For Haru. For Her Father. For Herself.

Obihiro sits at the heart of the Tokachi Plain in eastern Hokkaido — Japan's northernmost island, and one of its most quietly extraordinary places. The land here is flat and wide, farm after farm stretching to the horizon, the Hidaka Mountains rising to the south on clear days like a distant promise. In summer the fields turn green and gold. In winter they disappear entirely under snow.

Hotaru runs through all of it.

The Place

Most runners seek dramatic terrain — mountains, coastlines, famous urban circuits. Hotaru runs the routes outside the city where there are more farms, forests and open spaces. She chooses the quiet over the spectacular.

But it is winter that she loves most.

Temperatures in Obihiro can drop to minus twenty degrees Celsius. The roads ice over. The snow absorbs the sound of everything — traffic, voices, the world — until the mornings become impossibly quiet.

“I used to hate winter running because it felt brutally cold and miserable. But once I started noticing how beautiful the scenery was, everything changed. The winter landscape takes my breath away.”

Now she genuinely enjoys it. The cold strengthens her core as she balances on icy roads. The silence gives her space to think. The seasons move through her body — not on a screen or through a window, but on her skin, in her lungs, in the specific weight of winter air at six in the morning.

“Feeling the seasons change on my skin is one of the privileges of being a runner.”

Kilometre 27

In 2007, Hotaru was a student at an English language school in Hawaii. She had signed up for the Honolulu Marathon. So had her friend Haru.

They had not planned to run together. They simply found each other at the start line.

They ran the entire 42 kilometres side by side.

At kilometre 27, Haru's back began to hurt. He kept saying: go ahead, you'll be better off without me. Hotaru refused. They had come too far together. Without him, she says, she would not have made it that far herself.

They crossed the finish line together.

“After the race, he kept telling me: if you keep running, you'll become a better runner and a stronger runner. So I kept running.”

Haru passed away following his battle with cancer. He has been gone for six years.

Over time, running became something else entirely.

“Running became my therapy, my meditation, and my happy place where I organize my thoughts.”

Hotaru still hears his voice when training gets hard.

“Every step I take and every distance I conquer belongs to him as well.”

When Hotaru was young, her father ran every day. When she started junior high school, he wanted her to join the track and field club. He believed she had the potential.

She chose softball instead.

“I think it was just a teenager thing. I didn't want to do what my dad wanted me to do.”

He never pressured her. He supported her in softball without complaint. But she knew. She always knew.

Years later — long after school, long after everything — Hotaru and her father ran a 100 kilometre race together.

“In a way, it feels like I finally fulfilled a wish he had for me all those years ago.”

Some things arrive later than expected. They arrive anyway.

Why Not Try Triathlon?

Eighteen years of running. Twenty-five marathons. Fifteen half marathons. A 100 kilometre ultra.

And then, somewhere along the way, the running world began to change.

“Some of the runners around me had become very competitive. Regardless of my intentions, I often felt judged. My running world was starting to feel a little toxic.”

One day a thought arrived without warning: why not try triathlon?

There was one problem. Hotaru could not swim.

“I'm a rock in the water. I don't even know how to float!”

She had been saying it for a decade, every time a local Ironman athlete suggested she give it a try.

But something had shifted. She started swimming anyway. She entered a local aquathlon race. She struggled. She kept going.

Then her husband came home one day with a road bike that was perfectly her size.

“I think he knew I was going to become a triathlete before I did. He gave me no reason not to try.”

Her mantra, the one she has carried for years, finally had a new application:

“You'll never know until you try.”

What Each Sport Taught Her

Running, she says, has taught her kindness. Time management. How to find beauty in nature. How to push through discomfort and listen to her body.

Swimming has taught her patience. Learning to swim as an adult is not like learning to run. The progress is invisible for a long time. She improved far more when she focused on technique rather than distance — a lesson that running had never needed to teach her.

Cycling?

“I'm not there yet. But strangely enough, cycling has actually improved my driving skills. I'm much more aware of the road and my surroundings now.”

Castle Hill

From 2006 to 2012, Hotaru lived in Townsville, Queensland, while completing her degree at James Cook University. The city sits on the edge of the Coral Sea in North Queensland, tropical and exposed, the kind of place where the sun arrives without warning and the air smells of salt and eucalyptus.

Rising from the centre of the city is Castle Hill — a pink granite monolith, heritage-listed, the backdrop to Townsville's entire skyline. From the summit you can see Magnetic Island across the water and the Coral Sea stretching beyond. The trails are rocky and technical, carved into granite and loose stone, demanding in the heat and completely rewarding at the top.

Hotaru ran it every day.

“Castle Hill was my daily running route, my training ground, my mentor, and my therapist.”

It is also where she met her husband.

If she could run anywhere in the world, she says without hesitation, she would go back to Castle Hill. With him.

What Comes Next

Hotaru wants to become an Ironman.

She wants to do it in Australia.

“Australia helped shape the person I am today. I spent six years in Townsville going through many challenges that made me stronger and more resilient. So if I become an Ironman, I want that moment to happen there.”

The woman who once called herself a rock in the water is now training as a triathlete. She has completed multiple aquathlons and continues to improve in all three disciplines. She is not done.

Haru told her she would become a better runner if she kept going. Her father watched her run a hundred kilometres. Her husband brought home a bike without being asked.

The people who believed in her — before she believed in herself — were right.

She is still finding out how far she can go.

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Hotaru Handa — Obihiro, Hokkaido, Japan Runner · Triathlete in Progress · 18 Years Running · 25 Marathons · 100km Ultra Finisher

Instagram: @little_hochicla