I've been feeling a little less than fighting fit recently. After a winter of big eating and not such big exercising I can't help feel a little sluggish. Haven't been feeling great on the bike either, after the Christmas break I really struggled on a relatively easy outing. Not confident in my fitness. So, on Sunday evening without wanting to sound like a iijit from Alabama, I just felt like running. Twenty minutes later I no longer felt like running. I walked for a few minutes, and stopped to look at the stars before running half way home and running out of puff again. Not such an incredible performance. But still a marked improvement on the last time I tried running, almost a year ago. When after the same distance I almost collapsed with jelly-legs. I had stiff buttocks for a week. I knew my cycling fitness wasn't transferable to running but I do so much cycling and so little anything else that unless I really want to look like a cyclist - let's face it, they look like a bunch of junkies overly fond of tights - I should do something to balance out my fitness.
However, Monday was a bank-holiday, and I purposefully didn't kill myself Sunday night because I wanted to go cycling. Despite initial stiff legs I set off into a beautiful sunny day. Didn't even bother with my jacket - just a jersey and a base-layer. Quickly warmed up and got into a rhythm, felt pretty good despite a healthy wind, much better than a few weeks back when I felt like crap all day. Got out of the horrible sprawl of Hamamatsu after an hour or so and wasn't really sure where to head to. Just north; to mountains.
I followed the main drag straight north that eventually winds up to the Southern Alps. I thought I'd just go for distance and not push myself up any hills, about 4-5 hours should do it. I was cruising along comfortably despite the wind and spotted a sign for Akiha-san jingu 7km away. There has recently been a spate of posters in Hamamatsu-station for this shrine so I thought I'd see what the fuss was about. 7km isn't far, I'll check it out in 15 minutes then move on.
I followed the sign up a side road. It was just wide enough for two cars to squeeze past each other, and it was empty; pristine pine forest on both sides. The road suddenly changed to a steep climb. A very steep climb. Oh well, can't last for long. I huffed and puffed, slowed to a crawl and gasped for air. Ten minutes later I passed the 6km sign. Nuts. The road continued to creep up at an alarming gradient and I slowed to a crawl, forcing my legs up and down on each rotation, lactic acid burning in every sinew. The road remained this steep for the entire climb. I ran out of water after twenty minutes. I had to stop for breath half way up; my legs barely able to keep me upright. I offered a few appropriate suggestions to whomever had decided to build a road here, then set off again. Every 10 minutes or so passengers passed in their leather-seated-air-con-heated-automated-machines. They gawped out their windscreens at me. Not everyday you see a cazy white boy contorting every muscle creeping up hill atop a yellow bicycle I suppose.
It took 50 minutes of the steepest climbing I've ever done to reach the top. The only thing in my head was a tap. I saw universal stick-people and pulled over to guzzle water. When I regained normal thought-patterns I looked around. Their was a large relatively empty car-park; on the far side a tent selling oden and a very large impressive torii gate. Receding into the distance behind it were granite steps following the contours. I left my bike, peeled off my shoes and socks, leaving them to dry in the sun and hopped up the steps. Passing other visitors a hearty "Konnichiwa" was followed shortly by "Bleedin' heck chuck, d'you see that flamin' gai-jin! Didn't even have any shoes!" when I was assumed to be at a safe distance. The ones who recognised me from passing stared wide-eyed and muttered the Japanese version of "crickey!".
The steps climbed, warmed in the sun, cold in the shade. After a few hundred they opened out onto a large stone veranda. A huge view opened up revealing folds of blue hills below; in the distance a very small Hamamatsu Act Tower and a thin sliver of silver was all that could be made of the pacific.
I bought some oden, some tai-yaki, and sat in the sun.
* * *
It took 11 minutes to get down; and that was only because I got stuck behind a car going round the hair-pins. I hit 60kmh, and I muust have been doing the hairpins at 30kmh. My legs stiffened in the cold rushing air and by the time I had to pedal I had to warm up all over again.
When I got home I looked up Akihasan on my map. It rises over 800 metres in those 7km. That's more than a gradient of 1 in 10.
No ****ing wonder!
Guess I can't claim fat-bastard status just yet. Bring on the victory donuts!
