I have seen some threads on this guy but didn't click them. Why do some of you hate him?
Thursday, April 7, 2005
For former Triton, this is no run-on sentence
JEFF MILLER
Register columnist
Today starts with a confession: This column is a woeful failure, coming up pathetically short in its attempt to paint a man's portrait.
But it's not our fault. Honest. The problem is, to accurately illustrate Dean Karnazes, this story would have to make reading "War and Peace" as easy as scanning the menu at an In-N-Out Burger. Depicting this runner's essence in words would require all the space in this newspaper.
And three more newspapers.
And the Encyclopedia Britannica, A to L.
Maybe M and N, too.
Dean Karnazes, in short, goes long. Very long. Ridiculously l----o----n----g.
To understand just how long, start on the 55, then take the 91, then hit the 15. Here to Las Vegas. Karnazes has run that far. In one stretch. And when he starts running, everything is stretched.
Day becomes night becomes day again. Single strides become multiple miles. A race becomes a 262-mile journey, through the desert, over the hills, into a man's very being. Karnazes has traveled all the way to his soul on nothing but his soles.
"I think in our society, we've thought that if we have every comfort available, if we avoid pain, we'll be happy," says the former San Clemente High runner. "We're so comfortable, we're miserable in a lot of ways. I never feel more alive than when I'm really challenged and really struggling to do something."
Like winning the Badwater Ultramarathon, a 135-mile highway to hell across Death Valley in which runners must tread on the pavement's white lines or risk having the bottoms of their shoes melt off.
Like completing The Relay, a 199-mile race meant for 12-person teams, by himself. Karnazes has done this - seven times.
Like running the Napa Valley Marathon in 3 hours, 15 minutes, after running 100 miles to reach the starting line.
So about now you're wondering, is this guy insane? Or just crazy?
He's neither, actually. He's a 42-year-old husband and father of two, a business owner in San Francisco and one of the best ultramarathoners on the planet.
He recently has appeared on David Letterman's show and "60 Minutes" and written a book detailing, among other things, how he can eat a large pizza without breaking stride, how he manages to continue running while asleep and how he once jogged around the world - naked.
Sure, that last one was just a prank. After finishing a marathon at the South Pole (OK, maybe he is slightly insane), Karnazes and a colleague stripped down to their boots and high-stepped around the barber pole there, circling the Earth at its smallest circumference. Not impressed? At the time, it was minus-40, cold enough to make Prestone Popsicles.
He has been at this for 12 years, since the night he turned 30 and, feeling less than fulfilled with life, drunk at a party in his honor, he left, removed everything but his jockey briefs and undershirt, laced up his yard-work sneakers and took off running.
The next morning he called his wife, Julie, and asked if she would pick him up. He was at a 7-Eleven, 30 miles away.
"I can think of worse things to do," Karnazes says, "when you're that drunk."
That was a rebirth, Karnazes again discoveringrunning and the primal joy of feeling your sweat bead up. He now runs up to 120 miles a week, bikes and windsurfs. He does 400 sit-ups, 200 push- ups and 50 pull-ups - twice a day. His 5-foot-9, 155-pound frame carries 4.8 percent body fat, about the same as a marble statue.
Karnazes is to multitasking what George Washington is to the $1bill - its cover boy. On long runs, he'll carry a cell phone and a PDA, making calls and answering e-mails, a 9-to-5 stiff going 10-to-15 (miles) just to get loose. He wrote much of his book on the run, dictating into a recorder.
Then there is his ability to eat and sleep, yes sleep, without stopping, significant talents when running 262 miles - the equivalent of 10 marathons back to back - a challenge Karnazes completed last fall in three days.
During one of his 199-mile runs, he consumed 28,000 calories, including a pizza, a cheesecake, three giant beef burritos, a Slurpee and a bag of Doritos. "This diet," Karnazes writes, "is not to be emulated."
Like you on a couch, he occasionally dozes off, his eyelids doing what his feet refuse to do, take a break. Unlike you, however, he faces the real possibility of drifting into oncoming traffic.
"It's spooky," Karnazes says. "But I've been asleep and running. I really have. The bizarre thing is that when you wake up you feel somewhat refreshed. You can get in a nice cat nap."
He has run through pain and past exhaustion, to the point where he once saw a gold miner, a classic-looking 49er, standing on the side of the road. Turned out to be rock. He says he has hallucinated "a handful of times," not counting the incident when he felt himself going blind.
This is where we should point out three things: (1) After his first 50-mile run, Karnazes returned to his Lexus and, cramping badly, vomited all over the dashboard; (2) one of his favorite sayings is, "The other side of pain is pleasure;" and (3) another of his favorite sayings is,"There is magic in misery."
"I'm not advocating that people run these distances," Karnazes says. "I'm just telling my story. Running is what has worked for me. What I tell people is, don't be afraid to push the edge and experiment. Maybe your passion is basket-weaving. Push that passion all the way. Finding out about yourself and your limits is a worthwhile pursuit."
Yet, this hasn't been about only one man and the exploration of his insides. Most of Karnazes' races are tied to charity. He has raised nearly $100,000 for organ donation, leukemia research and the Special Olympics.
And if he inspires someone along the route, you know, that's not a bad bit of assistance, either.
"If you're not pushing yourself beyond the comfort zone, if you're not constantly demanding more from yourself, you're choosing a numb existence," Karnazes writes. "You're denying yourself an extraordinary trip."
He's right, but we've pushed this story as far as we can. Sorry to be so brief. We just knew we'd run out of room before Karnazes runs out of breath.
CONTACT US:
jmiller@ocregister.com