What's important is to move forward more than running (The Kishida Family's Report on Participating in the Honolulu Marathon)

Even though they haven't run, the Kishida family looks satisfied.

I moved forward little by little and crossed the starting line at 5:37.

"Oh"

Running. My younger brother is running.
Yay! That's great!
The tension that had been building up inside me was suddenly released.

It's still dark around.
Run as if you're going to greet the dawn. Like an airplane.

Here we go!
Kishida family, fire!

"...Huh?"

My younger brother disappeared.

I sat down and rested.
I haven't even run one kilometer yet.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

I ran and turned back.
Why should I turn back during such a tough marathon?

I grab my younger brother and start running again.
but.

My younger brother sat down far behind.

"Ryota, are you okay?"

My mother screams.

My brother ran. He ran to the extreme.

No good.
They think a marathon is a sprint or something.

As expected, I soon got tired and stopped moving again.

I wanted to hold my head in my hands.

Who would come all the way to Hawaii and not run? Well, I guess he would, but still...
I thought I would run because everyone else was running.

At that moment, a loud cheer was heard from the opposite road.

The top runners had already turned around. They were moving so fast I couldn't believe my eyes.
He ran away like the wind.

As for us...

This is already the 30,000th event out of 30,000 participants.
It's the very last place.

Suddenly, I became scared and embarrassed.

What should I do? I might not be able to reach the goal.
I came all the way to Hawaii.
There are people who support us.

I can't believe I'm walking so slowly like this.

"Ryota, that's amazing! So cool!"

My mother was cheering on my brother with her hand like a megaphone. My brother stood up, not seeming to mind.
It rose.

No way...

"Let's flatter each other! That's the only way!"

My mother knows my little brother well, as he loves to be praised.
Will things work out somehow? I'm just anxious.

The sky is beginning to lighten.

Dawn has broken.

The cheers and music from before can no longer be heard.

After stopping and walking, I finally reached the 3km mark.

I had heard that the Honolulu Marathon had great support from the people along the route, but there was no one there. It was very quiet.
And I was very sad. We were too late.

Then, I heard music in the distance.

Volunteers at the water station welcomed us with loud cheers.

He was waiting for me!

"Ganbare!" "You can do it!" A mix of Japanese and English cheers were sent out on paper tapes.
They throw me balls like balls and slap me on the back.

My depressed mood instantly improved. It felt more like a real dawn than a dawn.

"Wow."

My mother was surprised. Then she noticed that my younger brother was walking ahead of her.
It's the first time I've seen this formation in 28 years.

To others it seemed natural, but to our family it was a miracle.

This might work.

Two and a half hours have passed since the start.
We walked and walked and reached the 4km point.

Most of the people have already reached the finish line.

Finally, the traffic restrictions were lifted.
As the car drives off down the road, we step onto the sidewalk.

We continue on, stopping frequently to check the map.

My younger brother sat down, saying his legs hurt.

This is my first time walking such a distance.
My body is also starting to wear down.

My mother's hands, which she used to pedal the wheel, also began to develop hard blisters.

So, I rubbed it and somehow managed to get by and decided to go.

5km mark. I'm half way there.
A smile unintentionally spreads across my face.

"Yay! It's done!"

My brother raised his hands.

"It's not over yet."

It hurt my heart to tell him that, but honestly, I thought it was all over.
Then, I feel an immense sense of relief just knowing that I've reached the halfway point.

From here on out, it wouldn't be strange to retire anywhere.