In May, thousands of hikers and ultrarunners make their pilgrimage to the Grand Canyon to hike or run across this amazing wonder of the world.

I have been producing short videos for the new Grand Canyon History YouTube channel. I thought it would be interesting to also publish these as a podcast episode for you to listen to.  This is part two. The video versions of these shorts, of course, have many historic pictures to see. Please subscribe to that channel.

Some of these shorts come from my best-selling book, Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History. You can get my book on Amazon.

This weekend (mid May each year) the North Rim of the Grand Canyon opened for the season. Thousands of hikers and ultrarunners make their pilgrimage to the canyon to hike or run across this amazing wonder of the world. 

I have been producing short videos for the new Grand Canyon History YouTube channel. I thought it would be interesting to also publish these as a podcast episode for you to listen to. The video versions of these shorts of course have many historic pictures to see. Please subscribe to that channel.

Some of these shorts come from my best-selling book, Grand Canyon Rim to Rim History. You can get my book on Amazon.

For this episode of the Ultrarunning History Podcast, I included an edited down interview I did with the excellent Trail Runner Nation Podcast. We discussed my new book, Old Sport Campana: Ultrarunning’s Most Popular and Amusing 19th Century Runner. Thanks to Scott and Don for having me on. To listen to the full interview, visit their podcast at trailrunnernation.com episode 726 entitled, "Ultrarunning's Past was Wilder than you Think."

In recent years, the story of the amazing Tarahumara (Rarámuri) runners from Mexico exploded into international attention with the publication of Christopher McDougall’s best-selling 2009 book, Born to Run. Runners everywhere in 2009 naively tossed their shoes aside for a while and wanted to run like these ancient native Americans from hidden high Sierra canyons in Chihuahua, Mexico. Many other runners left the marathon distance behind, sought to run ultramarathons, and dreamed about running the Leadville 100, which exploded with new entrants.

Readers of Born to Run think that the Tarahumara Indians made their debut running in America in 1992. Born to Run features their 1994 race at Leadville, Colorado. It has been falsely claimed that this was the first time that this indigenous people showed up to run outside their native environs. This is not true. Yes, the Tarahumara competed in the U.S. in 1992, but it was not the first time that they displayed their running abilities in the United States. The Tarahumara competed in America more than six decades earlier when they made an even deeper impact on ultrarunning history.

In 1889, "Old Sport" Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1905) returned home to Bridgeport, Connecticut, after his four-month trip to California. His celebrity status had increased because of news stories across the country about how he beat up the unscrupulous race manager, Frank W. Hall (1860-1923). During his ten-year ultrarunning career thus far, he had competed in at least 41 races, including 24 six-day races. As he did each summer, Campana took time away from racing, but frequently made appearances at local sporting events, including foot races.

fter ten years of competing in ultra-distance races, Old Sport, Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), age 52, had never gone west of the Mississippi River. That was all about to change in 1889. Frank W. Hall (1860-1923), of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, had managed some very successful six-day races. He decided to take the sport out to California. It had been about four years since the west coast had hosted a race. Hall hired Campana to be in the race and paid for this train ticket to California. He left on February 6, 1889, riding the Cincinnati Express. He arrived a week later with fellow runners Frank Hart (1856-1908) and George Cartwright (1848-1928). They created a stir among west coast sportsmen who wanted to get a glimpse of the famous runners.

By 1888, Old Sport Campana had competed in 35 ultra-distance races, and eight in 1888. He also competed in the most historic six-day race of the 19th century, held in November 1888 in Madison Square Garden. William M. O’Brien (1858-1891), was the race organizer. He partnered with Richard K. Fox (1846-1922), editor and publisher of the sporting publication, The Police Gazette, to offer the Fox Diamond Belt, valued at $2,500 to the winner. If someone beat James Albert’s (1856-1912) world record of 621 miles, they would get a bonus of $1,000. The contestants needed to reach 525 miles in order to claim a share of the gate receipts. With an entrance fee of $50, about 125 runners applied for entry, but the race was limited to 40 starters, including Campana.

The New York City press was favorable. “Old Sport Campana, whose increasing years seem to add new vigor to his constitution, will start. He will celebrate his 99th birthday on the track.” He was confident that he would reach 550 miles before he retired from the sport. Everyone wondered what new antics he would perform during this race.

A bold prediction was made that George Littlewood (1859-1912), of England, would break the world record. “Probably no man alive today can beat Littlewood. He is a phenomenal pedestrian, and having a poor field to beat should win with ease.”

By 1884, “Old Sport” Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), had gained national fame. He was being called "the clown of the walking matches." While he was never competitive enough to win a six-day race, event managers knew that he was a huge draw to bring spectators into a race. They paid him a salary to be in their races. At age 52, some called him "The living skeleton." Campana acted the part of a decrepit old man and said, “I am 62 years old and I haven’t got a tooth in my head and only a few hairs on it, but I’m here for sport, and don’t your forget it.”

By 1880, “Old Sport” Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), a fruit and nut peddler from Bridgeport, Connecticut, had established himself as an odd anomaly in the very popular spectator sport of six-day indoor races held in arenas in northeastern America. He had not yet won a race but would almost always stick it out to the end of the six days when usually 75% of the other runners would quit before the end. People would pay to come watch the races he was in, specifically to watch him run. Race directors would promise him a salary just to be in their races. No one ever could predict what unusual and amusing antics he would perform during a race.

He seemed to never be formally training, but perhaps with all the miles he put in pushing his cart, he was able to regularly run more than 300 miles in a six-day race.

Campana was unusually “unbalanced.” When some spectators mocked him, he would punch them in the face and then continue running. The crowds would roar with approval and the race management would do nothing. The New York Times wrote, “Napoleon Campana, better known to the world as ‘Old Sport,’ is called the clown of the walking matches, and a race without ‘Old Sport’ in it would be a novelty.”

“Old Sport” Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), of Bridgeport, Connecticut, a poor street vendor, and talented runner, wanted to become a professional pedestrian/ultrarunner. At age 42, he was viewed as very elderly, a strange anomaly on the track. It was said that it looked like he had been run through a threshing machine. “He looks like a physical wreck and every stranger expects to see him collapse momentarily. His shriveled, shrunken, crooked figure is one of the marvels of pedestrianism.”

In early 1879, he had a poor reputation, and his integrity was questioned. But during the coming 15 months, as he ran more miles in races than anyone in the world, he would win over the hearts of the public. He would be called “perhaps one of the best-known athletes in the country.” He became a crowd favorite to watch in 1879 when the six-day race was the most popular spectator sporting event to watch in America.

Peter Napoleon Campana (1836-1906), of Bridgeport, Connecticut, known as "Old Sport," was recognized as the most popular and entertaining “clown” of ultrarunning. It was said of him, "Campana kicks up his heels and creates a laugh every few minutes." He was one of the most prolific six-day runners during the pedestrian era of the sport. All of his amazing ultrarunning accomplishments were made after he was 42 years old, and into his 60s. He competed in at least 40 six-day races and many other ultra-distance races, compiling more than 15,000 miles during races on small indoor, smokey tracks. He never won a six-day race, but because he was so popular, race directors would pay him just to last six days in their races. Admiring spectators would throw dollar bills down to him on the tracks during races.

He didn’t age well, lost his hair, had wrinkled skin from being outdoor so much, and people thought he was 10-15 years older than he really was. He never corrected them in their false assumption and wanted people to believe he was very old. While he was well-loved by the public, he wasn’t a nice person. During races, when he would become annoyed, he would frequently punch competitors or spectators in the face. In his private life, he was arrested for assault and battery multiple times, including abusing his wife, and spent time in jails for being drunk.

Connie Gardner, from Akron Ohio, is the 25th person inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame, joining the Hall in 2024. From 2002 to 2012, she was a national champion eleven times at 50 miles, 100 kilometers, 100 miles, and 24 hours. She has finished at least 180 ultras, with more than 80% of them on trails, with nearly 100 wins, including three wins at the prestigious JFK 50 in Maryland. During her ultra career, she established 37 course or event records. She was a member of the U.S. National 100K Team and the U.S. National 24-Hour Team for many years, competing in many World Championships. With a busy family life and children, she didn't start running ultras until her late 30s, but dominated into her 50s. She was named the USA Track and Field (USATF) Ultrarunner of the Year in 2003 and 2012, and the USATF Masters Ultrarunner of the year in 2011.

Stu Mittleman was the sixth person to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. During the 1980s, while a college professor from New York, he became the greatest multi-day runner in the country who won national championships running 100 miles, but ran much further than that in other races. During that period, no other American ultrarunner, male for female, exhibited national class excellence at such a wide range of ultra racing distances. He brought ultrarunning into the national spotlight as he appeared on national television shows and became the national spokesman for Gatorade.

During the first half of the 1980s, Bernd Heinrich, of Vermont, was the fastest ultrarunner in America. In 2007, he was the fifth person to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. Today, few know of him and his amazing running records and accomplishments. He was unique from most other ultrarunners of his time in that rather than competing in many races, he was very selective in his race choices. When he ran, he had specific goals to win or set records, with laser focused training for these few specific events. Using this approach, he was able to win and set several American records.

Sue Ellen Trapp was one of the elite women pioneer ultrarunners who burst into the sport in the 1970s. She was the fourth person to be inducted into The American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. She quickly achieved world and American records and showed how fast and how far women could run. With a busy life including her dental practice and family, she rose to the top of the sport twice, after an eight-year ultrarunning retirement, setting world and American records in her 40s and 50s.

Marcy Schwam, from Massachusetts, was an ultrarunning pioneer in the 1970s and early 1980s, during an era when some people still believed long-distance running was harmful to women. She won about 30 ultras and set at least six world records at all ultra-distances from 50 km to six-days. At one point she ran 100 miles faster than any woman had ever run that far.

She was bold, brazen, with an impressive “get-out-of-my-way” attitude and racing style. She would take command of a race and preferred to lead rather than follow. This courageous attitude also helped to break through the stigma held against women runners of the time. She dared to be the only woman in a race. She inspired many other women to get into the sport and reach high.

Schwam trained hard and raced hard. She always knew what she was doing. Nick Marshall, who ran against her observed, “she set lofty goals for herself and she was gutsy enough to go after them with wild abandon. She might soar, or she might crash, but either way it was going to be a maximum effort.”  She thoroughly enjoyed competitive racing where limits were explored and tested often.

Sandra "Sandy" Jean (Mackey) Kiddy (1936-2018) of Rancho Mirage, California was the first woman to be inducted into the American Ultrarunning Hall of Fame. She was born in Grand Rapids Michigan to Robert B. Mackey (1909-1983) and Marjorie Rosita Montez (1911-1993), Her father's ancestry was from Ireland, and her mother's ancestry was from Mexico.

Sandy and went to Ottawa Hills High School, in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she was a member of the Girls' Athletic Association. She had never been very athletic in her youth. She then went to Valpraiso University, where she earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Biology and Zoology.

In 1962, she married Frederick "Fred" Kiddy, born in Sheffield, England, who became a bank manager. They married in Las Vegas, Nevada, while driving across the country to California. Once in Los Angeles, Sandy worked first at Caltech and then for Microbics at Beckman Instruments, where she patented a number of reagent laboratory tests.

Gordy Ainsleigh made his famous run on the Western States Trail 50 years ago, on August 3-4, 1974. Ainsleigh's run in the rugged, hot Sierra in California. It did not get much attention until several years later, when with some genius marketing, it became the icon for running 100 miles in the mountains, the symbol for Western States 100, founded in 1977. Using this icon, they inspired thousands to also try running 100 miles in the mountains on trails. Let's celebrate this historic run's 50th anniversary.

For most elite ultrarunner, as they reach their mid-40s, their competitive years are mostly behind them. But for Ted Corbitt, his best years were still ahead of him, as he would become a national champion and set multiple American ultrarunning records. Read/Listen to Part 1 and Part 2 of Corbitt's amazing history as he became "The Father of American Ultrarunning."

Perhaps Corbitt's most notable achievements in the sport of long-distance running was his groundbreaking work in course measurements. He said, “My initiating the accurate course measurement program in the USA is easily the most important thing that I did in the long-distance running scene.” He understood that “for the sport long-distance running to gain legitimacy, a system was needed to verify performances, records, and ensure that courses were consistently measured in the correct manner.”

After Ted Corbitt's disappointing 1952 Olympic marathon, he was determined to continue running. His key takeaway was that he had to elevate his performance by running more often and covering greater distances. But as he continued to push his training, he experienced a series of chronic muscle strains for the next year.

Corbitt was focused on the marathon distance and continued to finish high each year at Boston. He believed that success would require training every day, reaching at least 100 miles per week. His perseverance finally paid off in January 1954, when he emerged victorious in a marathon held in Philadelphia, completing it in 2:36:08. He won again, at the 1954 Yonkers Marathon, considered the national championship, with a time of 2:46:13. He had proven that his 1952 Olympic selection was justified. In 1955, he made the team for the Pan American team in Mexico City but was cut from the team became of lack of funds. It bothered him that some newspapers listed him as a non-finisher in the race. He never started it. Throughout his long running career, he never had a "did not finish (DNF)."