Japan's Brilliantly Weird New Meme

If you’ve recently seen a man sprinting sideways across your timeline like a particularly motivated crab, don’t worry, your algorithm isn’t broken. It’s just Ooba Katsunori, also known as Ooba Kamon, the researcher responsible for turning Edo-period running techniques into one of Japan’s unlikeliest viral sensations. His Instagram reels have already racked up more than 13 million views, proving that nothing captures the modern Reiwa imagination quite like a historically accurate ninja shuffle.

Screengrab of Ooba Katsunori demonstrating Edo Period running styles (right, image via Instagram)

Who Is Ooba Katsunori?

Ooba Katsunori has spent the last decade researching how people actually moved in the Edo period. While most academics work quietly with archived texts, Ooba prefers a more kinetic approach that includes heading outdoors, rotating your body sideways and reenacting a 17th-century postal courier blazing down the Tokaido.

Since 2014, he’s dug through historical paintings, ukiyo-e and old manuals at the National Diet Library, meticulously piecing together walk and run forms like nanba (where the same-side arm and leg move together) and the lesser-known sideways yoko-hashiri. His videos are made in earnest and created to be educational, but the Internet went ablaze with how quirky and unintentionally hilarious they are.

The Science Behind Edo Period Running Techniques

In interviews, Ooba explains that many Edo-era techniques rely on not using much muscle at all. By relaxing the body, keeping the head level and rotating the arms and legs inward and outward rather than front to back, runners could conserve energy and reduce strain.

He’s even held workshops across Japan, including Nagoya and Osaka, for anyone striving to learn how to move like an Edo period commoner.

Why ‘Edo Hashiri’ Is Going Viral

The breakout clip of the Edo Hashiri trend shows Ooba demonstrating a sideways run inspired by descriptions of ninja movement. Positioned in a half-body stance, he lifts his arms outward, cartoonishly rotates his limbs and glides in a frictionless crab-run that feels both scientifically sound yet unmistakably comedic.

The internet, naturally, lost its mind.

Comments include everything from “I’ll use this to dominate office corners” to “This is my new commute technique” to “I tried this in soccer and immediately got yelled at.” One viewer swore it would improve their base-stealing rate. Another pledged to use it when running their next marathon. People across social media platforms have been posting their own recreation of the Edo run, such as comedic trio Gerradon’s skit of cafe staff running the nanba-style shuffle.

But beneath the humor lies genuine fascination. Many viewers are shocked to learn that Edo runners didn’t pump their arms; they used rotational movements and gravity to accelerate. Others appreciate that the technique reduces knee strain and works even on mud, sand or snow — making it arguably more practical than the modern sprint.

And Ooba isn’t stopping at viral fame. His goal is to establish a historically accurate, scientifically validated model of Edo running — something that could be preserved as cultural heritage for the next century. He’s even planning to test the method on a full Edo-to-Kyoto run to trace the famous Tokaido route. Sideways.

If he pulls it off, it may become the most committed piece of historical research Japan has seen in a long time.

For now, though, Ooba Katsunori’s biggest achievement is giving the world a precious gift: the knowledge that people in the Edo period ran weird for real, as well as a good laugh.