We’ve all seen some wild things during races, right?

One of the craziest moments for me happened during my first marathon—the Atlanta Thanksgiving Day Marathon. I’ll never forget it. I had just passed the 13-mile marker, winding my way back toward the city. I felt... okay, not great. Actually, I was really hot, even though it was cold that morning. (In my rookie mistake, I’d worn a windproof jacket. I hadn't yet learned the hard lesson that cold at the start doesn’t mean cold for the whole race.)

As I ran, I noticed a young guy ahead of me with a hydration pack, moving along with a short, quick stride. He looked strong and cruised right past me. But then I glanced down at his feet. Barefoot. Not “minimalist shoes” barefoot—just barefoot, like no shoes, no socks. I couldn’t believe it. He zoomed out of sight, and I didn’t give it much more thought as I focused on getting through the race.

Now, that marathon was probably the most painful I’ve ever run. My pacing was conservative enough that I never hit the infamous glycogen wall, but my running form was a work in progress. I was holding a lot of tension in my shoulders, keeping them high and tight. By Mile 23, the hills in downtown Atlanta made my shoulder muscles throb in agony. The pain in my shoulders felt worse than anything my legs were going through.

And then, just a few runners ahead, I saw him again—barefoot guy. Only this time, he wasn’t flying past anyone. He’d slowed down. As I passed him, I glanced down again. His feet were bloody. Absolutely raw. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was with burning shoulders, but this guy had run miles on bare, shredded feet. I still can’t wrap my head around it!

What about you? What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen during a race?