The Ajimu Circuit

Bamboo clinks in the wind as I skirt around a few fallen branches that have fallen into the uneven road in the woods. The trees are finally returning to their comforting green and the newly planted rice fields shine in the warm sun. A few birds call out near the Shinto shrine on the hill and an old lady in her garden shouts “ganbatte” to me as I go running by. I’m following my usual running route around town that takes me up into the hills before I head through the heart of town and then back home.

My shoes crunch on some gravel and I lose my footing near a crosswalk where a passing car honks and all I see is a smile on an unidentified face and a waving hand. An orange carp in a shallow pool is startled by my shadow while two little boys on bikes manage a “herro” followed by gurgley laughter.

A lady in a uniform returns my “konnichiwa” as she sweeps the front entrance to a pachinko parlor where colorful flags are whipping in the wind. A little dog wearing a blue vest barely acknowledges my passing as he sits proudly in his owner’s arms.

I turn a corner and follow the main street past the high school where students in uniforms are scattered in little groups all along the way. Some smile, some laugh, most at least say my name to their friend while watching me run by. For a few moments my pace quickens and I dodge in and out of the students who are leaving and loitering around school.

My legs ache a bit as I begin the final kilometer and I tell myself I cannot stop. An old lady with a cane stares and then smiles when I breathlessly wish her “konnichiwa” and a car coming out of an alley stops suddenly to let me pass. I turn towards my apartment, looking out across the rice fields to the green hills beyond, and push myself to finish.

I pass a building and hear my name called out by someone from an upper window. As always, excited laughter follows the “Jaasuten” and this time, the phrase “nice run” is added too. I pour my remaining energy into my body and go hard for the last stretch.

I run and run and slowly stop, my eyes closed in both agony and joy. The wind blows over me carrying the smell of flowers and I wipe my forehead on my shirt. I turn into my apartment building parking lot and wave to the junior high school students who are practicing soccer in the field next door. I stretch my legs and catch my breath and remember all the runs I went on back home. My body feels good after the exertion and I reflect on what a perfect track Ajimu Town makes.

As I walk back inside, taking my shoes off at the door, I feel a longing for home mixed with a sense of contentment at being here in Japan. I’ve found that there is no place quite like home, but there are places that can become familiar refuges in this world…and those places can be called home for as long as we live in them.