Tokyo Marathon 2026

This is a recount of my experience at the Tokyo Marathon 2026

I first ran the Tokyo Marathon in 2024 after having been lucky enough to be selected in the lottery. Yes, a lottery system. The Tokyo Marathon is part of what is called the World Marathon Majors, a collection of 6 (soon to be 7) marathon race events around the world. Other cities include Berlin, New York, Chicago, Boston, London. Sydney is soon to be on the list (maybe it already is?). Anyways, it’s a big deal for runners and demand to join one of these majors is high. Tokyo being one of the more notorious ones to ‘qualify’ for. I say qualify but it is mostly luck based. There are other ways gain entry to join. The most common way is to pay your way in through a partnering charity. I heard that it could cost as much as 15K HKD to enter as a charity runner. I didn’t know any of this as I am a mostly casual runner, but I’ve only tried my luck because my friend David urged me to do so back in 2023. He has tried to enter this race for five consecutive years with no luck so I didn’t think I would get it either. Miraculously, I did and so off to Tokyo we go!

I was really excited back then. Not because of the run but because it would mark my first trip to Japan. I’ve been watching anime since a kid and, like many people, am enamoured by the mystical land of the rising sun. Unfortunately for me though, a severe case of diarrhea fell upon me right before the trip. I have two suspects, the sashimi don dinner I had the day before or the fish noodle I had at Plaza Premium lounge right before my flight. Whatever the cause is, it wreaked havoc on my body the entire trip. I wasn’t able to fully enjoy any of the wonderful Japanese cuisine during the trip and the run itself was 6 hours of torture. From then on I silently swore to myself to always pack activated carbon on my travels and to redo the Tokyo Marathon someday.

In 2026, I miraculously got another lottery win. This is the redemption run.

Pre-race

Training

I didn’t pay any particular attention to training before the marathon. There was no meticulously crafted training plan or anything special to my diet. I had two half-marathons lined up earlier this year: The Standard Chartered Hong Kong Marathon and the ACTHK Half-Marathon. So I simply used the AI training plan feature on the Huawei Health app to help me craft a training plan for those and treated them as long runs for the marathon. I followed the plan as consistently as I can. The plan involved four runs a week, each run was slightly different but usually involved around 50 minute of running at certain heart rate zones. The app would schedule long runs for me on weekends but I tend to skip those because long runs are such a pain (foreshadowing: I would later come to regret this).

Travels

I’ve somehow managed to twist my left knee a week before the trip while having a pleasant stroll along Victoria Harbour. It wasn’t serious by any means but it wasn’t ideal. My trip to Japan was also arranged in such a way that the marathon would be at the end of the trip. I fly in to Tokyo on Wednesday (February 25^th) and return to Hong Kong on Monday (March 2^nd). The marathon was on Sunday. What this means is that I would have had a jolly time exploring Tokyo (and Kawaguchi area) for three whole days clocking in roughly twenty-five thousand steps each day. By the time it came for the race, I would already be totally knackered. To make things worse it was raining the first couple days I was in Tokyo, race day weather is uncertain. Thankfully the weather did decide to be cooperative for most of the trip. I did end up walking a lot every single day.

I hit Nakano Broadway, a watch lover’s paradise. There I found an Omega Railmaster that I’ve always wanted for a great price ¹. 372,591 yen (HK$18,410). It is currently discontinued and was never very popular so it’s a bit hard to come by. I’ve wanted it because it’s looks represented the quintessential tool watch. Even though the price was fantastic, it’ll still be the most I’ve ever spent on any single purchase. I couldn’t decide whether to buy it or not so I made a bet with myself. If I could run a sub-5 hour marathon, I would come back to buy it. My fastest time in marathon was around 5 and a half hours but recently I did 2:11 in the last half marathon so sub-5 should be in my reach.

The beautiful discontinued Omega Railmaster

I’m coming to get you, Omega.

Race Day

Morning

We woke up to the alarm set at 5 am in our hotel at Asakusa. We– did I mention that David also came? He didn’t get selected but he’s the biggest running supporter ever and a Japanophile so he’s here. I wouldn’t have done the marathon if I had to come alone. Anyways, I felt quite tired after days of walking and exploring Japan. My knees weren’t feeling great. There was a dull ache warming up in my thighs. But it is time to perform, the stage is set. I got ready, ate some bread and onigiris I’d bought the night before and we departed to Shinjuku.

We arrived at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building the designated start area of the race. I still had plenty of time to spare before the race officially starts but entered the restricted runners area anyway. David left to go Pokémon card shopping. He’ll be seeing me at some points throughout the race. I, on the other hand, went through security check into the restricted area. Once inside, the first thing I did was apply sunscreen. Sun protection is no joke. Even though it was 14°C, UV rays don’t care. I felt a bit silly for buying bottled water at the train station earlier because a few steps into the entrance area were water and food stations. The kind volunteers were handing out energy drinks (they came packaged in a paper can, cool!), some jellys, and some vitamin powder thingy. I finished everything. I wasn’t exactly hungry but I had 5 hours of non-stop running ahead.

The crowds of runners were slowly flowing into the start area. Everyone was busy getting ready. Some were organizing their gels, applying sunscreen, taping their legs, stretching, warming-up, or even meditating. Everyone was getting hyped up. You can feel the excitement in the cool dry morning air. There was still time and I had nothing better to do so I joined the line to the porta-potty. When I decided to join the line, I didn’t have to go yet but figured by the time my turn came I’d have to after drinking both a bottle of water and the energy drink from earlier. The line kept growing longer and longer as hopeful runners get ready for the upcoming ordeal. It took around 30 minutes to reach the end. Eventually announcements were being made to call for everyone to get to the start area. After emptying my bladder, I went followed the flow of people to the starting area.

I was placed in the last corral of the starting procession. To those unfamiliar, corral placement is based on your submitted projected finish time. Elite athletes and fast runners get placed in corral ‘A’, right at the front of the start line. The longer a runner is expected to finish, the further back they are placed. The logic is so that slower runners won’t block faster ones. This is quite a point of debate amongst some people because those who start later are at higher risk of being swept off the race. I, whom reported my planned finish time as 5:30, was placed in corral ‘L’. We were so far back I didn’t even see the start line and stage.

The waiting area for my corral was located at some kind of children’s playground. There by the sand pit, I decided to do some warm ups. I was cold and only had sports clothing on me. Staying in the sun helped but I needed to warm up my body somehow. It was then that I discovered a problem. For the marathon, I’ve prepared 6 energy gels. It is important for runners to periodically refuel themselves during a run. Especially on a long run like a marathon. You don’t want your car to run out of gas in the middle of a cross country drive. In the middle of my warm-up, just as I was doing butt kicks, one of my gels fell to the ground. The gels weren’t stored securely in my shorts’ pockets. I never had this problem before as my shorts had more storage than typical running shorts. I tried my best to stow away my gels as securely as possible and hoped for the best.

While waiting for the final minutes before the start gun, I was also looking for another important feature of big races. The pacers. They are special groups of runners organized by the event whose jobs are to finish the race at a consistent pace. There are many different pacer groups in the event, each for a different target finish time. They can be easily identified by the labeled flags attached proudly to their backs. The pacer group I was looking for is ofcourse the 5:00 group. As I scanned the crowd, I spotted a group of runners with the trademark flags. But when I inspected their flags, it read ‘Sweeper’. I was way too far back in the pack to find them. I’m guessing the five hour pacers are probably located somewhere in either corral ‘J’ or ‘K’. Sweepers are like the grim reapers of a race, the hang around right at the end of the pack to ‘sweep away’ any stray runners. Getting caught up by the Sweepers generally means that you are running too slow and are at a high risk of missing the cut-off. Upon this discovery, I knew I had to somehow catch up with the five hour pacer group to achieve my sub-5 goal (and claim that watch!).

Finally, the announcement to start is being made on the loudspeakers ². The announcers gave their words of encouragement and started the countdown. 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. GO!

Start of the Race

You might be picturing that the moment it is time to start everybody would be off sprinting. But remember, this is the last corral. We are so far back we couldn’t even see the start line. Nothing energetic was going to happen just yet, at least on the ground. While the herd of runners around me was slowly walking towards the start line, Marty Friedman, an invited guitarist, was shredding his guitar through the loudspeakers. The start was quite slow, some people were impatiently snaking their way through the crowd. I didn’t bother and just followed the slow but constant flow. Twenty minutes into the migration and I still wasn’t at the start line. It takes time for thirty-two thousand people to move. The sports drink from earlier was catching up and I needed another bathroom break. Near the start I spotted a few toilets and decided to go queue up since the crowd was still dense anyway. As I was about to get my turn, a staff member was screaming “GO, GO, GO! Start line will be closed soon!” Startled, I quickly weighed my options, I was literally next in line but getting disqualified right before I even started the marathon would be hilariously sad. I looked around and everyone had that confused look when something unexpected was happening. A couple people around me left the line and ran. I decided to take the risk and pee’d as quickly as I possibly could and sprinted to the start. If there was any footage of the start, I was one of the last handful of people who crossed the start line.

The Tokyo Marathon race course starts off with a gradual decline in elevation which offers a great opportunity for runners to speed up. But this feature can prove to be a double-edged sword if you sped up too fast and burn out early. I tried my best to maintain around 6:40 pace during this section. The target pace for this race is just under 7:00 minutes per kilometer. My first goal was to find the 5:30 pace group before eventually catching up with the 5:00 group. I took in the atmosphere as I made my way. The cheering crowds. The beautiful weather. The occasional discarded plastic rain jacket littered by some runners (bad!). There was a dull ache in my knees from all walking around tokyo we’ve done. Thoughts of whether I’ll be able to achieve sub-5, whether I’ll catch up to the pace group, whether I’ll get that Omega came and went. The night before I was telling David of my personal bet to buy the watch if I do sub-5 and he said I’d intentionally not make it to save money. I thought I’d prove him wrong, I really wanted that damn watch.

My spirits were high. I’ve managed to catch up with the 5:30 group and promptly overtaken them. After all my goal is the 5:00 pace group. Many doubts crossed my mind as I ran. “Will I ever see them?”, “Where the hell are they?”, “Why haven’t I caught up with them yet?” As I ran, I reassured myself by cross-referencing the pace band on my left wrist and the time recorded on my smart watch. A pace band contains a timetable of distance you should hit at certain points in time ( see image above). According to the band, I should be at least 15-minutes in the green to reach the sub-5 goal. And yet, why haven’t I caught up with the pacers yet? It took quite a while for me to even catch a glimpse of them. Around the 15 kilometer mark, hour and a half into the race, I’ve finally managed to see the characteristic flags bobbing up and down ahead of me. I was tempted to just sprint and catch up to them right away but knew better. I would be lying if I told you that I continued to maintain my pace and slowly caught up to them. I didn’t exactly sprint but I definitely upped my speed in my excitement. I finally caught up to the pace group right around the 17 kilometer point in the race, from then on it was a battle of endurance. With the help of the relentlessly consistent pacers, my pace also stabilized to around 7:00. The target.

The 5:00 pace group and I in front of Sensoji Temple, Asakusa

Nothing in particular really happened after I caught up to them. I was relieved to be with the pacers. All I had to do now was keep up with them for the rest of the marathon and I would achieve my target. I diligently made sure to have a drink whenever I came up to a water station to stay hydrated. I ate my gels every 45 minutes or so to keep my energy reserves up. At multiple times during the race the gels did come loose. I even lost one at some point. It bothered me but I tried to stay focused. Nothing I can do about it at the time. But if I lose another one I would risk running out of energy later in the race. Another thing that bothered me were my pants. They came loose a couple times during the race and severely sagged when I placed my phone in them. I was forced to carry my phone in hand for the entire duration of the event. They are actually my favorite running shorts³ that Adidas stopped making for some reason. I’ve regularly worn them since 2023 and the wear is really starting to show. No other running shorts came close to replacing until now. Anyways, enough about my pants. Despite the minor inconveniences that cropped up, I was still feeling strong. The battle of endurance went on physically and mentally. I drank, ate, and ran. One kilometer at a time. This may sound boring but it isn’t at all. This whole time the energy from the atmosphere has not let up. Some particular individuals among the spectators really made my day. An old man in a cat costume screaming ”Nya” whenever anyone high-fived his paws in the deepest voice you can imagine. He’d reach out his paws urging passing runners to fight on. A very friendly Japanese lady yelling “Welcome back! Thanks for coming!”. Her voice was brimming with so much positivity. I don’t know why this moved me so much, the words weren’t particularly unique or anything but it almost made me cry. At a corner there was an extremely loud American dude doling out a constant stream of snarky encouraging words. Yelling, “You there in the Yellow shirt, you’re running super fast”, “Those legs are flying!”. I don’t really remember he said, he just kept on going! Any dull moments were few and far between.

As the race went on the pain in my legs and knees slowly but ominously grew. My legs protested with every step I took. Running a pace 7:00 should be easy, but doing so continuously for 42 kilometers? Not so much. At 27^th kilometer water station, what I feared most happened. As I slowed down to grab a drink, I got stuck in the crowd while the pacer group continued on. I waded through the crowds but by the time I made it out, the group was already far ahead. I should’ve been able to make it back to the group. Should’ve. My legs decided to escalate from just protests to a downright mutiny. Pain flickered from my calves and knees making it clear that it’s had enough. I tried to plead with my legs one more time but it was not relenting. I started walking as I watched the flags moved on without me.

At this point I was actually still ahead of schedule by around 10 minutes, but I knew it wouldn’t be long until I lost this lead. I walked most of the remainder of the race and jogged whenever I could. I spent more time at the rest stations to refuel. The marathon organizers had set up local goodies for runners to partake in. You have the classic banana, but they had some unique selections available. There was Tokyo banana, taiyaki, chocolate, plum candy, and other pastries to sample. It was a mini feast. May as well enjoy some food right? I wish I had more to say about this phase of the race, but all I can share is that it was painful. The atmosphere was still great, but I was just pushing through the pain. I had stamina to spare but that’s just one half of the running equation. A car can’t run with just fuel. Shortly after kilometer 30, I can now see the last stretch to the finish line on the other side in Ginza. There, the road narrows and you are sandwiched between cheering crowds on both sides. It was my favorite stretch from 2024. The catch is, it’s still kilometer 30. There’s still another 12 kilometers to get through before I’d get to experience it again. So close, yet so far.

This part is easily the toughest. You’d have to get further and further away from the finish line while you see runners on the other lane getting nearer and nearer to it. From here you’d have to run another 6 kilometers before U-turning back. I continued trudging along, walking, running, wishing I was on the other side of the road with the other runners just a few kilometers away from completing. It should be motivating but it’s already 4+ hours of continuous running. Any lead I had earlier had long evaporated. All I wanted then was to get to the finish. Thoughts like “what the heck am I doing here?”, “Can I just get carried to the finish line?” came and went. I was digging deep for mental strength.

End

Finally, the sign indicating the last kilometer appeared. Memories of the final stretch from 2024 came back and the anticipation once again fired me up. I told the screaming in my legs to shut up for the final push. “It will be worth it, just a little more”, I told my crying knees. It’s hard to describe the experience of running the final section in a way that will do it justice. Imagine you’ve been running the previous 12 kilometers on a 4-lane wide open road ⁴, you’ve been in pain for the past two hours, you’re being baked in the afternoon sun, you’re surrounded by hundreds of other runners who, at this point, are also walking like you. Then suddenly you turn left into a narrow one-lane stone-tiled road ⁵. Buildings surround you on both sides like a corridor. It’s shaded now, and you have less than a kilometer to go for this run to finally be done. But that’s not all. On both sides it is packed with crowds of people cheering and spectating. Kids are sticking out their tiny palms for a high-five. People are cheering for their friends. They are cheering for you. The whiplash from the change in scenery, the shift in your surroundings. The sheer energy from all the people. It was an experience so powerful and emotional, I fought hard to hold in my tears. Just thinking about it now is making me feel things. The moment I made that turn into Marunouchi Naka-Dori Avenue, I forgot all my pain and just ran. I cheered with the people. I returned the high-fives to all the hands that stuck out to me. I cried. This was even better than I remembered. That narrow street in Ginza didn’t just mark the end of the race, it redefined why I entered marathons.

Post-Race

I hobbled my way through the finish area after crossing the finish line. I received the medal and all the food they handed out. I thanked each and every volunteer that congratulated me, I returned every single “おつかれさま” (“otsukare sama”). It’s a Japanese expression of acknowledging someone’s efforts. I guess the volunteers thought I was Japanese for some reason. I found a shaded spot to collapse onto and ate all the food they gave me.

I finished the Tokyo Marathon with five hours, twenty-two minutes, and twenty-six seconds. I wasn’t able to reach my target time. Even though the Omega will have to wait, I was able to get my personal best. I learned a couple of lessons that day. One: long runs are important to build the necessary endurance critical to the latter stretches of the marathon. Two: I needed new pants. I got to experience that magical moment in the end again. This was the most fun I’ve ever had running. Maybe I’ll get lucky again in 2027?

P.S. Later went to a public bath for the first time that night to relieve my aching body. It was quite an experience.