[This is my first post in an attempt to write daily every day of my 11 day summer break.]

I’ve been jogging the 950m circuit at Besshonuma Park the last few weeks. I had always wanted to, but I moved to the area when COVID was already a thing, and they only just recently stopped asking everyone using the park to wear a mask. The jogging course is a loop around a oval shaped lake. One side is by the road, and the other side has grounds where people can meet and kids can play.

On work days, I would usually jog around 5:30 or so, and on holidays, perhaps around 7:30. A few days ago, for the first time I jogged at the magical time of 6:30.

There were always a large amount of older people in the park, but when I was rounding out my first lap in the park around 6:25 the other day, I would’ve bet there were about 400 people there, the majority of which being over 70. It was obvious that this was a regular if not daily occurrence for most, because they were in groups, chatting with one another. Couples were slowly making their way to the main area greeting people along the way, while others were shouting gleefully once they noticed their friends coming. Meanwhile, us joggers were just trying to avoid everyone on the path. For the other joggers, this also seemed like a regular occurrence.

From 6:30, Radio Taiso began. The familiar piano melody starts through speakers which have a crackling that for whatever reason always make me think of a long past fascist regime. One older guy leads the way, two young children follow along way too close to him, and then hundreds of older people throughout the park follow along as well, doing the motions in unison. Some have more gusto than others, but all are doing it with no youthful self-consciousness. As I continued jogging, I noticed some were barely within earshot of the instructions, and some were even outside of earshot, away from crowds and alone, going through the motions from their comfortable distance.

I jog to the roadside of the park away from everyone, and as I loop back, I see that Radio Taiso has already finished. The conglomeration of older people were now happily and loudly chatting with one another, and I thought the scene seemed infinitely more happy and cool than young folks hanging out in Miyashita Park in Shibuya.

Some people started to head back home (making the jogging path packed), and a small group of about 30 went elsewhere in the park to do some Tai Chi with others who were waiting for them to come. A large majority however, seemed to just loiter and enjoy the hot summer morning.

As I loop around again away from everyone, my mind wanders to think about the difference in generations, and how their Japan and my Japan coexist, but are so incredibly different. My mind wanders to the exotic Japan that Japanophiles in Western counties love or hate, and how this scene would confirm or deny any of their presumptions. Finally, my mind wanders to 50 years ago when these people were around 20 years old. Did old age make them congregate like this, or was it something that their generation always did?

When I was young, I thought that as I got to my parents’ age, I would act like their generation, and when I got to my grandparents’ age, I would act like their generation, but I don’t think it turned out to be true. It feels like I am always acting the same. How 40 year olds acted like 20 years ago is now how 60 years old act, how I acted 20 years ago when I was 18 is amazingly similar to how I act now, and from the perspective of someone younger than me, how I acted at 18 is how someone in their late thirties would act.

I try to flesh out this idea as I do another loop jogging, panting more than before, seeing less and less people, as more and more have decided to go home. I see some inconsistencies with the idea, and some truth in it as well. Eventually I stop jogging and the hundreds who came for Radio Taiso leave my mind. I sit down to gaze blankly into the lake in the middle of the loop, lamenting how I didn’t jog as much as I wanted to, and feeling how the breeze under the tall trees was much more refreshing than my air conditioner is at home.

I go home and start my day, just as everyone else in the park has done.