may give'r another go too and I think it safe to assume that middle boy will be wanting that trophy more'n ever come then then so... 

We’ll be back! 

My Bliss