Running Wild Through Tokyo's Redlight District at 4 A.M. | My UK Ekiden Filming Experience in Kabukicho
- Alex
- May 27
- 6 min read
A couple of weeks ago, I had one of the most uniquely Japanese experiences since moving to Tokyo.
At 3:15 am, my alarm went off. By 3:45 am, Sebastian and I were in an Uber heading towards Kabukicho, Tokyo's infamous red-light district.
Stepping out of the car felt like entering another world.
I’d completely forgotten how alive Tokyo still is at 4 am. Hundreds of people filled the streets. Groups moved between bars, couples wandered through the neon-lit alleyways, and people were smoking, laughing, shouting, and sitting on the curb eating convenience store food. For many, the night clearly hadn’t ended yet.
Sebastian and I looked at each other in disbelief. It was chaotic, loud, and full of energy. But at the same time, there was something strangely refreshing about it.
Most people outside Japan picture Tokyo as orderly, efficient, and disciplined. Trains running on time. People quietly going about their day. Salarymen heading to and from the office. But at 4 am in Kabukicho, you get to see a completely different side of the city.
It felt like the guardrails were off. The usual expectations and routines of daily life had disappeared for a few hours, and everyone was just... people. Not workers, students, or business owners. Just people enjoying a night out, making memories with friends, or finding their way home before sunrise.
It was messy, unfiltered, and very human.
All that being said, the UK Ekiden team had chosen Kabukicho at this hour for one simple reason: the light.
As dawn slowly crept over the city, the glow of the neon signs, vending machines, lanterns, and alleyways was still hanging on from the night before. Tokyo feels different at that hour. Rawer. Stranger. More honest somehow.
Running Through Neon Streets With a Tasuki Across My Chest
The setup for the morning was pretty simple.
Run. Again and again and again.
We had Aki as our boots-on-the-ground liaison, Mick directing, and Mark behind the camera. Mick had a camera rig mounted to a bike, so he’d cycle alongside me filming while I ran through the streets of Kabukicho wearing the traditional tasuki across my body.
For those unfamiliar with ekiden culture, the tasuki is the sash passed from runner to runner during an ekiden relay race. It symbolises trust, teamwork, sacrifice, and responsibility. You’re not just running for yourself. You’re carrying the effort of everyone before you and passing it forward to the next runner. I will explain further in the next section :)
So there I was, running through Tokyo's most chaotic nightlife district while representing one of Japan's most respected sporting traditions.
One moment I’d be sprinting past neon signs, taxis, and cigarette smoke. The next, we’d be weaving around groups still partying from the night before. At one point, we passed a group dressed as Naruto characters doing shots in the middle of the street at about 5 am. A few minutes later, there were multiple Spider-Men yelling nearby. We even saw a completely naked Japanese guy sprinting through Kabukicho, which felt bizarrely on-brand for the entire experience.
Then as the sun slowly started rising, the atmosphere began to change.
The bars started emptying. Delivery trucks appeared. Workers emerged onto the streets. The city was transitioning from night to day right in front of us.
But because this was Kabukicho, there was still one final scene unfolding around us. Dozens of couples were wandering from love hotel to love hotel trying to find vacancies for a short stay, only to discover every hotel was completely full.
Watching couples awkwardly shuffle between entrances while we filmed an ekiden campaign in the middle of the street felt surreal.
Only in Tokyo.
The History of Ekiden Running in Japan
To understand why this campaign with UK Ekiden meant something to me, you first need to understand what ekiden actually is.
Outside of Japan, most people have never heard the word before. But here, ekiden is much more than a running race. It is one of the country’s most recognised and respected sporting traditions. Before moving to Japan, I had no idea how significant it was either.
The word ekiden (駅伝) roughly translates to “station relay.” Its origins trace back to Japan’s Edo period, long before trains, cars, or modern communication systems existed. Messages, documents, and information were carried between relay stations spread throughout the country, with each messenger passing their delivery on to the next station. “Eki” means station. “Den” refers to transmitting or conveying something onward.
Over time, that relay concept evolved into what we now know as ekiden racing.
The first official modern ekiden was held in 1917 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Tokyo becoming Japan’s capital after the Meiji Restoration. The race covered 508 kilometres between Kyoto and Tokyo over three days. Rather than one athlete covering the entire distance, teams passed a sash from runner to runner as they travelled across Japan.
That sash is called a tasuki, and it is what separates ekiden from almost every other running event in the world.
In Japan, it is not simply a baton replacement or a piece of fabric. It represents responsibility to the team. Every runner inherits the work of the athletes before them and carries that responsibility until they hand it over to the next runner. The focus is not on the individual. It is on the team. That idea sits at the heart of ekiden culture.
Why Ekiden Matters So Much in Japan
Western running culture often revolves around individual achievement. Personal bests. Rankings. Qualification standards. Ekiden places the emphasis somewhere else.
The conversation is often about contributing to the team and avoiding being the person who lets the group down.
In many ways, it reflects values that are visible throughout Japanese society: discipline, consistency, humility, and collective effort. That is one of the reasons ekiden has remained so popular for more than a century.
If you want to understand its significance, look no further than the Hakone Ekiden.
Held every New Year, the race attracts millions of television viewers across Japan. Entire families watch it together. Grandparents, parents, and children. It has become part of the New Year holiday itself.
The Hakone Ekiden began in 1920 and is contested between university teams over two days between Tokyo and Hakone. Calling it a university race does not really do it justice. The athletes become household names. People know their universities, their stories, and the rivalries that have developed over decades.
The race is also notoriously brutal.
Every year, runners stagger into exchange zones completely exhausted, desperate to hand over the tasuki before their legs give out. The strongest moments are often not the victories, but the athletes pushing themselves to the limit for the sake of the people around them.
After moving to Japan and running in several ekidens myself, I started to understand why the event means so much to so many people here.
My Own Experience Racing Ekidens in Japan
Over the last six months, I’ve had the chance to race three very different ekidens with Namban Rengo, here in Tokyo.
The Okutama Ekiden felt traditional. Wide and winding mountain roads, small local communities, forests, cold air, and steep climbs. It felt deeply connected to regional Japan.
The Shibuya Ekiden was the complete opposite. Fast, loud, and right in the middle of Tokyo. Yet despite the different setting, the focus remained the same. The team came first.
Most recently was the Asics Ekiden around Meiji Gaien. Thousands of runners moving through central Tokyo as teams rather than individuals created an atmosphere unlike almost any other running event I’ve experienced.
That is what stands out to me most about ekiden in Japan.
No matter where the race takes place, it always feels connected to something bigger than the race itself.
Looking back, that’s probably why filming the UK Ekiden campaign resonated with me.
Running through Kabukicho at sunrise wearing a tasuki, surrounded by neon lights, backstreets, and the last remnants of Tokyo’s nightlife, felt like a collision of old and new Japan. A century of modern ekiden racing. Hundreds of years of relay tradition before that. All intersecting in one of the most modern and chaotic parts of Tokyo.
Japan has a unique ability to place tradition and modern life side by side. Ekiden is one of the best examples of that.
To the UK Ekiden team, thanks for everything and for letting me contribute to this fantastic project! And to you, for reading all the way to the end, I love you :)
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