Cherry Blossom, Kami-Suwa

We arrived late at night, exhausted, at this small town in Japan. Got no sense of the place from the dark train window, or the short taxi ride. I woke early to a dull gray day, and found a map in the room – we are right on a lake – decided to run.

Stepped out after a quick cup of Green Tea – low clouds and a sharp wind cutting to the bone, as I set off on a path by the lake. Cold. I soon realize this is a winter wind – we are some 3000 feet up, and spring is probably not here yet! I take shelter running in narrow streets, deserted, the occasional morning stroller huddled in layers of woolens. About to turn back, I come up to the local palace – just a Lord’s House, I find later. A Moat surrounds the wall – inside, I find a truly perfect garden. Cherry trees in full bloom, a pond, rocks and a pebbled beach. Groomed to perfection. It is raining, now, but in this Zen Garden, the rain drops line up, and fall with geometric precision.

Later, when my Customer took us to lunch at their Club House, walking thru a hillside of pine trees, it started to snow, incredibly, the Gods not having checked Internet Weather, and we walk uphill, wondering if sunshine and snow gets us a snowbow.

A bright crisp dawn wakens me early – this really is the Land of the Rising Sun. I set off around the lake in bright sunshine, a cool, clear day, ducks quacking happily, crows feasting on early worms. I can see right across and around the lake, it is a delightful morning, Japanese perfection in evidence all around, as I turn into the gentle wind and set off. Politesse abounds. One woman has a strained expression as I near her; she says ‘Good Morning’. I wish her ‘Ohaiyo Guzaimasu’, and silently thank her for the effort.

Running over a bridge, I realize I am looking at snow capped Mt Fuji. I bow and ask Fuji-san to give me …….. wisdom …….. patience? Fuji-san has to figure out what I need most. Stronger knees, to be sure!

Pheidippiddes is at the Gates of Sparta in my current book. Modern man runs for a different reason, but the opportunity to reflect, and to get in touch with nature, ones’ surroundings, body and mind is the same.

Cherry Blossom trees in full bloom ring the shore. Some near white, some almost pink. Lush blooms. School girls in uniform and the layered socks that are in fashion. Father and daughter setting off in a kayak.

The run seems to lengthen – I am stretched – have not run this far since my injury. Other runners overtake me, as I tire. At last! I am back, and stretching on a grassy bank. Tourists and locals taking pictures by the Cherry Trees. Spring has arrived today.

The Dish, Stanford

Rolling hills behind the campus. Several very large satellite dishes at the top. Green and lush, after the plentiful rains this winter brought. The path around The Dish is some 4 miles long. Difficult because of the seemingly endless climb, and then the almost precipitous down to the entrance.

It is cloudy and cool this spring morning. A light drizzle as I run on Stanford Avenue to warm up, then set off uphill. First really difficult run since the accident. In the past, I have challenged myself to run the dish without slowing to a walk. Mind over matter – the trick is to focus on little achievements. Get to that trail marker just 50 yards away, then think of stopping to catch your breath. Keep going. Trick the sniveling organism.

I soon see the Stanford Campus laid out below. Lights blazing over the games fields. Red tiles. Did Leland ever walk up here, contemplating where the main quad should be? Did he vision 21st century achievement stemming from his university, feeding the creativity of The Valley? Low clouds over the East Bay, but it is clear to the North, and I can see the tall buildings of the San Francisco Business District, in the far distance.

As I turn to the West, Portola Valley is below me. I hear the rush of traffic on 280. A visiting poet said The Valley is a Wasteland. Endless stretch of homes and offices. I wish I had him with me today. That sound is a river of creativity, bringing driven souls to the center of my universe. To create the next iPod, to dream up The Next Big Thing. Infinitesimally small companies daring to dream. Products and concepts conceived from coffee and guts. This is not a wasteland – it is the fountain of youth!

I chug on, as I run past the big dish at the top. Hulking over the path, clouds swirling behind, like The Beast, with a rose clutched to his hand. A pleasant old woman runs past, smiling hello. I pick up speed as I crest the top, and exult in the thrill. I can run again! I see Dumbarton in the distance. Soon. I will run over that bridge. I will run and breathe and think and rejoice. And I’ll see my product at Fry’s.