Fujisan: Gambatte Kudasai!

From a purely physical perspective, the climb up Mt. Fuji does not pose overwhelming difficulty. My boss, a marathon runner who climbed Fujisan in some sort of record time (3 hours), describes it as "more difficult than a half marathon." Indeed, the total round trip distance for the trek is just under 14 kilometers, which is only 8.7 miles. That's considerably less than a half marathon, and not even close to a full marathon. So surely anyone with a modicum of physical fitness can make that hike. Well, there is that 6000 foot altitude change and the relative hypoxia. That makes it more difficult, but still not insurmountable.

Nevertheless, most people find this outdoor adventure quite daunting. Why is that?


Just like a Jedi master, Fujisan plays mind tricks. You think you are close to the top, when you are not. You think the terrain is a gradual incline when it's really quite steep. You think you've gone an hour since your last break, but it's only been ten minutes. Or you think you've been climbing for only ten minutes and then realize its' been an hour.  Approaching the top, you seem to never get closer no matter how many labored steps upward you take. On the descent your mind sees the level terrain constantly receding, no matter how far down you go. You can even tend to believe you'll never ever get off that mountain at all.

Climbing Mt. Fuji presents more of a mental than physical challenge. No matter your level of physical fitness, you have to be smart and mentally tough to complete it. That means planning ahead to bring the right clothing, supplies, food, and water; but not to weigh yourself down with excess. You must know the route, and have a plan well thought out. What's the weather forecast? What if it's dark before you get back to 5th station? Might be a good idea to have a light source. It's a lot like flight planning. A good, thorough plan improves the probability of a successful and more enjoyable flight. 

On the other hand, you could not plan at all, like the Australian couple whom we encountered beginning their ascent just at dusk, with no light, wearing only shorts and tee shirts, and Keds vice hiking shoes. They admitted a spontaneous decision to just start climbing on the spur of the moment. Perhaps they also succeeded. Perhaps they have a different brand of mental toughness.


A welcome result of the mental challenges, climbing Mt. Fuji becomes a social event as well. The other climbers know what you're experiencing, especially if they encounter you going up as they descend. You build a camaraderie with your fellow stalwarts, often repeating the same mantra-like conversation: 


"Konnichiwa." 

"Gambatte kudasai!" 

"Arigatou gozaimasu."

Gambatte kudasai, means something like "Good luck," "Don't give up", "Hang in there," or most fundamentally, "Try your best!" I heard the same phrase often during the Tokyo Marathon, and it very nicely reflects the Japanese perspective on events that require mental toughness to complete. The Japanese believe that the effort is more important than the result.

So we did not finish the round trip to the Mt. Fuji summit in record time, or even in the time we planned. But we did finish it, and because we thought ahead we did have light for the final half of the descent after nightfall. We not only completed the physical challenge, but won the mental battle as well. The satisfaction of completing the effort overshadowed the actual result.


So as we descended we could rightly proclaim to new climbers who planned their trek in the dark to reach the summit at sunrise, "Gambatte kudasai!"