My Daikon is Bigger Than Yours

Back to my favorite school way up in the mountains, where they held their annual Daikon Marathon. For those who don't know, a daikon is a long, white radish indiginous to Japan which also happens to be a symbol of masculinity among JETs who possess an eight-year-old's sense of humor(That is to say, all of us) and which has NOTHING to do with running or marathons.
I was late in handing in my application, which, for anyone else, would have caused problems. However, being a gaijin, it only seemed to make me more exotic. And that, friends, is the wonderful thing about being a gaijin-anything you do can only amplify the other-worldliness about you. You can do anything, and you'll never lose your gaijinity. You can even make up words, like gaijinity.
It has a downside, though, because there are standards, set long ago by the first foreigners coming to Japan off the black ships, to which all gaijin are set. It is widely believed that we are naturally superior at looting, pillaging and other cardiovasular activities, and therefore good at marathons.
In keeping with this stereotype, I signed up for the longest and most difficult course in the marathon-a good 16 km run, which, I later realized, was also a good 10 mile run. It is also widely believed that gaijin are inferior in(or simply apathetic to)mathematics.
Losing 100 pounds does something to a man. Since then, I have become dangerously overconfident, tackling tasks which I would have never attempted three years ago. This was one such occasion, and one in which I learned a lot.
The race started off ok enough; we all ran down the track, cheered on either side by people with more common sense than to run themselves. My students, bright-eyed and admiring, ran alonside the track, shouting my name until I and the other runners were well out of view. Deep into the mountains we ran, iPods in our ears, the spirit of the Great Daikon in our hearts.
I run two miles every morning. It's how I lost the weight. I can do this. I am Gaijin.
By the fifth kilometer I realized the extent of my gaijin powers, the extent being five kilometers. But what could I do? To turn back would mean disgrace, but to go forward meant almost certain death. I trudged on, head down, hoping against hope to meet a bear or a ninja and so end my life without shame.
By the tenth kilometer, old people were passing me, and I was wheezing worse than they were. I pressed on, however.
And came in second-to-last.
I actually don't care. I finished the marathon. I ran FIVE TIMES my normal distance without stopping(much),and even though I didn't win the daikon, I got a nifty certificate with my name and a PICTURE of a daikon. And that, readers, is what REALLY matters.
Yeah, right.

What I Learned:
16 km = 10 miles
the word "gaijinity"