Combining Enthusiasm

Japan is a land of people doing stuff. Stuff that you may do, like ride trains and iron clothes and buy drinks out of vending machines. Stuff that you may not do, like take a picture of everything under the sun with your camera phone – today’s event was the gaudiest red Christmas Tree known to man, parked outside of the Hep Five building in Umeda, and meriting pictures because it was a) sparkling, b) occupying a space usually taken up by listless teenagers, and c) behind a sign saying “CHRISTMAS FESTA LIGHT 2006,” indicating it was seasonal thus igniting the Japanese love for all things that are seasonal and fleeting. Catch it while you can.

Most of the things that people do in Japan, however, involve mountains. You can ride a train up a mountain, like the clunky Kobe Dentetsu that runs from my town through such pain-in-the-ass mountain valleys that fares have been hiked up appropriately. You can climb Mt. Fuji and still get a drink from a vending machine. A friend can tell you he or she lives “just up the hill,” but since you come from a place that is pretty damn flat, it might feel like you’re going up a mountain. You can even have no intention to go up a mountain at all, as a friend of mine did while innocently trying to get a nice view of autumn leaves, and wind up hiking anyway.

Extreme sports happen on mountains. I fancy myself a snowboarder, though the only “extreme” in my snowboarding would probably be limited to the creative cursing I’m able to spew after clearing snow out of my mouth and before checking for broken bones following yet another face-smash into the snow. I like to think I’m cooler than skiers, but that’s not because I’m actually coordinated, it’s because the majority of them are wearing matching jacket-trouser combos that are so fresh out of the 80s that I’m worried the clothes will sing their own monster ballad. I may walk easier in my soft snowboard boots, but should one of those skiers lurch my way in their hard boots, they could certainly shatter my knees with little effort.

The Japanese also like to combine things, like tastes (yam + ice cream, grapes + green tea, pumpkin + Kit Kat), and experiences. Why settle for one thing when doing two at once could be even better? Specifically: why iron your clothes at home when it is so much more fulfilling to iron them on top of a mountain? 

Yep, it’s extreme ironing, “the latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt.” While it’s not taking Japan by storm, it certainly made the Japan Times, and has a in-country spokesman and avid ironist in one Mr. Hitoshi Matsuzawa.

“You might say there’s just no point in this,” Matsuzawa said one recent Saturday morning in Yoyogi Park in Tokyo. “But I want to tell you, ‘just do it and you will understand.’ “

For beginners, he recommends starting with ironing on the balcony at home to get to know the feeling of pursuing such pressing business in the fresh air.

Interestingly, Matsuzawa said that the act of ironing like this amid nature’s raw elements gives a feeling of fulfillment and calmness that is the secret attraction of the sport.

I found it interesting that Mr. Matsuzawa picked up his “background in ironing” through a homestay in Australia with a family of “keen ironers.” I now call on the Aussie readers to offer explanation. Also fabulous in the article are the photos of guys on bike, irons in hands, zooming past an ironing board with a shirt laid out on it, and taking swipes as they pedal past. This is another thing to see in Tokyo – the ironing practice in Yoyogi Park.

If you have an interest in some Extreme Ironing, feel free to check out the Japanese webpage, or go ahead and find some extreme ironists closer to home.