Testing grit and willpower with 7 marathons, 7 continents in 7 days

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  • Michael RothsteinJan 3, 2026, 07:00 AM ET

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      Michael Rothstein, based in Atlanta, is a reporter on ESPN's investigative and enterprise team. You can follow him via Twitter @MikeRothstein.

WOLF'S FANG RUNWAY in Antarctica ranks among the most desolate, unwelcoming places on the planet, where even on a springtime day, 20 degrees Fahrenheit is about as warm as it gets. Bracing against an icy wind-chill blast that made it feel closer to zero, 54 runners stepped off their wide-body charter plane on Nov. 16 and steeled themselves for the 26.2 miles of marathon hell ahead.

This was Day 2 of the Great World Race, a grueling test of mental and physical stamina in which participants vie to complete seven marathons in seven consecutive days on seven continents. The race took them in a matter of hours from the lung-freezing cold of Antarctica to the 94-degree heat of Perth, Australia. The pace was so relentless, they had to sleep on the plane between races. No matter how sweaty they got, no one could count on a daily shower. Given the extreme hardship and $60,000 entry fee, the obvious question is: Why do it? Some run to win or set records. Others run just to finish. All who competed share the pride of accomplishing a feat that few others on the planet can claim.

Runners described the challenge as unlike anything else in the sporting world -- particularly the conditions at Wolf's Fang. One competitor compared the slick, compacted snow to an "ice skating rink."

The race began around midnight, when Antarctica's skies were lit with a predawn glow. Unlike the New York or Boston marathons, where thousands compete and crowds line the course, these runners had no cheering section, only the sounds of snow and ice crunching with each step. There wasn't even a penguin in sight.

Though clad with warm clothing and protective eyewear, there was nothing the runners could do about breathing frigid air into their lungs. "I had a balaclava on and that froze," said Jacky Hunt-Broersma, one of the runners. "I couldn't breathe, so I had to pull it off, and I was like: Oh my goodness, I'm going to die out here. I can't breathe."

Runner Dave Fortier described the effect of the wind as "like you're going up a steep hill" despite the flat terrain.

Warming tents were available on the 2.62-mile, looped route that runners completed 10 times. Hunt-Broersma, an amputee whose running blade kept slipping on the ice, said she ultimately decided to cut her losses and run a half-marathon this time, which she finished in 4:40:21.

Dan Little, the oldest competitor at age 82 and a Great World Race veteran, also dropped to the half, finishing with a time of 4:38:49. He described this year's experience as "memorably awful, miserable and brutal."

THE GREAT WORLD RACE is a private event, funded by each competitor's entry fee, which means the runners beyond Antarctica had to make their way on public pathways, often running alongside unaware residents out for morning runs or bike rides. Without their numbered bibs, little distinguished them from joggers. Every day was a new marathon, starting on Nov. 15 in Cape Town and then Antarctica and back to Cape Town. Then on to Perth, Abu Dhabi, Faro in Portugal and Cartagena on Colombia's northern coast before finishing in Miami. One of their chartered planes had previously been used by the Foo Fighters on the band's world tour.

Runner Christian Brown-Johnson added another layer to the already formidable challenge: He ran ultra marathon distances -- 50 kilometers (31.1 miles) each day -- attempting to set a world record completing an ultra on every continent on consecutive days. His fastest time, in Miami, was 4:00:46 and slowest -- Antarctica, no surprise -- was 5:05:14.

The pace was unrelenting: Fly. Land on a different continent. Clear customs. Bus to the race location (except in Antarctica). Run. Scramble to find food or a shower. Return to the plane. Fly again. The runners' only overnight hotel stay was before the Miami finale.

The entry fee covered all expenses, including food, trainers, a fully reclining seat on a charter plane and cover for emergency evacuation from Antarctica. Organizers deliberately left Wi-Fi out of the amenities package to encourage rest and camaraderie. Even when shower facilities were available, slower runners sometimes were so rushed to board departing planes that they had to improvise using baby wipes or wet paper towels in the plane lavatory.

Remarkably, Fortier said, the plane didn't acquire a smell.

Race director David Kelly and his staff offered prerace coaching and training suggestions, but he said there was no way to fully prepare them for the extremes ahead.

Little, who was entering his fourth Great World Race and fully expecting to be the oldest and slowest competitor, knew from experience what to expect.

Fortier, a Massachusetts native used to cold weather, spent parts of his training in Ukraine and Israel working with his nonprofit, One World Strong. He founded the organization, which helps survivors of traumatic events through sports and movement, during his rehabilitation process after shrapnel struck his right foot as bombs exploded just before he crossed the finish line at the 2013 Boston Marathon.

Hunt-Broersma trained in the Arizona heat and told ESPN before the race that she was unsure of how she'd manage in Antarctica. An ultra marathon veteran who began running years after losing part of her left leg to cancer in 2002, she said she had concerns about how her stump and running blade would be affected by the continual back-to-back flights.

Little said multiple factors hampered his preparation this year, including helping his daughter and granddaughter after they survived the July 4 flood that swept over a girl's camp in central Texas. The two were staying near the camp. He said he briefly considered dropping out of this year's race.

Little faced an additional challenge upon arrival in South Africa: His luggage -- including running gear -- didn't make the flight. His luggage finally arrived 36 hours later, in time for the first race.

He seemed to take it all in stride. "Trying to get mentally and emotionally prepared for the 7-day gauntlet," Little said in a text message the day before the first race.

THE RUNNERS WEREN'T the only ones facing challenges. Less than 24 hours before the expedition's start, Kelly got word that it was too warm for a jet to land in Antarctica, originally set as the race's opening venue. Unless temperatures were well below the freezing level, the runway could become slippery and even start to melt.

Instead of delaying the entire race for a day, Kelly flipped the schedule, kicking off in Cape Town.

Little said his spirits were lifted when the competitors boarded their chartered jumbo airliner for Antarctica -- a major upgrade from the cargo plane provided in earlier years.

Kelly warned competitors beforehand not to stress about scheduling or even what time or day it was.

"What I've found is, once people start running two or three marathons in, there's not an issue" with glitches such as schedule changes, Kelly said. "They're happy to take guidance."

FEW OF THE RUNNERS endured the kinds of difficulties that Hunt-Broersma faced. She said the combination of air travel, weather, lack of sleep and wear on her body caused havoc with her stump. By the time the group ran in Perth, she said, every step irritated.

Her walking leg has a prosthetic foot on the bottom, allowing her to wear a shoe or sandal. Her blade is specialized and curved to provide support and energy release with its construction. The prosthetic requires a snug fit with the stump, but if conditions cause that fit to loosen, bruising can occur.

"When [the stump] gets bruised, it's the bone that gets bruised," Hunt-Broersma said.

She switched from her running blade to her walking leg midway through the Perth race. Two local volunteers walked part of the course with her. She finished with a time of 7:18:14, the slowest of all her full marathon finishes and more than an hour off her best finishing time, in Cape Town. Typically, Hunt-Broersma said, she runs marathons in four-to-five hours.

The pain changed her Great World Race into a simple goal: Every day, just finish.

"At that point, you're kind of just survival," Hunt-Broersma said. "And you'll just do anything to get yourself to the finish line."

In Abu Dhabi, the next stop after Perth, Hunt-Broersma was back in her running blade. She said two women stopped her to say how much she inspired them.

In Faro, many of the town's residents lined the course to cheer the runners on. From Portugal, they traveled to Cartagena, where nighttime temperatures were around 81 degrees with humidity of 88%. It was the only race run primarily in darkness to avoid the searing daytime heat.

That's when racers' bodies started breaking down. Blisters formed on feet. Kelly said the penultimate race is usually where mental and physical stamina are tested the most -- worsened by Cartagena's heat and humidity.

"It is always the toughest one," Kelly said.

Fortier said his mindset was "survival." Halfway through, Fortier said, it felt like he had run a full marathon. Even so, his finishing time wound up better than in Antarctica and two previous legs of the race.

Hunt-Broersma said she cried during the final lap in Cartagena. In a show of camaraderie, other runners stayed to cross the finish line with her.

"At one point I was a little embarrassed 'cause I was going so slow and just frustrated," she said. "And it's so stupid. Like, who cares. No one cares about what time you finished."

After Cartagena, one race remained: Miami. Many racers were American or Canadian, so this meant they were heading home.

FAMILY AND FRIENDS gathered shortly after 7 a.m. at the Miami Beach boardwalk parking lot on 53rd Street as two buses lumbered in. As the competitors disembarked, cheers erupted.

Hunt-Broersma's family ran up and embraced her in a big group hug.

For Fortier, the reunion with his partner was bittersweet. The couple's service dog had died a week earlier, as Fortier was beginning the race. He had to say goodbye to his beloved pet and running companion over video call. He then ran through his grief all week.

Eighteen minutes later, the race started. Family members lined parts of the boardwalk with signs and cowbells. Some joined in running laps with the runners on the 2.5-mile, looped course. The atmosphere was festive, filled with yells of encouragement.

Little moved with the same steady, slow pace he kept throughout the journey. Another collection of supporters yelled, "We love you, Dan. We love you." Multiple runners later marveled at the 82-year-old's accomplishment.

Unaffiliated runners and cyclists, all using the same boardwalk, seemed to sense that something noteworthy was going on. The inflatable Great World Race start-finish line, with flags from multiple countries lining the sides of the boardwalk, might have given it away.

One observer looked down midcourse and saw a small hot pink X on the ground with a 50K marker taped underneath, displaying Brown-Johnson's shorter final lap turnaround.

"50K," he muttered. "Holy s---."

Brown-Johnson crossed the finish line in 4:00.46 -- his fastest 50K of the week. His grandfather, who has Parkinson's, joined him in his final steps. Brown-Johnson said he thought of him -- and the finish -- all week.

His cumulative time was 31:25:37 for all seven ultras. His total mileage equated to running from Boston to New York.

Fortier finished soon after. Before he left Miami Beach, he jumped into the ocean.

Another six hours passed. By then, the course had emptied out as Dan Little began his final two laps. "Getting my money's worth," he joked. By the time he finished, after nearly eight hours on the course, supporters had cleared away, and race crews were busy dismantling signs and loading up equipment.

Two senior citizens passing by on bicycles stopped him. "We're proud of you," a woman told Little. "You're representing us seniors very well."

Not 10 minutes after Little finished -- the last one to cross the line -- he proclaimed he would be back again next year, hopefully with his grandson. Kelly said around 20 spots have already been claimed for next year's race.

About 90 minutes earlier, Hunt-Broersma raised her arms while crossing the finish, no evidence of pain or the tears of Cartagena.

She said it was important to her to show her difficulties and provide a realistic picture of competing in the race -- prosthetic and all.

She declared she was never doing this again.

The following morning, she backtracked: "I've got unfinished business -- with Antarctica."

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