Sandals, Waterfalls and Regret
Blistered Lessons on Mount Kawanori
A fairly routine run yesterday, but seeing as I’m now crippled in bed, I figured it deserved a write-up.
The course was Aaron’s idea, agreed to by Bintang and me. Naturally, Aaron bailed, leaving just the two of us. On the bus to the trailhead, Bintang realized he’d recently done this trail and offered a passive-aggressive, “Oh, we’re doing this one?” - as if the group chat had been written in invisible ink. Truth be told, I’d also done it last month and wasn’t thrilled about the repeat, especially in summer when there are plenty more mountains to explore further afield.
Still, the trail up to Mount Kawanori via Hyakuhiro Waterfall is one of Tokyo’s finest: winding singletrack along the river, waterfalls at every turn, picturesque bridges and endless ribbons of komorebi.
After pushing my ankle all summer, I finally gave in to the minimalist footwear bandwagon. With Mexico looming, I decided to channel my inner Tarahumara and bought a pair of Earthrunners sandals. Throughout I felt lighter, almost springy, dancing up the inclines with something like childlike glee.
At Hyakuhiro Waterfall, the sandals proved their worth: no fiddling with socks or laces, just straight in for a swim. Bintang hesitated at first, but I forced him in. His reaction was sheer joy, the kind of release only a man buried under work can show when he suddenly remembers what life feels like. My Gen Z job spares me that sort of stress, but I’ve enjoyed dragging my millennial friend back into nature this summer.
We pushed on to the summit of Kawanori for a quick bite, then began the enjoyable descent to the Tama River. That’s when the sandals turned on me. In the final kilometer, blisters and friction burns lit up my feet, and every step slowed to a crawl.
At the river near Hatonosu Station, we were greeted by the familiar chorus of American military personnel partying on the rocks. We skipped the scene and headed straight to the onsen, where hot water gave me a brief reprieve before the long, painful train ride home.
A quick online search later revealed the advice for barefoot transition: start with 2km runs, ease into it slowly. Naturally, I chose a 17km run with 1,000m of climbing. Now I’m flat on my back, feet slathered in ointment, paying the price.
