San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
ULTRAMARATHONER DEAN KARNAZES WANTS TO RUN AROUND THE WORLD.
Last month, in between winter showers, ultrarunner Dean Karnazes strapped on a hydration pack and a pair of thick-soled running shoes and set out from his home in Marin County, headed south. Twenty-five miles later, having crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, he padded into The Chronicle’s headquarters in downtown San Francisco. Oddly, he wasn’t sweating.
Fun fact about Karnazes: The legendary ultramarathoner and best-selling author doesn’t sweat.
Another fun fact: When running through urban areas, Karnazes rarely gets held up at traffic signals.
“I’ve got good light karma,” he says.
The 56-year-old pro athlete estimates he’s put more than 100,000 miles on his legs. That includes marathons on all seven continents, at times in extreme climates, as well as a stint where he completed 50 marathons in all 50 U.S. states on 50 consecutive days. He once ran 350 miles in 80 hours and 44 minutes, without sleep.
And, somehow, after all that, his knees don’t bother him when he wakes up in the morning.
“I don’t feel it, but it’s gotta take a toll,” Karnazes says.
Karnazes’ origin story is the stuff of lore. On the night of his 30th birthday, after a round of Tequila shots at a bar in the Marina district, he had an epiphany: The corporate career he’d been pursuing was a hollow endeavor. He decided he was going to go for a run.
“So I walked out of the bar … set my sights on Half Moon Bay and drunkenly ran off into the night,” Karnazes says.
He stripped down to his silk boxers and Reebok sneakers and got going.
“I started sobering up around Daly City,” Karnazes says. It was then, coming over a hill overlooking the peninsula, that his desire to pursue running took root.
“It was one of those moments where the stars were out, the sky was crystal clear, SFO was in the background, I could see the planes taking off,” he says. “I was on this rural country road, and it was kind of misty. The eucalyptus had those drips coming from them. It was real pungent, and I just felt so alive. I’m like, ‘God, I miss this. I miss the struggle and being out there.’ And that night changed the course of my life.” Karnazes didn’t look back. More than two decades later, ultrarunning has evolved from a marginal activity to a mainstay in the adventure sports arena — in large part due to Karnazes’ influence. With the support of sponsors like the North Face, Karnazes paved the way for today’s crop of elite endurance athletes to carve lucrative careers out of the sport.
Karnazes’ next project: running a marathon in every country on the planet, in one year.
“I mean, why not?” Karnazes says.
It’s not clear when exactly he’ll start; he’s working out the funding and logistics.
While at The Chronicle office, Karnazes sat down with Travel Editor Gregory Thomas for a podcast conversation that covered a range of subjects, from his role in U.S. sports diplomacy to his method of physical recovery. Here are a few excerpts from that conversation:
This could be somewhat counterintuitive, but sometimes I let myself sustain a stressedout state, physiologically. So I don’t try to recover. I ... deprive (my body) so it can grow stronger, I think. That’s my theory: Your body adapts to the load placed on it. So make it hurt, make it not recover, and then after an event when you can recover, indulge.
Everything and nothing. That’s the beauty of ultramarathoning. You’re free. Think about our everyday lives. We’re bombarded with noise … and you can’t really think for yourself in these environments. When you run on a trail, in nature, you’re free, so you can wander — your mind can wander. I think having a relationship with nature is so important. And I think 99 percent of America has no relationship with nature.
In a lot of the smaller villages, I was big news. Like, that was the biggest thing that happened that year. People had never met an American, let alone seen an American live, and here I come. I guess I don’t represent the typical American, but I’m just running down the street, highfiving them. They were just like in shock, like: Hold up, this guy’s going to touch me? They’re looking at me like I’m some sort of deity and I’m just running.