from the world's big
Why Japan's Buddhists run a deadly 1,000-day marathon
Only 46 monks have completed the seven-year marathon since 1885.
- The kaihōgyō — a seven-year, 1,000-day marathon — is among the world's most difficult physical challenges.
- It is rarely completed, and those who fail are historically expected to kill themselves.
- Why do Japan's Buddhist monks take on this nearly impossible challenge?
Many of us have that friend—the one who runs marathons. Their car is plastered with bumper stickers: 13.1, 26.2, "I'd rather be running." Half of the photos on their Tinder profile is of them smiling in the rain with a marathon number affixed to their Lycra shirt. They use their cardiovascular health as a club to bludgeon us undisciplined folks.
If you know somebody like that, you may find it satisfying to know that there is a marathon out there where bragging is very much frowned upon. It's the kaihōgyō, and its difficulty is enough to put even the most ardent ultra-marathoner to shame. The marathon can only be carried out by Buddhists monks belonging to Japan's Tendai sect of Buddhism, and it takes 1,000 days spread out over seven years to complete. Instead of bragging rights, the monks who complete what is likely the most difficult marathon in the world are said to receive a better understanding of the universe.
The marathon's structure
The kaihōgyō takes place on Mount Hei, which overlooks the ancient capital of Japan, Kyoto. The grueling, 1,000-day marathon is carried out over the course of seven years, with a different regimen each year.
For the first year, a monk must run 30 km each day for 100 consecutive days. On top of this, they must still perform their regular temple duties, leaving very little time for sleep. Endo Mitsunaga, the most recent monk to complete the challenge, would wake up at a bit after midnight, lace up the straw sandals he was required to wear, and run up and down the mountain, stopping to pray at about 260 different shrines along the way. At 8 a.m., he would return and perform his duties at the temple. Each night, he slept about 4 and half hours.
As Mitsunaga ran throughout the mountain, he would also pass by a number of unmarked graves. These, along with the knife at his side, were reminders of the seriousness of kaihōgyō. At the end of the first year — the first 100 days — a monk is permitted to withdraw from the challenge. If, however, they decide to embark on the 101st day of the marathon, they are no longer permitted to stop. If they fail, tradition demands that they take their own lives. Mount Hei is littered with the graves of monks who failed to meet the challenge; none, however, date from the later than the 19th century.
If the monk chooses to continue, the next two years go on much like the first: 30 km per day for 100 consecutive days, praying at shrines throughout the mountain, and taking care of their duties at the temple. Then, for the fourth and fifth year, the monk must run 30 km per day for 200 consecutive days. Here, a little bit after the midpoint, comes perhaps the most difficult aspect of this practice.
Flirting with death
After completing the fifth year of the marathon, the monk must perform the dōiri, a grueling nine-day ritual. Fortunately, it doesn't involve running. Instead, it's a light and breezy nine-day period forgoing food, water, and sleep. The monk must sit in a temple at Mount Hei and recite a mantra nonstop. To make sure the aspiring monk doesn't fall asleep, two other monks watch him.
Keep in mind that the longest anybody has ever gone without sleep is about 11 days. As if this wasn't enough, the monk must also go fetch water from a well 200 m away at 2 a.m. each night, not to drink, but to offer up to a statue of the Buddha Fudō Myōō.
If the monk manages to pass this ordeal, then they can begin the sixth year of kaihōgyō. For 100 consecutive days, the monk must run 60 km. In the seventh and final year, the monk must run 84 km everyday for the first 100 days, and then the practice winds down to just 30 km a day for the rest of the year. By the end of the seven years, the monk has run about a distance that equals the circumference of the Earth.
A Tendai monk wearing the traditional kaihōgyō garb. Notice the thin sandals the monks are required to wear during their seven-year marathon.
The insane mental and physical commitment that it takes to complete kaihōgyō puts it squarely among the most challenging tasks in the world. In fact, it's so challenging, that only 46 monks have completed the challenge since 1885.
The enormity of the task begs the question: why? You don't even get a bumper sticker at the end of it.
Most runners train for their marathons, but with kaihōgyō, this principle is inverted — the marathon itself is instead training for the monk in order to attain enlightenment. The demanding physical and mental tasks associated with kaihōgyō are meant to instill an understanding of the body's and self's transient, empty nature.
During the nine-day period of dōiri in the middle of kaihōgyō, the monk symbolically dies (and comes pretty darn close to death anyhow). After emerging from this state of pseudo-death, they are reborn, a clean slate with a new understanding of the temporary nature of life and the self. Ultimately, the goal of kaihōgyō is to train monks in how to lead others into enlightenment as well.
Ever since we've had the technology, we've looked to the stars in search of alien life. It's assumed that we're looking because we want to find other life in the universe, but what if we're looking to make sure there isn't any?
Here's an equation, and a rather distressing one at that: N = R* × fP × ne × f1 × fi × fc × L. It's the Drake equation, and it describes the number of alien civilizations in our galaxy with whom we might be able to communicate. Its terms correspond to values such as the fraction of stars with planets, the fraction of planets on which life could emerge, the fraction of planets that can support intelligent life, and so on. Using conservative estimates, the minimum result of this equation is 20. There ought to be 20 intelligent alien civilizations in the Milky Way that we can contact and who can contact us. But there aren't any.
Frequent shopping for single items adds to our carbon footprint.
- A new study shows e-commerce sites like Amazon leave larger greenhouse gas footprints than retail stores.
- Ordering online from retail stores has an even smaller footprint than going to the store yourself.
- Greening efforts by major e-commerce sites won't curb wasteful consumer habits. Consolidating online orders can make a difference.
A pile of recycled cardboard sits on the ground at Recology's Recycle Central on January 4, 2018 in San Francisco, California.
Photo by Justin Sullivan/Getty Images<p>A large part of the reason is speed. In a competitive market, pure players use the equation, <em>speed + convenience</em>, to drive adoption. This is especially relevant to the "last mile" GHG footprint: the distance between the distribution center and the consumer.</p><p>Interestingly, the smallest GHG footprint occurs when you order directly from a physical store—even smaller than going there yourself. Pure players, such as Amazon, are the greatest offenders. Variables like geographic location matter; the team looked at shopping in the UK, the US, China, and the Netherlands. </p><p>Sadegh Shahmohammadi, a PhD student at the Netherlands' Radboud University and corresponding author of the paper, <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2020/02/26/tech/greenhouse-gas-emissions-retail/index.html" target="_blank">says</a> the above "pattern holds true in countries where people mostly drive. It really depends on the country and consumer behavior there."</p><p>The researchers write that this year-and-a-half long study pushes back on previous research that claims online shopping to be better in terms of GHG footprints.</p><p style="margin-left: 20px;">"They have, however, compared the GHG emissions per shopping event and did not consider the link between the retail channels and the basket size, which leads to a different conclusion than that of the current study."</p><p>Online retail is where convenience trumps environment: people tend to order one item at a time when shopping on pure player sites, whereas they stock up on multiple items when visiting a store. Consumers will sometimes order a number of separate items over the course of a week rather than making one trip to purchase everything they need. </p><p>While greening efforts by online retailers are important, until a shift in consumer attitude changes, the current carbon footprint will be a hard obstacle to overcome. Amazon is trying to have it both ways—carbon-free and convenience addicted—and the math isn't adding up. If you need to order things, do it online, but try to consolidate your purchases as much as possible.</p><p>--</p><p><em>Stay in touch with Derek on <a href="http://www.twitter.com/derekberes" target="_blank">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DerekBeresdotcom" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://derekberes.substack.com/" target="_blank">Substack</a>. His next book is</em> "<em>Hero's Dose: The Case For Psychedelics in Ritual and Therapy."</em></p>
Chronic irregular sleep in children was associated with psychotic experiences in adolescence, according to a recent study out of the University of Birmingham's School of Psychology.