A run of days

On the train to Sakai last Sunday morning I read of a most unusual sporting account that happened quite some time ago. At the Stockholm Olympics in 1912, a young Japanese athlete named Shizo Kanakuri was the favourite for the marathon, but something went wrong. Kanakuri never crossed the line, in fact he disappeared and nothing more was heard of him until 1962 when he was tracked down by a Swedish journalist.
Back then Japan was represented in Stockholm by just two athletes and one of them was the 21 year old Shizo Kanakuri, who here at home was considered a hero because of the many successes he had achieved in the 42.195 km event. As a result of such nationwide acclaim, a public campaign was organized and a sum of money was raised to enable the athlete to compete in the ‘supreme test’ of the Olympics and so Kanakuri left for Stockholm om one of the not so luxurious liners of the times. The marathon was scheduled for 14^th July and there were three contenders for the gold medal that year, the Japanese and two South Africans.
The weather conditions that day were fairly unusual for Sweden. It was very hot and the athletes were strictly forbidden to take on refreshment. Kanakuri set off and immediately took the lead with MacArthur, one of the South African favorites hot on his heels, but after thirty kilometres Kanakuri disappeared and no-one saw him again. After days of searching the Swedish authorities declared him missing.
I can just imagine it, "sorry but one of our runners is missing!"
Fifty years after that long hot summer day, a Swedish journalist took up the story of this missing athlete and after a very extensive search he discovered that Shizo Kanakuri was alive and well in Japan. After all this time the former marathon runner agreed to tell his story:
In unexpected 40 degrees C (104 degrees F) heat, and over half of the runners in the event suffering from heat stroke, the marathon got off to a blistering start. Kanakuri, weakened by the long journey from Japan, and suffering from problems with the local food, was feeling very faint and was in danger of losing consciousness midway through the race. He stopped and knocked on a door and asked the kind family for a glass of water. He went inside, sat and drank three glasses of water and fell asleep on their couch.
He fell asleep, for ten hours!!  When he awoke, he was so ashamed that he left the country incognito.  In 1967 Stockholm celebrated the 55^th anniversary of those Olympic Games and the committee invited Shizo, now seventy six years old, to complete his marathon, resuming from the point where he had fallen into his deep sleep. It was still summertime, as in 1912, and finally the stopwatch was able to register Kanakuri’s time: 54 years, 8 months, 6 days, 5 hours and 20.3 seconds.
Incidentally Kanakuri did compete in the 1920 Summer Olympics held in Antwerp, Belgium, where he finished the marathon race in 2 hours, 48 minutes and 45.4 seconds and placed 16th.
It is a very strange story indeed but one with a touching end I feel.

The custom car show last Sunday was a fairly quiet affair as events go. There were a lot of people to be seen during the course of the day but I just didn't see the usual pulsating throngs. Perhaps it was because the seaside stage is a wide open space as opposed to the usual shows in indoor arenas. The other girls working the show were all new to me not having worked with any of them before but we soon developed a wonderful camaraderie.
There were not so many walking around excursions or individual photo-op's with the cars and bikes for us as hostesses, it was more central entertainment around the hub quite close to the main gate as 'eye-candy' would attract more of a gate.

I remember years ago covering some 'minor' events as a fashion journalist and thinking they could have done it better if they did this and this. I honestly believed in my head that they could have created a greater impact of social awareness and made their events so much more successful but looking back on those idea's with a more mature and cynically aware eye I think I may have been wrong. It seemed that no matter what we did, dance to music, parade with the custom cars, mix and talk to the people and try generate a positive happy feel it was overall lacking a certain something. I did not stop smiling, to do so would have been totally unprofessional but inside I felt as grey as a washed out garment if we are indeed capable of feeling a color. We all not what grey is synonymous with and it's not quite the blues.
'Was it me' I wondered on the train coming home. Then I felt the flood of guilt that I really had no business feeling. I knew I had done what I had to do and I had the girls laughing with my silly jokes but I start to think I better act my age and settle down. It has taken this one event where I didn't quite feel the thrill of the moment to offer me the doubts I feel now. I must admit that doubts are starting to edge over my desire to remain a part of all this bunting. The petty thrill of being thought of as desirable and attractive is in the mind of every woman, this I can admit. I have enjoyed turning heads and in a position of events and promotions model where this allurement is actively endorsed, a girl with an ego like mine would go out there thinking 'I can sell you this product, look at me as I smile my cute little smile and I flash my lashes your way and while you are captivated will you please sign the dotted line'.
Funnily enough it was just the other week when I sat and told my daughter Sumomo about the dangers of advertising when she wanted to phone a high value telephone line to hear the girls in her favorite group, Sistar, talk to all their fans.

The twist in my hair came from an amazing goo set I found on Rakuten, a beauty products website.
I ordered the product and did my own hair in time for the Sunday event.
Since it was also Sumomo's birthday on the Tuesday I did her hair late on Monday afternoon so when she would wake the next morning her hair would be beautiful for school and it was. It feels a bit awkward with the hair gloves educating your hair shape and going to sleep with them on is not as easy as they make it look in the instructions. Every time you move your head in the night it feels as if someone is gently tugging your hair.
The sacrifices we make for vanity!
I was impressed with the results though and so was Sumomo when we did hers. Some of her school friends are asking about a similar style for themselves - perhaps I can have a little salon and earn as I smile at the thought of another potential business opportunity. As it is Nia always gives me something when I do her hair at the studios. 'Please get a little treat' she says thanking me and pressing money into my hands.
Hitomi laughs and says she'll just buy a wig if she wanted something like this. She has always preferred her own hair short and manageable.