Running to Winter

Today, I went for my first run in a week, bridging the 8km gap between Sansou (staff accommodation) and Hirafu.  For a little under an hour, I experienced rain, clouds, wind and blazing hot sunshine. All the while, two thoughts are going through my head:

a) This hurts.

b) I hope this isn’t radioactive, Fukushima rain.

Truth be told, I went through the classic lows and highs I think all runners experience.  You start off hating it, mid-way through you feel like a hero descended from the Greek heavens and by the end you bask in an exhausted endorphin glow. Let’s get this straight: I do not consider myself a good runner. I clunk through it with heavy legs and short breaths. What I lack in skill and grace, I make up for in perseverance. In the end, it’s all in the name of fitness. I want to ski better, faster and harder this year.

I walk by my ski boots every morning before heading off to my desk job. It’s T-97 days to the ski season; bring it.

Farm right in front of Sansou 

Rainbow excitement

Jump!

A cloud veiled Yotei

Itching to get these back on

A Warm Welcome Back to Japan

When I say "warm welcome", what I really mean is hot, so very hot. It seems backwards that my quest for the never-ending winter puts me back in a summer season, but here I am, melting away in an office.  Winter is only 112 days away. Yes, I am counting.

That’s not to say that I haven’t been enjoying all the bounty of a Hokkaido summer. I’ve been running by fields of vegetables and sunflowers, suspiciously eyeing Mt. Yotei (shouldn’t it be white?).  New friends took me to one of the most breath taking beaches I have ever had the pleasure to visit, where we ate paua straight from the shell, standing on the very ocean floor it had been plucked from. Within the space of 36 hours, I witnessed two “Hanabi” displays to shame the ones we get back home. Why, just last night, I went to a BBQ at my boss’s house, eating local produce and laughing at drunken japanglish conversations. In short, I have been thoroughly spoiled.

I have to say what I have most enjoyed is being truly immersed in the culture, without the distraction of all my fellow foreign friends. I have been invited to more outings than I could possibly attend, attesting to the true acceptance that has been extended my way. Really, it is the moments so out of character for the classic Japanese individual that have been the best. Would you be surprised if I told you they are typically polite, considerate and quiet? How about if I told the story of a middle-aged Japanese man that dropped trou, mid-karaoke belt-out, to break chop-sticks between his, *ahem… buttocks?

Such good fun.

 

Sunflower fields and Hokkaido farms

On a run to the Seven Eleven

Raise your hand if you recognize this resort.

Mt. Yotei, rising from the corn fields.

Niseko Village, hiding behind zucchini blossoms.

Hot air balloon at the summer festival in Niseko-cho.

Display to pay respect to family members no longer of this world.

Okonomiyaki: yum.

Kat-chan: "I am so HAAAA-PPY!"

Hanabi!

Golden hanabi!

Sparkling hanabi!

Red hanabi!

Beach friends!

Shakotan beach, Hokkaido

Finally admitting to not hating summer.

Kat-chan, still singing her happy song.

BBQ at Sato's house

Not sure what we were talking about here. Katsue & Sho.

So many moths. Usually I find them revolting, but this one was gorgeous.

A Return to New Zealand and Learning to be Alone

I check into my hotel for what would be my last night on kiwi soil. After answering a few emails, I head down to the restaurant for dinner and sit a table for one. I take in the tables around me: groups of friends laughing and couples enjoying a quiet meal. I smile at the waitress and ask for the fish.  Fingers drumming on the table, I stare out the window into the inky night. A sigh escapes my mouth and I turn on my eBook. It is the first time I have ever gone for a sit down dinner, in a nice restaurant by myself.

It has been an amazing month. Countless miles were flown to head back to the country I have called home for the last four summers (or winters, depending on your perspective). Friends new and old were greeted; beautiful scenery, sunrises and sunsets admired; experiences discovered and relived. Ironically, I headed back to New Zealand the way I first came in 2009. Alone.

The initial trip was exhilarating and liberating. It was my first time in a new country by myself. I felt scared but free. Since then, I have lived in the US and Japan, experienced four years of consecutive winters and met the love of my life. Coming back on my own, with so much time to think has only served to make me appreciate how unique, exciting and fortunate my life is. Though I have at times struggled, missing my partner fiercely over the last month (I fully admit to random fits of tears), I recognize that I have grown and changed so much since that first trip. Once again, New Zealand has been the backdrop of epiphany.

A special thanks to all my friends who made the trip so memorable; I seriously enjoyed myself. Our paths will surely cross again.

On to Japan!

Dork and Dorker on a crazy Ohakune bike adventure, creepy tunnel and all.

A Niseko reunion in Ohakune with Ralissa, Jim Jam and Baby Bacon

Exploring Turoa, the largest ski resort in New Zealand.

The clouds lifting over Ohakune.

Can you spot the classic kiwi humour?

Selfie with 'Kune's giant carrot

Mt. Ruapehu on the a clear day.

Flying over Tongariro National Park.

The only Remarks return staff. Joke... well almost.

Just like coming home: Single and Double Cone at the Remarkables.

The only Remarks return staff. For real this time.

Sunrise at Cardrona

Not a bad place to break from work.

Skiing the only run open at Treble Cone with Boudric.

Our reenactment of Cats, the musical. No, actually its just Cat Night. 

After a season of scouring japanese shops, who would have guessed that we would find our perfect crews in New Zealand? In case you hadn't noticed, it's definitely meow or never.

Girlies at the Remarks lookout.

Michelle: "Don't do it, you'll die!". Then she did it 30 seconds later.

Life in the Niseko Village Uniform

Seasons in the ski industry are like flings: exciting, uplifting and done in a flash. This one was nothing short of amazing, complete with great snow, friends both new and old and non-stop laughter. Combine all the quirky personalities that can be expected from instructors with the oddities of Japan and you're bound to be in for an epic adventure. 

After ten plus winters in a row, I've found that the nostalgia only increases. Saying good-bye not knowing if there will be another hello is never easy. What has changed has been my appreciation for just how small our world is. I find peace in the fact that there is a very good chance I will bump into all these people again, though likely on a different continent. I am not sad, I'm hopeful.

Until we meet again, friends.

Riding Community Chair, the gateway to beginners bliss.

Coffee in a can, just one of Japan's delights

A few pow turns between emails.

Jo-kun and New Satosh basking in the glory of a morning training session.

Tearing up the corduroy like we're paid to. Oh wait, we are.

New Satosh, killing it.

Nozo, the person we entrust the Kid's Program to.

Office Space: totally Lumberg.

Janglish is always hilarious. Can you figure this one out?

Ralissa-chan. That is all.

Shovelers hard at work.

Where is Pete?

A tidal wave of snow greeting Black Diamond Lodge patrons.

The Tepster clearing his chariot.

Just a reminder that its good to be alive.

The Crew

The Crew in its natural state.