Race Start Day!
May 25, 2026
It was finally here.
Race Day.
After months of planning, spreadsheets, strategy discussions, and wondering if we had completely lost our minds, the Shinkansen Scramble had officially begun.
We checked out of our hotel that morning and shifted into race mode. Or at least, we tried to.
My backpack weighed in at 20 pounds, which seemed reasonable at the time.
Narrator: It was not reasonable.
We walked about twenty minutes from the hotel to the starting venue, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as racers checked in from all over the world. We received our race materials, including the coveted red envelopes containing the checkpoint information.
There was just one problem.
Even though we had them in our hands by 10:30 a.m., we weren't allowed to open them until noon.
It felt like the world's longest countdown.
So we waited.
We grabbed water, chatted with other racers, and FaceTimed our families. It was so nice seeing Grace and Nicole before everything officially started. There was something grounding about hearing familiar voices before diving headfirst into an adventure that was about to become wonderfully chaotic.
Then noon arrived.
James kicked off the race, and just like that...
We were off.
Ali and I made our way to the train station, red envelopes open, brains spinning as we tried to figure out the best strategy. We debated routes, compared point values, and convinced ourselves we had a solid plan.
And then, because apparently the universe wanted to keep us humble, we got so wrapped up in strategizing that we missed our stop.
By the time we realized what had happened, we'd overshot it completely.
Forty minutes.
Gone.
It wasn't exactly the confident start we'd envisioned.
After regrouping, we decided to commit to a southern strategy. We'd head toward Hiroshima and use one of our mandatory rests immediately, earning five points upfront. The idea was that tomorrow we could tackle the southern checkpoints with rested bodies and a clearer plan. Given that we'd already walked eleven miles the day before, our tired feet were fully on board with this decision.
Of course, train delays had other ideas.
What should have been a carefully timed strategy ended up pushing our sixteen-hour rest much later than planned. Instead of getting an early start the next day, we didn't officially begin our rest until 7:00 p.m.
That delay would seriously impact tomorrow's plans.
But there wasn't much we could do except adapt.
So we did what any sensible racers trying to minimize backpack weight would do.
We went shopping.
Did I buy K-pop merchandise in Hiroshima?
Absolutely.
Did I also buy souvenirs?
Of course.
Did any of this help lighten the twenty-pound backpack I was carrying across Japan?
Not even a little.
In fact, it added more weight.
At the end of our first official race day, we had already learned one important lesson:
No matter how carefully you plan, the Shinkansen Scramble has plans of its own.
And somehow, despite the missed stop, the delays, and the increasingly questionable decisions involving merchandise purchases, I couldn't stop smiling.
The race had finally begun.
