The Last Day of Her Competitive Career, and the Future

The milestone tournament took place in Tokyo in 2021. The result was a bronze medal.
“My last international tournament was hosted by my home country, so the expectations and support from those around me felt stronger than usual. I think I was feeling pressure on a level that I could not fathom. I could hardly sleep two whole days before the qualifying round.”
In a darkened hotel room, Noguchi panicked and struggled alone. This was the first time in her athletic career that she had been this nervous. Despite the heaviness of her body, she cleared the qualifiers. Relieved, she was able to sleep soundly at last. Two days later, it was the finals. What was the final day of her athletic career like?
“I spent the day reflecting that each and everything was happening for the last time. The most memorable moment of the day was when I won the medal. When I was done with my turn and as I waited for the results to come in, I looked back on the challenges and was full of regrets thinking I could have climbed more or I should have done that. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. This is still lingering, even now, a few days after the tournament. So being in such mindset, it caught me by surprise when I found out my ranking.”
Frustrated that she could have done more, relieved that she won a medal, overwhelmed with sadness that her competitive career was coming to an end—all emotions came overflowing, she said, and tears followed suit.
“Another memorable moment was when I returned to the hotel and my coach and team were waiting for me. I had been feeling awful because we had been striving for the gold medal all this time. I was worried that it was going to be an awkward moment. But seeing everyone happy and being reassured that ‘it’s not the color of the medal that matters,’ I felt a sense of relief.”

It was three days after the tournament that she was able to see her family.
“I wanted to put the medal around my father’s neck, so I had snuck it into my pocket on the road home. My mother sobbed when she saw I put it around his neck, and my father looked tickled pink. That evening, my father noted that ‘Akiyo’s first world competition was at 16 and she came in 3rd place. You began and ended in the same color.’ I thought this was something only my father, who had watched me from day 1 of my competitive career, could notice.”

A passage from Akiyo Noguchi’s autobiography, Me and Climbing, reads as follows:
When I started competing in the World Cup, I carried so many responsibilities. For example, if I don’t compete, no one from Japan would participate, I have to spread the word about climbing. But now, I am no longer concerned about pulling out of the competition, not one bit. I have observed the strength and high awareness of the young athletes through competing in Japan and abroad. Many will be able to responsibly lead and bring the climbing scene in Japan to new heights.

The baton has been passed on to the next generation. And even though Akiyo Noguchi will no longer be competing, her challenge is not yet over:
“My passion and feelings for climbing have gotten stronger. There is so much I want to do—promoting the climbing scene, learning how to coach, and challenges on boulders outdoors.”
Unwavering, she will continue to look up at the wall.
“The wall carries all of the answers to what I have done in the past. What to pursue and master, and the feeling to strive for. What kind of results do I want to make, and when. Everyone finds answers by facing and looking up at the wall—this is the same for everyone.”