Josh: Hey everyone, and welcome to the show! Today, we're virtually strapping on our trail shoes and heading south to the Copper Canyons of Mexico. It's a truly stunning place where running isn’t just exercise, it's fundamentally woven into the fabric of life. Drew: Absolutely! And we're not talking about a casual jog in the park, right? This is the kind of running that makes marathons look like a light morning stretch. Can you imagine running for hours, even days maybe, fueled by...cornmeal and sandals? I'm already feeling out of breath just thinking about it. Are you hooked yet? Josh: Exactly, Drew! That's what captivated Christopher McDougall and led him to write "Born to Run." The book plunges us into the world of the Tarahumara, an Indigenous tribe renowned for their almost unbelievable running endurance. But it’s more than just a running story. It’s really a journey into our own evolution, our cultural perceptions, and how rediscovering a primal connection to movement can be transformative. Drew: Right, but it’s not all just sunshine and canyon vistas, is it? There's this underlying tension, I think. It's between ancient traditions and the rise of modern ultramarathons, between community spirit and cutthroat competition. And, let's be honest, between barefoot running enthusiasts and the rest of us who prefer not to puncture our feet on rocks, you know? Josh: Precisely! So, in this episode, we’re going to unpack three core themes from "Born to Run." First, we'll explore the Tarahumara's deeply rooted cultural heritage and their unique approach to endurance. Then, we'll examine what happens when their joyful, community-focused way of life bumps up against the intense world of competitive ultrarunning. Drew: Okay, and perhaps most importantly, what does all of this tell us about ourselves? What does the scientific community believe about our innate drive to run? And what does it really mean to discover joy – and, inevitably, pain – out there on the trail? Josh: It's really a compelling narrative about human potential and connection. It extends well beyond any finish line. Yeah, let’s dive in!

Josh: Okay, let's start by painting a picture of the Tarahumara running culture. It’s really the heart and soul of their identity. Running isn't just something they do; it’s who they are. The word "Rarámuri" itself, you know, means "those who run fast" or "foot runners." It really reflects how deeply running they embedded this into their spirit. Drew: Right, what struck me is how they take running, which is usually a solo grind for a lot of us, and transform it into this communal and joyful act. When you think of modern running culture, it’s all about personal bests, heart rate monitors, Strava segments. But for the Tarahumara, it's just...more holistic? Josh: Exactly! And a big part of that difference comes from their concept of korima. It's this beautiful idea of sharing and mutual aid—giving what you have to those who need it. That spirit extends into their running. It's not just about them as individuals; it’s about what they're contributing to their community. Drew: Right. So when they're out there running those brutal cliffside trails, it's not just about getting from Point A to Point B, but about fostering connection? That's genuinely amazing, but also, I don't know, kind of hard to digest. I can't even get through a 10K without tuning out the world and putting on a playlist. Josh: It's a mindset shift, for sure. One way they embody that is through their traditional team game, rarájipari. Picture this: a group of runners kicking a small wooden ball across rocky terrain for miles, working together to keep it moving. It’s not just a race, it’s a blend of strategy, endurance, and adaptability. Drew: I read about that. There's no clear finish line, right? The game just goes until it's... well, done. That’s such a foreign concept when everything in modern athletics is timed to the millisecond. Josh: Totally! Ángel Nava López, a Tarahumara teacher, puts it perfectly: “You never know how hard it will be. You never know when it will end. You can’t control it. You can only adjust.” It’s a metaphor for life! Unpredictability, challenges, but also resilience and collective effort. Drew: Okay, but let's not gloss over the athleticism here. They're not just jogging along – they're running absurd distances at high altitudes while kicking a ball. That requires stamina, precision, and teamwork. It's like a sport designed by someone who thought marathons sounded too easy. Josh: They manage that level of endurance with a completely different approach to diet and training. Their nutrition, for one, is fascinating. It’s largely plant-based – beans, squash, and the famous pinole, a roasted cornmeal drink packed with energy. Drew: See, that's the part of the story that blew my mind the most. Pinole, just something so simple, is fueling these awe-inspiring feats. Meanwhile, we're over here choking down three-dollar gels with electrolytes that taste like watered-down lemons. Josh: It's a testament to their deep connection with nature and simplicity. Everything they eat serves a purpose, but it's not just functional—it's cultural. Pinole isn't just fuel; it’s a reflection of traditions passed down through generations. Drew: And let's not forget the footwear, or, well, lack thereof. They’re out there running in huaraches, thin-soled sandals made from old tires. The rest of the world is debating the merits of carbon-plated super shoes! Josh: Right, and this ties back to their philosophy of harmony, running simply, close to the earth. And it’s not just about the shoes, it’s about how they run. They maintain this light, almost effortless form, forefoot striking instead of heel-striking, you know, reducing the impact. Drew: Okay, this is where my skeptical brain starts firing. Sure, their form and simplicity work for them, but only because they've been doing it their whole lives, right? Could the rest of us ditch our sneakers and go full Tarahumara without risking injury? Josh: Fair point, and that's one of the central tensions explored in the book. How much of their way of life can translate to our world? It’s not just about technique or gear; it’s about their relationship with running itself. For the Tarahumara, running is freedom, is joy, is celebration. Drew: Like during their races, when it seems like the whole community joins in – villagers cheering, sharing food, even drinking tesgüino, that traditional corn beer. It's just so different from the solitary, headphones-in-the-zone running vibe that most of us are used to. Josh: And that communal celebration underscores how different their mindset is from ours. They're not chasing medals or personal glory. Running is about coming together and honoring life itself. Drew: That's all great, but let's switch gears for a second. I keep thinking about that story McDougall tells—the one about the Tarahumara hunter running a deer to exhaustion. Persistence hunting, I mean, is that real? Could someone actually do that? Josh: Yes, it's real, and it's an ancient technique. The idea is that humans, with our ability to sweat and endure, can run longer distances than most animals, which rely on panting to cool down. Over time, the animal overheats and collapses, allowing the hunter to catch it. Drew: Wow. Hold on, though. That almost makes humans sound...like superheroes. Sweat-powered demigods. Josh: It’s not about being superhuman – it’s about endurance as a survival strategy. We don't have the speed or strength of predators, but we have incredible stamina. For the Tarahumara, this practice isn't just a survival skill; it’s another example of how closely tied their endurance is to their environment. Drew: Some of that same DNA is in all of us. Makes you wonder if we've lost touch with something essential, doesn't it? Instead of persistence hunting, we're hunting for parking spots at the grocery store. Josh: It's a sobering thought, it also highlights something important: the Tarahumara aren't just running to survive. They're running to celebrate life, their land, their community. It’s a powerful reminder of how deeply movement is tied to who we are. Drew: Running isn't just an activity, it's a legacy, a tradition. A glimpse into what we could be if we focused less on competition and more on connection. I can respect that. Even if I’ll still need my “shoes”.

Josh: This traditional view of running really clashes with modern ultrarunning, doesn’t it? It really sets the stage for examining the conflicts and also the possible synergies between these two worlds. When we look at events like the Leadville Trail 100, that's where the tensions become so apparent, and they highlight our own assumptions about running. It's not just about endurance anymore—it’s a real clash of values. Drew: Exactly. You’ve got the Tarahumara, with their community-focused, joy-driven running style, and then Leadville, which, I mean, that race embodies modern ultrarunning. All the performance stats, the sponsorship banners plastered everywhere, and, of course, every energy gel known to humankind. It almost feels like these two worlds were destined for a cultural collision. Josh: And that's exactly what happened when the Tarahumara first started participating at Leadville. Rick Fisher brought them in, hoping to showcase their incredible endurance. But it turned out to be way more complex than simply pinning on a number and running. The Tarahumara's whole worldview just didn't align with the event's competitive spirit, where it seemed like everything revolved around rankings, records, and individual glory. Drew: Yeah, total culture shock—but on a trail at 10,000 feet! You've got runners in all the latest high-tech gear, obsessively checking their GPS watches at every split... and then you have the Tarahumara in their simple huaraches. I can only imagine the looks they got. Josh: Absolutely. And it wasn't just the gear. Even the race rituals felt foreign to them—things like pre-race briefings and aid stations overflowing with products they'd never seen before. It was a completely different world. Initially, they really struggled to adapt. It wasn't just the physical challenge, which they could handle with ease. It was the whole framework of the event and its focus on individual performance that was at odds with their values. Drew: But then, when they did adapt, they showed the world what they were capable of in a way that no one could ignore. Juan Herrera's 1994 performance, breaking the Leadville record with a time of 17 hours and 30 minutes? I mean, that wasn't just a win. It was a statement. Josh: It really was. But it's important to remember Herrera's victory wasn't about him as an individual. That's the key difference. The Tarahumara don't have this desire to boast or claim individual glory. It was about running with dignity, staying true to their culture, and honoring their traditions. Still, Herrera's performance really shook ultrarunning to its core. He showed that this ancient, minimalist approach could outperform all the fancy strategies and technologies that are tied to competitive running. Drew: Let's talk about Rick Fisher for a moment, though. The guy brings the Tarahumara to Leadville, but then he sort of becomes the story himself, doesn't he? Josh: He really is a complicated figure. On one hand, Fisher genuinely admired the Tarahumara and wanted to share their abilities with the world. But on the other hand, it seems like his motivations got mixed up with his own ego and his own need for recognition. His accusations against the race organizers, that the results were "fixed," all of his public outbursts, it just overshadowed the real stars of the story. Drew: It's like Fisher fell into the same trap that ultrarunning sometimes does—making it about conquest, about ego, rather than appreciating the deeper philosophy of the people he was trying to promote. And then, instead of trying to understand their reluctance to fully embrace the ultrarunning world, he gets frustrated and basically turns them into a spectacle. Josh: Exactly. Fisher overlooked the Tarahumara's core values—korima, which is sharing, humility, their sense of communal purpose. His intentions may have been good, but his methods often alienated both the Tarahumara and the broader ultrarunning community. It's a stark reminder of how cultural exchanges can quickly become exploitative if we don't approach them with real respect and understanding. Drew: But here's where it gets really interesting, I think. Despite all these tensions, there were still amazing moments of connection. Like the rivalry-slash-friendship between Juan Herrera and Ann Trason during that Leadville race. Josh: That's one of my favorite parts of the story. Trason was this incredibly competitive runner—one of the best ultramarathoners of her time—who initially saw Herrera as just another opponent to beat. But as the race went on, she started to notice the way he ran: calm, joyful, almost meditative. And it made her completely rethink her own approach to running. Drew: Right. So it's in these moments that we see what cultural exchange can really do, right? Instead of this “us versus them” mentality, Trason's experience with Herrera shows how these two completely different philosophies of running can actually inform one another. Josh: Absolutely. And that mutual inspiration went beyond just personal relationships. The Tarahumara's diet—things like pinole and chia seeds—sparked so much interest in the ultrarunning world. Their techniques, their stride, even the simplicity of their footwear—all of that influenced the way people thought about running. Drew: Which is pretty ironic, when you think about it. Here's this hyper-commercialized sport suddenly looking to a group of people who run without brands, without tech, to rediscover the true essence of running. Josh: It's a bit poetic, isn't it? But it also comes with its own challenges. How do you take practices from a culture like the Tarahumara's without turning it into just another trend, another commodity? Drew: And there it is—the commercialization dilemma. It's like the Tarahumara's running philosophy offering us this gift. But if we're not careful, we risk turning that gift into something it was never meant to be—a product instead of a practice. Josh: That's the ultimate tension, isn't it? The modern ultrarunning world has so much to learn from the Tarahumara's joyful, community-focused approach. And yet, they have to do it with humility, without reducing them to some feel-good narrative or a convenient marketing tool. Drew: It's a delicate balance to strike. But if there's one thing modern runners can take away, it's that running can be so much more than metrics, gear, or winning. It can be a way to reconnect—not just with yourself, but with your community, with nature, with something bigger than all of it. Josh: Exactly. That's why these stories, like the Tarahumara at Leadville, really matter. They inspire us not just to run better, but to really reflect on why we run in the first place.

Josh: So, all these interesting points naturally guide us to a wider discussion about the philosophy and biomechanics of running. When we “really” dig into why the Tarahumara are so good at endurance, we start to see how our bodies, evolution, and movement all connect. It's more than just training or diet; it's about understanding why we're built for this, both physically and, well, you might even say spiritually. Drew: Exactly, and that's where evolution comes into play. This idea that humans, as a species, are basically designed to run—changes the way you think. It sort of reframes everything about marathons or, heck, even just jogging. But, I wonder, is this evolutionary idea actually solid, or is it just a nice story, maybe a little too convenient? Josh: Oh, it's definitely solid. The research by Dr. Dennis Bramble and David Carrier really proves how humans are naturally suited for endurance. Their studies show how our bodies are practically fine-tuned for long-distance running. I mean, think about it: we have spring-like tendons in our legs that store and release energy, a big gluteus maximus to keep us stable when we're upright, and the ability to sweat, which gives us a huge advantage when it comes to cooling down compared to other animals that pant. Drew: Okay, let's stop right there. So, we are essentially heat-dissipation machines with a strange desire to achieve a lot. But, you know, we're not exactly the cheetahs of the animal kingdom. I mean, most people wouldn't say that humans are built for speed. Josh: True, but it's not about speed, it's about endurance. Persistence hunting shows this perfectly. Take the Kalahari Bushmen, for example. They would track animals, like antelope, across the desert. It wasn't a sprint; it was a slow and steady chase over miles, taking advantage of the fact that these animals couldn't cool down as well as humans. Imagine chasing down prey until it just collapses from exhaustion. Drew: Not to take anything away from the Bushmen, but does that sound kind of like a superhero story? "Sweat-soaked tracker takes down a mighty antelope with nothing but persistence." Josh: It’s real, though! And fascinating! Think about the nuchal ligament that stabilizes our head while running. Only endurance species have this specific structure. Then add in our curved foot arches that act as shock absorbers, and it is clear that our bodies are optimized for running—at least, long enough to survive and thrive as a species. Drew: If running was so important, why isn't everyone a natural runner? I mean, why does it feel like such a struggle just to run to the corner store without getting winded? Josh: That's a fair point. We've kind of moved away from these evolutionary roots because of sedentary lifestyles. Shoes, cars, offices—they've dulled our natural abilities. But, the potential is still there. The Tarahumara prove what human bodies can do when they live in harmony with nature, where running isn't just an exercise but a way of life. Drew: Well, that brings me to footwear—or, should I say, the lack of it? Here comes the whole barefoot running trend. Dr. Lieberman’s research makes shoes sound like they cause more harm than good. What’s the science showing this? Josh: Ok, the problem is biomechanics. Modern shoes, especially those with thick, cushioned soles, cause you to land on your heel first. Heel-striking creates a jarring impact that goes all the way up your legs. Barefoot runners naturally land on their forefoot or midfoot, which absorbs impact better. It's basically how our ancestors would have run—light, efficient, and less prone to injury. Drew: So, Barefoot Ted wasn’t delusional when he tossed his shoes off and went jogging into the wilderness? Josh: No. He is a perfect example of rediscovering something. After struggling with chronic pain, Ted started running barefoot and it made him rethink his mechanics. Over time, he got healthy again, and his form improved. Dr. Lieberman’s research agrees; barefoot promotes shorter, quicker strides that protect joints. Drew: What about people who aren’t seasoned runners? If you go from cushioned shoes to barefoot, aren’t you just asking for every foot injury in the book? Josh: Good point. You need to be patient and give yourself time to adapt. The Tarahumara, for example, grow up running in their simple huaraches, so their muscles strengthen to support that style of movement. The rest of us have to build strength and awareness over time, not just try to run a marathon barefoot right away. Drew: Okay, fair enough. But, I can’t help but think that the simplicity of it is... I don’t know, too simple? It sounds as much about chasing a philosophy as it does practical fitness. Josh: You’re right—it's also a way of thinking. Barefoot running challenges you to pay attention to your body and adjust your stride. It’s about reconnecting with the joy of running. Drew: So you’re saying that pain—in moderation—is the trainer we’ve always had but just ignored? Josh: Precisely. Pain gets such a bad rap, but in barefoot running, it’s actually helpful. Instead of ignoring it with cushioned soles, you change your form to get rid of the root cause. This connects with the Tarahumara’s idea of effortless motion. Drew: Which, I sort of admire. It’s a way of running that’s not about racing or distance—it’s about flow and freedom. Their philosophy reminds me of that Taoist idea, “When you stop trying, you achieve.” Josh: Yes, exactly. Running, for the Tarahumara, means life. It’s moving forward, adapting, and having purpose. Not about force or competition, but about balance. Drew: You know, it’s almost funny. We’ve spent years inventing shoes and training methods to perfect running, but the secret could just be, “Run lightly. Run joyfully. Oh, and ditch the shoes.” Josh: The simplest ideas can be the most true. The Tarahumara and the science of barefoot running show us that moving, when you do it naturally, is a gift, not a burden.

Josh: So, Drew, today we’ve taken a fascinating trip to the Copper Canyons, haven’t we? Exploring the Tarahumara and their incredible endurance, and really thinking about what it means to reconnect with running. Not just as a sport, but as something deeply human. Drew: Absolutely, Josh. We've been wrestling with the Tarahumara's joy-based philosophy and, well, the data-driven world of modern running. And honestly, it's a bit of a wake-up call to think that the real secret might just be as simple as ditching the fancy shoes and rediscovering the pure joy of moving. Kind of makes you wonder about all the gadgets, doesn't it? Josh: It really does. And it's not just about how we run, but why. The Tarahumara remind us to approach movement with intention and a little humility, you know? Running is so much more than just hitting certain times or chasing personal bests. It's about connecting with ourselves, our communities, and the world around us. Drew: So, whether you're lacing up the latest running shoes or going barefoot, the message is pretty clear: find the joy in the run itself. Maybe it's not about speed or distance, but about rediscovering that freedom of simply moving forward. Have you found that joy in your own running lately? Josh: Definitely! It's about finding that rhythm, that flow. And when you're out there, whether it's a trail or a treadmill, embrace what running can truly be: a celebration! A reminder of what we can do, both as individuals and as human beings. Drew: Right, a celebration of movement. And who knows, maybe next time you're out there, you'll feel a little closer to that legacy hidden away in the Copper Canyons. It's a nice thought, anyway. Josh: Absolutely! So until next time, keep running with heart, everyone. And yeah, find your rhythm with every stride. Drew: And uh, maybe watch out for cacti. You know, just saying. Josh: Always the pragmatist! See you all next time!