On Feb. 11, while our attention was held by the opening acts of the Super Bowl, news broke that marathon world record holder Kelvin Kiptum and his Coach, Gervais Hakizimana, passed away due to a car accident in their home country of Kenya.
Kiptum famously broke the world marathon world record with a time of 2:00:35 at just 24 years old. He was well regarded as a running prodigy and was set to make his Olympic debut in Paris for the 2024 Olympic Games.
As a person, I send my condolences to him and his family, as well as to Hakizimana and his family. As a fan of his, I am devastated and heartbroken. A star so bright and someone poised to make history was taken before he could fulfill all of his goals. As a runner, I feel an even greater sadness.
The marathon is, by all accounts, a gauntlet of a race. 26.2 miles of straight running, all done at a pace that never quite feels comfortable. It’s a grind in the most literal sense for all runners. The faster and faster a marathon gets, the more inhuman it seems. The mile splits show a story of anguish and pain.
The limit for how fast a marathon can be run used to be theorized to be somewhere around two hours. That was before Kenyan superstar Eliud Kipchoge broke the two-hour barrier in a controlled marathon with pacers, an optimized racing surface, and perfect weather. He proved the impossible task of breaking two hours was possible, and Kiptum very quickly became the best chance humanity had at conquering an impossible record.
Kiptum’s marathon world record at the Chicago Marathon was unlike any other. He floated through each mile, effortlessly on-pace to make history. Anyone who watched that race can rave to you about his vaunted mile 22, where he found another gear and ran a blistering 4:18 mile after being more than 20 miles into the race. You knew it when you saw it: Kiptum was special. He was truly once in a lifetime.
The worst part about seeing Kiptum pass is that when the marathon record is broken, when someone ventures below the two-hour mark in an official race, it won’t be him, and some people will remember him as second place and nothing more. But to me, and millions of others Kiptum was an athlete words can’t truly describe.
Everything in life, your athletic career, your relationships, and your accomplishments can be fleeting. But Kiptum stands in a vaunted circle, a universally beloved athlete who was an exceptional competitor and stood at the doorsteps to the most impressive milestones one could hope to accomplish in sports.
My heart goes out to the Kiptum and Hakizimana’s families and friends.
