The temperature climbed past 30 degrees in May.

The morning was thick with humidity. The moment I stepped outside, sweat began to bead on my skin. This wasn’t the weather you’d expect in May. The phrase “abnormal climate” crossed my mind. And yet this heat was real—I felt it directly on my skin.

I didn’t run this morning

I woke at six, as usual. Normally, I’d be getting ready for my morning jog. But not today. Tomorrow, I’m heading to Thailand on business. My destination is the Amata Chonburi Industrial Park, just outside Bangkok. With a week of work ahead, I spent this morning preparing.

Checking my luggage. Organizing work documents. Confirming hotel information. There’s always a stack of little details before a business trip. Did I forget this? Did I pack that? The mental checklist just keeps spinning. Even after all these years, this pre-trip feeling never changes.

Without the run, my body felt a bit restless. And yet—there’s a lightness to it. From the moment I woke, I felt ready to move. That’s different from before.

This is work, not sightseeing

Let me be clear about this: the trip to Thailand isn’t for tourism. It’s business. A business trip.

I’m not heading to central Bangkok. My destination is Amata Chonburi Industrial Park in Chonburi Province—a massive industrial zone where numerous Japanese companies have established operations. It’s one of the key hubs supporting Thailand’s manufacturing sector. Most people visiting Bangkok for tourism probably don’t know this place exists. But this is where Japanese business actually happens.

I probably won’t spend much time walking the streets of Bangkok’s entertainment districts. That’s what a business trip is.

And I’m fine with that. I actually find it fulfilling. To travel overseas for work. To still be in that kind of position at 56. That’s not something to take for granted.

At 56, heading out with good spirits

I’ll be honest: before I hit my fifties, I believed that’s when the body starts to decline. Looking around at others, I just absorbed that impression somehow. There were periods when I did feel tired more easily.

But now, at 56, my body moves. I can travel for work. I can do my job overseas. More and more, I wake up and think, Let’s go. I’ve come to realize, lately, that this isn’t something to be taken for granted.

Fermented foods have always been part of my meals. Nukadoko pickles, miso, natto—that’s just my normal way of eating. Running is something I’ve been doing since my forties. Neither is extraordinary. Both are habits I’ve woven into my daily life over the years.

I believe those accumulated habits are what built the body I have now. The way fatigue lifts is different. The freshness I feel in the morning is different. The way my digestive system works after a meal is different.

Fermented foods harmonize my gut, and that creates equilibrium throughout my whole body. I feel this every day.

Tomorrow, to Amata Chonburi

Tomorrow, I’m off to Thailand. I’ll land first at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi International Airport, then head to Amata Chonburi. It’s about an hour and a half drive from the airport.

Amata Chonburi is a large industrial park in the southern part of Chonburi Province. Development accelerated in the 1990s, and now companies from Japan, Europe, and across Asia have operations there. As a manufacturing hub, it holds significant weight in Southeast Asia. It’s far from any tourist destination—but real business happens there.

The purpose of this trip is technical guidance and education around service and professional development for the Japanese staff working locally. There are Japanese people working at the various Japanese companies clustered in Amata Chonburi. There are things I need to convey to them directly, face-to-face. Email and online meetings can’t carry the full message. I need to be there in person, look them in the eye, and talk with them. That’s the real meaning of this trip.

A business trip to Thailand in this season takes a physical toll. In May, Thailand is on the edge of the rainy season, and temperatures often reach around 35 degrees Celsius. And here I am, finding 30 degrees in Tokyo “hot”—the heat there will be harsher still. But I’m going. It’s work.

Thailand has fermented foods too

While work is the main purpose, there’s something else I’m quietly looking forward to: tasting Thailand’s fermented foods.

Thai cuisine is known for nam pla—fish sauce. It’s a liquid seasoning made by fermenting fish in salt, and it has a distinctive umami and aroma. It’s used in almost every Thai dish, and it’s truly fundamental to Thai food culture. A fermented seasoning at the very heart of the cuisine.

There’s also kapi, a fermented shrimp paste. Shrimp is salted and left to ferment, and the result is used as a base for curries and sauces. It plays a role similar to miso in Japanese cooking.

Beyond that, Thailand has regional fermented foods all across the country. When you visit local markets or food stalls in smaller towns, you encounter things you’ve never seen before. Some are close to pickles, others are fermented fish pastes. Southeast Asian fermentation culture has evolved along its own unique path, different from Japan’s.

Just like Japanese fermented foods, these are products of long food traditions. Change the climate, and you change the ingredients, the fermentation methods, the flavors that emerge. That’s what creates regional distinctiveness. When I step into a food stall near the industrial park, I want to look at the food through that lens.

How to prepare my body the day before a business trip

The day before a trip, I don’t do anything special. I just live as I normally do. I think that’s the best approach.

For meals, I chose foods that are easy to digest. Rice, miso soup, nukadoko pickles. Simple, but it centers my body. I have no interest in eating lavishly at a restaurant before a trip. I want my digestive system settled before the day ahead.

I made sure to get sleep a bit earlier than usual. The time difference is only about two hours, so that’s not a major concern. But the travel and change of environment do tax the body. I want to depart well-rested.

I paid attention to hydration too. Having been out in heat above 30 degrees, I sweated more than usual. By keeping my gut balanced with fermented foods and maintaining hydration, I maintain my condition. That’s how I prepare my body at this stage of life.

Business travel in your fifties and your stamina

It’s different from when I was in my twenties and thirties.

Back then, I could push myself hard and bounce back by the next day. But in your fifties, the exhaustion from travel lingers into the days after. Long hours on a plane. The change of environment. The intensity of work on location. These things accumulate and gradually wear on you.

So now, even during a business trip, I’m conscious of what I eat and how I sleep. What will I eat locally? Will I be able to sleep properly? I move forward thinking about these things.

With fermented foods, I try to include them as much as possible during the trip. Dishes made with nam pla. Things made with yogurt. They’re not the same as Japanese nukadoko pickles or miso, but they’re fermented foods all the same. Keeping my gut in balance helps me maintain my condition throughout the trip.

A business trip in your fifties is something you navigate while caring for your body. That old style of pushing through on sheer willpower—that’s behind me now. I move with dialogue between myself and my body, at a pace that doesn’t overreach. That’s what I’m committed to.

Asia for the first time. But fermentation will surely be there

Actually, this is my first business trip to Asia. I’ve been to Europe and North America for work. But Asia is new to me. Thailand is new. Bangkok is new. Amata Chonburi is new. Everything is new.

Because of that, there’s something I’m genuinely curious about: the fermented foods of Thailand.

From what I read before leaving, Thailand has nam pla—fish sauce. It’s a liquid seasoning made by fermenting fish in salt, and apparently it’s used in most Thai dishes. When I learned it plays a role similar to Japanese soy sauce, I felt a kinship. Both are seasonings that draw umami through fermentation. Whether the source is fish or soybeans, the underlying philosophy is the same: use fermentation to create deliciousness.

There’s also kapi, a fermented shrimp paste, I’m told. Shrimp salted and left to ferment, used as a base for curries. I read it plays a role close to miso in Japan.

This first trip to Asia, if I can encounter the fermented foods of the region, that could be a significant discovery. If there’s a food stall near the industrial park where local people eat, I’d like to go in. Not a tourist place—somewhere in the daily eating habits of people who live there, the wisdom of fermentation is embedded. If I can find a moment during work to step into such a place, that would be wonderful.

At 56, gratitude for being able to travel overseas for work

Let me write this one more time.

At 56, I can travel overseas for work. For me, that’s not something to take for granted. My body works. My mind works. My job works. All three aligned, and that’s why this trip exists.

I’ve eaten fermented foods daily. I’ve run several times a week. I’ve kept it up over many years. That accumulation built the body I have now. Because my body is in balance, my work flows forward. Because my work flows forward, my days are full. This positive cycle supports me at 56.

In Amata Chonburi, I’ll work well. I’ll talk with the people there, see the factories, confirm things with my own eyes and body. That’s the purpose of the trip. To stand there not as a tourist, but as someone doing my job. That’s my role now.

After I get back, I’ll run again

When I return from Bangkok, I’ll run again. If my body is in good shape, I might be able to run even the day after I get home. I’m looking forward to that as I prepare for tomorrow’s departure.

Fermented foods and exercise—these two things are my axis. I’m learning to use my body in my fifties with care and intention. That’s my theme now. Tomorrow I leave steamy Tokyo—where May has brought 30-degree heat—for the tropics of Amata Chonburi. Both are hot, but it’s a different kind of heat in each place. At 56, I’ll embrace the heat in both.

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This isn’t a vacation. It’s work. At 56, I’m ready to go.

※ This article is based on personal experience and publicly available information. It is not intended to diagnose, treat, or prevent any disease. If you have health concerns, please consult a doctor or registered dietitian. See our Disclaimer.