Brad Randolph conquers the first ever barefoot Half Everesting

4,930m elevation. 52.82km. 27 hours 4 minutes. Barefoot.

This is the story of Brad Randolph, who last month completed the first ever barefoot Half Everesting on Mt. Sanitas in Boulder, Colorado — 13 ascents, no shoes.

Brad shared the fascinating story of his achievement with us. Here it is, in his own words:

“Hiking barefoot. 6 years ago it was a foreign concept. I had climbed all of Colorado’s 14ers at least twice (with shoes), but was wondering what was next.

Then I saw him. A guy on a local hike halfway up the trail, wearing a big smile but no shoes. What was this madness? I had to find out.

Soon I was regularly hiking a Boulder favorite peak, Mt. Sanitas, before or after work, barefoot. It’s 1.3 miles one way (2.6 RT) with 1250 feet of elevation gain – the perfect distance and challenge to build up my feet for bigger hiking challenges.

Eventually I tried a 14,000-foot Colorado peak (14er) barefoot. Here’s a YouTube short of two 14ers last summer, Redcloud & Sunshine Peaks: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/5Eh48od6ziU

Last week I decided to push my barefoot elevation gain and find my true limit. With the checklist complete, car stocked up with hydration and sustenance, I was mentally ready to fight for it.

Starting Saturday, March 21st at 5:53am, I left my cushy flip flops in the car, hit the button on my Garmin watch, and walked barefoot to the nearby trailhead. Several friends wanted to join me for a lap or two (with shoes) and I was delighted to have company during this event. 

Saturday morning my friend David was going to meet me for the first lap at 6:30am, but in my excitement I awoke an hour before my alarm (we’ve all been there!) and arrived early at the trailhead. I texted him that I was going for a lap before he arrived, and he patiently waited for me to return so we could hike my second lap together.

On the first solo lap, I felt as fresh and prepared as ever. Nothing was going to stop me from Everesting this hill.

David stayed with me for a few laps into the heat of the day, setting his own record of 6 laps in a row. Little did we know this would be a record high temperature today: 89 degrees Fahrenheit. Boy, did we feel it!

At lap 5 (6,250′ elevation gain), my right IT band was getting angry. I didn’t truly realize how much strain the IT bands would suffer from prolonged barefoot hiking.

For those who have never hiked barefoot, ascending the peak is not the hard part; it’s descending that’ll get you. With shoes, we can plop down with each step and allow the cushion to absorb the impact. Without protection, that is a sure way to damage the feet. Even one hard step onto a sharp sturdy pebble on the heelbone can cause limping for the remainder of the day.

So, the best way to descend is to use cat-like steps, lowering using the quad of the standing leg and gently placing the ball of the foot on the terrain below, rolling from ball to heel. The trail on Mt. Sanitas isn’t always straight forward; it’s got many different features like uneven large rock formations, sharp conglomerate rock portions, and steps made of rock or logs that are arguably too tall for some.

All the stabilizing required while carefully descending put significant strain on the IT bands, and I started to sense that this might be my demise.

Thanks to a Facebook post made the previous day by another local Mt. Sanitas fanatic, Curtis Jones, some folks on the trail were aware of my goal and cheered me on. This raised my spirits even more!

Strangely, while descending lap 6 (around 5:30pm), the pain from the right IT band faded, only to be immediately replaced by the left IT band. I had a feeling this one wouldn’t give up quite as easily.

Several other friends joined me as the sun started to fade. One good friend Simon joined me for laps 10 and 11 from midnight to 3:30am, and we had the entire mountain to ourselves – a pleasant relief from the crowds. My pace was moderate on the ascents, still feeling like I could do this forever. But the moment I turned back from the summit pole, the left IT band would flare right back up, even locking my leg up and forcing me to stumble out of control, which is unacceptable especially while barefoot.

I desperately wanted to continue, and told myself I would continue no matter what it took. Simon was all positive vibes but I could feel what he was thinking on the descent of lap 11: that IT band is causing Brad to slow and even limp, which doesn’t bode well…

My favorite part of hiking barefoot is navigating. With exposed toes, each step requires more focus. Occasionally you’ll accidentally misjudge a step and kick a rock and jam or scrape your toe, reminding you to keep your head in the game with every movement. Once you’ve mastered gauging your steps, speeding up the pace while maintaining balance and grace brings the experience to its full thrill!

Generally when doing a single barefoot lap on Mt. Sanitas, I love running on the gentler parts of the mountain, but the friction scrapes the skin and creates tearing in places like where the toes meet the ball of the foot. So, this being an endurance event, the goal was to keep a steady pace while safe enough to keep my feet functional.

After Simon left at 3:30am, I headed up for lap 12. Stopping for a sip of water halfway up, I noticed that my head started to nod off for half a second. I jerked upright and opened my eyes wide and shook my head quickly like a dog finishing a bath. No! Keep moving, don’t get tired now. Sunrise is at 7:00am, only a couple hours away. The energy of the daylight will carry me through.

On the descent of lap 12, I reached one of my favorite sections of the mountain: a minor dihedral with solid rock. It’s grippy, which feels fantastic when the feet are fresh, but my soles were quite sensitive by now. Moreso, the steep angle of the slope would require lots of stability, and my IT bands were fried. I faced toward the mountain and crawled the section backward. I must have looked ridiculous, but thankfully nobody was around as it was still dark.

Taking a routine aid stop at my car to refill, eat, and roll my IT bands, I noted that I was halfway done with my Everesting goal. Realistically, was I going to make it? I sure wasn’t getting any faster and it’s already been 24 hours. Would the legs be able to power through and endure the stacking problems that were inevitably yet to come? Before I could finish the mental debate, I headed up for lap 13.

Sure enough the sunrise brought a new sense of energy. The ascent was methodical and steady as always, and I was grateful that over 200 barefoot ascents of this peak revealed the most efficient way up. It was meditative in a positive way.

Okay, now the dreaded descent. Constantly braking to ease the pressure of foot placement. At this point I was wincing with most steps, from the pain of either the IT band or stepping on a featured rock. The skin on the soles was conditioned and tough, but extremely sensitive after 30 miles on the trail. The left IT band was seizing up too often now, becoming more than an hindrance – it had reached hazard status. Alright, time to listen to the body. A couple more friends caught up with me along the descent and said they were impressed with how fast I was moving based on the condition of my leg, but they couldn’t see the internal war I was having with every step.

Near the bottom a group of four hikers were heading up the mountain when one of them spotted me and said, “There he is! Cheer him on!” I smiled as a simultaneous wave of defeat came over me. I felt like I was letting the community down. I told them I was wrapping up, after only 13 laps. One of them replied, “ONLY 13 laps?!” He was blown away I had made it over 16,000 feet of elevation gain over 32 miles. His natural response allowed me a sense of accomplishment. We talked briefly and “admired” my filthy feet (secretly I was thrilled that I had been careful enough to avoid any major damage) and wished each other well. The community on Mt. Sanitas is amazing.

I knew I had only completed a Half Everest, but finding my limit was what I came to do, and that I did. Most people think barefoot hiking is a strange endeavor (stupid and crazy, even), but for some it brings joy. Do what you love and give it your all.“