Day 90: End of the line

I will start writing this final post in Japan, but it won't be finished until I am well beyond its borders.

At this moment I am sat on a Russian plane waiting for the last passengers to board before we push back and I make my first brief stop on the long way back home; Moscow.

Sadly, it will only be a fast transfer. I won't get a chance to visit.  Perhaps another time. But my final destination today will be Warsaw, where I will spend a 10 days before continuing on.

As I sit here, with the plane now slowly taxiing to the runway, I am left with a lot of memories and thoughts about my time in Japan. 

When I arrived three months ago I had such different plans for my time here. I had a detailed plan for a long mountain route following the Tokai Shizen Hodo, an intensive hike with long periods of isolation and plenty of nature around me for days and weeks at a time.

I came prepared for lots of camping, lots of hiking, and plenty of time in the woods. A pack filled with appropriate gear to give me everything I might need to survive the hike.

I had researched and prepared my route planning as best I could, with plenty of information about where I could resupply, places to rest and points of interest if I wanted to take scenic routes and detours.

That plan became obsolete far faster and more permanently than I had ever expected.  

My career thus far has taught me that plans never survive contact with reality.  Plans change and you adapt to reach your goals along the way.  I didn't get more than 25km before reality killed my plan.

Summer lingered far longer than is usual in Japan this year.  Temperatures were supposed to be in the high 20's or low 30's by the time I arrived in September, but instead where topping out at 45°C. 

Stubbornly I pushed ahead, and climbed into three mountains north of Osaka. I felt that I could manage with a slower pace until I reached a higher elevation where the temperatures were sure to cool. 

After a full day of hiking I had found myself at the summit of the first mountain.  My legs were jello, my lungs were burning, and most importantly/concerningly, I was literally drenched in sweat.  I had drank ~5 liters of water that day and barely urinated. 

I setup camp for the night off the trail in a small  clearing. The heat has not broken despite the significant elevation change.  I was still surrounded by a thick, humid forest, alive with the sound of monkeys, birds and countless insects.

The climb had left me exhausted, and I ate poorly, as my shopping had not provided with great options for that night. I sat in my tent to escape the ants and mosquitos, stripped down to my underwear, and proceeded to lay there and sweat until well after midnight, unable to sleep for the heat.

There was real peril already. And I needed to think carefully about how I was going to proceed.

I spent that time in my sweaty prison doing the math. How much more water I would need to be finding and filtering to hope to stay hydrated, how much slower I would be going with the heat sapping my energy significantly, how much more food I would need to carry to compensate for the slower pace, and how much harder it would be with those extra kilos of food and water on my back.

When I woke the next morning, well before sunrise, I had a decision to make.  Push forward and hope to find enough water on the trail, and risk dehydration and heat stroke, or turn back to Osaka and wait for the heat to break. 

Given I was hiking solo, on a trail that does not see a lot of traffic, I couldn't ignore the real dangers I would be placing myself in if I kept moving forward.  With a heavy heart and a fair degree of personal disappointment I turned back, retracing my steps down the the mountain.

Weary from the day before, a small misstep lead me to stumble as I decended, and in my attempt to catch myself, I would aggravate a knee injury suffered prior to the trip, one that I had hoped healed by then, but evidently was not. 

The rest of the hike down was spent limping, glad to have my hiking poles for support.  I would arrive at Minoo still soaked in sweat, having never dried from the roevuosu day, and smelling extremely of ammonia.  

I was pretty low. 

It would take two weeks for the heat to begin to recede into the mid thirties, and I was lucky to have a comfortable place to stay while I waited. 

But the wait being as long as it was, at into my planned rest time significantly. My original route was ~900km, and I anticipated it taking me ~60 days of hiking to cover it, accounting for my lacking in physical endurance.  This would mean that, by the plan I would have ~30 days of rest to scatter into the hike as needed. 

With the heat pinning me down in Osaka, I lost a great deal of that time, and to follow my original plan would be almost impossible.  I would have to to with far less rest days, and I knew that even with my relaxed pace of ~15km a day, that erosion of my rest would be crippling.

As the days ticked by in Osaka I looked at alternative plans, finally and agonizingly abandoning my intricately planned route in favour of loosely following the ancient Tokaido, and planning my route a day or two in advance.

This wasn't the hike I had planned, or dreamed about.  Gone was long communes and camping my way through the back country and sleepy farmlands of Japan. 

What lay in front of me was a true adventure, as each day would be unplanned and where I went was up to me. My routes were loose, and I was free to wander as I pleased, exploring whenever something caught my eye.  I was not a slave to my plan any longer, and I embraced this unknown, snaking my way along the southern coast slowly and happily.

It would take me 8 weeks to travel the ~600km from Osaka to Tokyo. The much flatter coastal route made travel easier, and the predominantly urban surrounding removed a great deal of risk and logistics. 

The strain on my body was also much more manageable. I had planned for 15km a day, but quickly found my endurance improving. It wouldn't be long before I was doing 25-30km in a day. These improvements to my physical condition and dramatic increase in pace left me with more days off to spend where I pleased. 

While at first I felt guilty about abandoning my mountain route, as though I had failed myself, those feeling melted way and the feeling of being on the road and exploring the towns and cities along the way replaced it.

I would take long breaks in big cities, and many tiny breaks of a day or two in smaller towns, constantly walking and exploring.  

To my surprise, even on my days off inward clocking a lot of kilometres. I was shocked to look at my GPS at the end of the day to find that I had walked 15 or 20 kilometres that day just poking around the city. 

By the time I reached Tokyo, midway through November, I had covered what I estimated to be at least 1000km on foot. By the time I arrived at Narita airport today, and after looking at my GPS data, I was at ~1250km walked on the trip (+/-50km). 

If I were to measure success simply by kilometres travelled, then this trip would be a huge success by that measurements alone.  I had expected to cover less than 1000km on my original route.  So any shortcomings i may have felt about taking a different route were erased upon seeing that number in my calculator.

...

When I was 15, I suffered a serious injury, temporarily losing the use of my left leg, destroying a vertibrae in my spine and having it replaced with a section of my hip.

I had to learn how to walk again, and rebuild my body to function after months in bed, immobile.  It was a long and painful process, and while I regained the use of my legs (more of less, the left one suffered irreparable nerve damage), the pain would never leave me.

Over the years I would experience ever worsening back pains, and each new doctor would tell me that there was little that could be done as they could see nothing they could fix.  I was simply stuck with it.  Lost nights of sleep eventually grew to attacks of pain so severe that midnight trips to the emergency room became common place, as there was nothing I could do to stop the now mind-altering pain I was struck with at unexpected times.

The pain would sow a distrust of my body in my mind. As the pains continued to worsen with each passing year, distrust turned to fear. Without being able to understand the cause and trigger of my pains, I grew fearful and felt fragile in my own body.  I retreated from myself, and in doing so neglected my fitness slowly.

It wouldn't be until I was 38, some 23 years later that the true source of my pain were finally uncovered; gallbladder blockages from stones in my gallbladder.

The funny thing about gallbladder pain is that is quite often presents like back pain.  And the funny thing about having a spine stitched together with titanium is that docotos stop looking for other reasons why you might be feeling back pain when they see that on a chart. 

With this diagnosis, and a change in my eating patterns, i have have almost no pain in over a year.  Suddenly I realized that I wasn't the fragile being I thought I was.  This was why I wanted to walk.  To give my body the chance to be and grow and enjoy moving again. 

...

But the success of this trip is more than just pushing an odometer.  This trip was always about person growth as much and starting the repair of years of physical neglect.

Along the way I have been fortunate to meet sonant wonderful people and make new friends along the way.

Takanori, my first host in Osaka, who made me feel comfortable and welcome. He showed me hospitality far beyond that of a hostel owner.  He has since started a new business, buying an aesthetics academy in Osaka, and I wish him all the best fortune in his new venture.

Maca and Noeli, two Chilean travellers, in Japan on a working holiday visa. They made me feel welcome in Kyoto, and made the Hanakanzashi a warm place to stay, always there to chat and share stories at the end of each day's adventure.  They have moved on to Hokkaido for the winter season now. I hope that Maca enjoys the snow, and that Noeli finds a way to survive it!

Mandy, the American teacher Nagoya who opened her home to me during a typhoon. We shared stories of our childhoods, and our mutual passions for gaming. I was fortunate to spend a week with her, and then again second weekend in Tokyo after my trek concluded.  She taught me a lot about courage and determination, and seeing her passion for games helped me remember a lot about why I love to make games.  We talked often while I was on the road, and we grew close despite the ever growing distance.  There is a place in my heart for Mandy, and I hope our paths will cross again soon.

Sinem, the world wandering law student who I met in Kyoto, only to discover that she was a fellow Canadian, with plans to move to Calgary in the new year.  Watch her travels on social media after we sorted ways has been a treat, and I look forward to meeting up again back home to share our stories from the road. 

Minoru, a random runner who passed me on a perilous mountain road, took the time to warn me of what was coming, and when he eventually caught up to me on his return trip, took time to walk and talk with me for a time, soothing my frayed nerves.  I gave him a small Canada flag pin, and he would find me later with gifts of his own.

I have met so many people here that have been kind to me, guided me, taught me and helped me learn about myself. Meeting each of these people have been a unique and life changing experience, each seemingly on my path to help point my vision in a new direction.

I have always struggled to make friends, despite being able to hold my own socially.  I've never felt able to quite fit with other people, never quite able to work like them, think like them.  I don't hold the delusion that this trip has changed that in me, but it has allowed me to step outside myself for a while, and see things differently, fit differently for a while. It was refreshing to simply be, and think less about how to fit in, how to blend.  I was conspicuous every moment I spent in Japan, so there was no point of trying to blend.

But even beyond the distance walked, or the people met and I held dear, this trip helped me grapple with the main issue that has plagued my mind for the entire year; my career. 

At the beginning of 2019 I was unceremoniously kicked off of my team after leading it for nearly 3 three years, and killing myself (too literally, as many hospital visits can attest) in the process of trying to keep things running. 

What was the crucial error I made? The reason for being tossed out like trash? No clear reason was given, no significant issues to point to, no serious infractions commited that could be outlined as due cause to justify the removal of the director off of his project. Vague reasons about 'concerns for my health were floated', which was laughable as firing me would remove my access to healthcare in the UK and leave me with a long wait before I would once again beeligable back home, due to being an expat for so long.

And the timing, only 7 weeks before the end of my UK work VISA, a VISA promised to be renewed months prior, left me with very little space to mount a legal fight before I would be forced to leave the country.  And that legal fight? Extremely expensive, likely going to last a year or more, with no guarantees of success and the certainty that the relocation budget  promised to me was held hostage contingent on not fighting.  

I had to leave.

I needed the money to get home.

I had been fucked.

It was incredibly hurtful, and done with such a complete lack of scruples, forcing me into such a position after giving so much for so long, that I was angry and burnt out.

I had to pack all of my things and prepare to return to Canada with extremely short notice. I had to get a lawyer and fight my former company, out of pocket just to have them pay my relocation expenses as they promised they would when tossing me aside.  

Plans were made in haste, as a deadline to leave the country was thrust upon me unexpectedly.  Expenses were paid out of pocket until finally getting the bare minimum from my former employer. 

Left behind were many friends and colleagues I respected, designers who I had the privilege of seeing grow in their skills and guide in their careers, and a project I had poured my heart and soul into shaping but was denied the ability to finish.

I did not know what was next. I took interviews, but soon realized that despite many opportunities, I was not fit for duty. I was a mess mentally and felt no excitement for any of the projects I was offered, where normally they would have all had my head spinning with possibilities. 

This drove me to walk across Japan more than anything else.

I needed time to evaluate if I really wanted to put my sanity and creative passions on the line again. Did I want to risk being screwed over again? Did I even have the spark to light a new fire and lead another team?  I didn't know. 

But over these past few months I have come to understand that there is nothing I would rather be doing with my career.  I have once again affroens that and that I am, and always will be, a designer.

To my mind there is a danger in being defined by ones career, becoming little more than the work you do to survive. Yet, despite that known danger I feel that being a game designer is inescapable. My career is a manifestation for my biggest passion in life, and walking away from it out of frustration, anger or exhaustion would only leave me with a sorrow and regret that I would never be able to set down.

My path back to development from here is still not clear.  I hope to be able to find time to write more and put together a book first before taking on a new project. 

While I never planned to write this blog, it became a tool of necessarity to keep everyone back home informed that I continued to live. Along the way it reminded me how much I enjoy writing for myself.

When I do return, you can be certain I will be part of a game development union.  I cannot allow myself to be so vulnerable, to allow myself to have so little defense when someone up the food chain from me decides they need to look important and powerful at my expense.

I also will take forward the lessons learned for joining my last studio.  I will take my time in the search for my next role, I will heed the red flags when they arise rather than excuse them and hope for the best, and I won't take something out of fear and desperation, as that only leads to a lot more suffering down the road - evidently.

Instead, I am bolstered by a better understanding of myself. I am confident that I am fit for purpose and that I have a fantastic career still to pursue.

Sometimes walking can do you good. So it stands to reason then that a LOT of walking will do a LOT of good, and I am inclined to agree.

The pilot says we are approaching Moscow now. Time to buckle up. 

Catch you on the flip side.