Rundefeated

Running while on holiday has become my most reliable ritual. No matter how tight the itinerary or how tempting the hotel bed feels, I always pack my running shoes. Tokyo was no exception. Jet lag, cold weather, and convenience store snacks at midnight couldn’t stop me. As usual, the first thing I did after locating the nearest coffee shop was opening my map and asking the most important travel question of all: where can I run without being hit by traffic or side-eyed by locals?

My Airbnb was near Sugamo Station, an area that feels quietly residential, far from the neon chaos of Shibuya. I wasn’t looking for anything famous or Instagram-viral. I just wanted something nearby, calm, and preferably green. That’s when I found Rikugien Garden—a traditional Japanese garden tucked neatly between city streets, like a secret that Tokyo forgot to hide. At first, I thought, a garden? For running? But curiosity has always been a runner’s best training plan.

I arrived around 9 a.m., when the temperature was still a crisp 2 degrees Celsius. Cold enough to make your fingers question your life choices, but perfect for running once your body warms up. The entrance fee was 300 yen—cheap by Tokyo standards, and honestly cheaper than most running events that give you nothing but a bib and emotional damage. Paying to run felt strange at first, but one step inside and I immediately understood what that 300 yen was buying.

Rikugien is stunning in a very quiet, very Japanese way. No loud fountains, no motivational signage screaming about personal bests. Just a traditional garden layout, crystal-clear ponds reflecting the morning sky, carefully trimmed trees, and bridges that look like they belong in a samurai movie. Running here didn’t feel like exercise; it felt like trespassing politely through history, hoping not to disturb anyone’s Zen.

The running surface was another pleasant surprise. No harsh asphalt, no unforgiving pavement. Instead, the track is a combination of small gravel and soil—soft enough to be kind to the knees, but firm enough to keep your pace honest. The loop itself is small, roughly around 5K, which means no pressure, no navigation stress, and no excuses. You just run, circle by circle, surrounded by beauty instead of traffic lights.

Because the track is short, you start noticing details. The sound of gravel under your shoes. The steam of your breath in the cold air. The occasional walker who looks at you like you’re slightly crazy for running when everyone else is calmly strolling. But that’s the beauty of it. You’re not racing anyone. You’re not chasing a Strava crown. You’re just moving, quietly, respectfully, inside one of Tokyo’s hidden green pockets.

Rikugien Garden reminded me why I love running while traveling. It’s not about distance or pace—it’s about discovering places in a way most tourists don’t. For 300 yen, I got a peaceful morning run, a cultural experience, and a memory far better than any souvenir magnet. If you ever find yourself near Sugamo with running shoes in your bag and curiosity in your head, Rikugien is absolutely worth it—even if it means paying to run.