Seeds and Sweat

I've just returned home from my first deliberate exercise session since being in Japan. I say deliberate because I'd rather forget the times in August when I naively rode my squeaky bike around Kakamigahara in 35-degree heat and 90% humidity in pursuit of a sightseeing experience. This latest physical exertion has resulted in what I predict will be a very sore hamstring muscle by tomorrow, a few scratches and a bedroom floor littered with prickles and seeds. Sound interesting? You too can have such an experience, merely by venturing out for a jog along any creek or rice-paddy in Japan. I decided it was too complicated to ride my bike half an hour to the nearest gym, sign up, and go through a 2-hour induction session in a foreign language simply to get my heart rate above 100 beats per minute. Why do that when there are several perfectly-good gravel paths (albeit a little overgrown with grasses and weeds) just a couple of blocks from my apartment? Anyway, after observing several old ladies walking their tiny dogs and eliminating the possibility that I might be trespassing onto some Japanese farmer's land, I decided to start my first jog. Half an hour and several laps of the same stretch of gravel later, I finally felt like a human being again instead of a lazy lump of gaijin flesh. Nevermind the hundreds of seeds that had attached themselves to my lower limbs, the red welts on my arms from who-knows-what weird and wonderful plant, or the suspicious glances from little old Japanese farmers' wives taking their daily constitution...