Fuji Marathon 2025

I hadn’t visited my best friend Aika since she moved to Japan more than fourteen years ago. So when she made an irresistible offer to drive down to Kawaguchiko so I could witness her first ever 10K run, the answer came easily. Yes. No hesitation.

Our day began the night before. We left Toyota around 11:30 PM, chasing a schedule held together by coffee, Red Bull, a lot of naps on the way, and faith haha.

I’ll be honest. The weather weighed on me. The rain, the fog, the grayness. Weather forecast said it will rain all morning and I started to doubt that maybe Fujisan wouldn’t show herself this time.

We arrived around 5 AM and slept in the car while the rain continued, tapping loudly as if it was in no rush to leave.

At 8:30 AM, Aika gently woke me. She needed to head to the starting line. Half-awake and still heavy with sleep, I told her I’d catch up and let myself drift off again.

By 9:30, the rain finally eased. I wasn’t prepared. I was wearing mesh shoes, the kind that soak up water and regret. They were the only pair I had with me on this trip, so getting them wet wasn’t an option. Instead, we stood by the route and watched the runners pass. It was unexpectedly moving. Locals lined the sidelines, cheering with full hearts. I spotted this one uncle who stayed there the entire time, clapping and shouting encouragement for every single runner who passed him.

Gelo and I walked toward the 8 km mark to wait for Aika. We wanted to catch her stride, take photos, witness her in motion. While waiting, we were entertained by runners in costumes, little pockets of joy sprinting by. People from all over the world had gathered here, drawn by the same mountain, the same challenge. It was so communal and electric.

By noon, Aika had finished her run. We took photos, wandered through the booths, and eventually left for a late lunch. I loved meeting her new community in Japan. I was reminded, again, how effortlessly she moves between languages. We were joined by two of her Brazilian friends who spoke only Portuguese. Aika translated without breaking rhythm. She’s always been that way. A true polyglot.

And then, right after lunch, it happened.

Fujisan appeared.

Clear. Massive. Unmistakable.

My heart felt full to the brim. Fujisan’s presence is so overwhelming, grounding, and awe-inducing all at once. She stayed with us during the drive home, visible through the windows until darkness slowly took over the sky.

Sometimes, all you really need to do is say yes. Shoot your shot. Stay a little longer. Hope anyway.

Maybe I'll go again next year. :)