Craig Kent’s running journey began, like many, as a way to decompress. But what started as stress relief became something much deeper — a daily ritual, a life anchor, and eventually, a way to build community. We sat down with Craig in his kitchen, to talk about how he got started, what keeps him going, and how a simple love of movement grew into a 3,400-day run streak, a 300-mile desert race, and one of the most inclusive running clubs in Columbus.
- "Then I discovered ultras. With ultras, there’s less structure. You just go out and run." -
Luke: How did your relationship with running begin?
Craig: Honestly, it started as stress relief. I was always an active kid but never into organized sports. After college, when I got my first real job and was suddenly working 40+ hours a week, running became my way to reset. It gave me that freedom I had as a kid — to explore, to move, to get outside. It was the one thing in my life that wasn’t dictated by deadlines or money. Just mine.
Luke: Was there a specific moment where you thought: this is going to be part of my life now?
Craig: I thought maybe it would be a marathon — the classic "get the training plan, check the boxes" kind of thing. But every time I tried, I’d get injured. I’d roll an ankle, stop for a few weeks, and lose momentum. It started to feel like a job, and I hated that. Then I discovered ultras. With ultras, there’s less structure. You just go out and run. Long. Slow. Free. That’s when I really fell in love with it.
Luke: What did your early runs look like?
Craig: It started small — a mile or two here and there. I was in college, rowing on a club team, and we didn’t have parking, so I’d run to practice. Then I’d run the mountain bike trails at Alum Creek on weekends — six miles, no watch, just out there for the feel of it. That stayed my sweet spot for a long time. Even now, a three-miler can feel like a perfect reset.
Luke: Tell us about your run streak — how long has it been going?
Craig: Right now, I think I'm at 3,401 days. I track every run and title them by date, but I still mess it up all the time — I’ll look back and realize I’m off by a day or two, so I’ll pull up a date calculator just to be sure. What I do know is that I started on December 30th, 2015, and now I’m in year ten. I originally set out to see if I could do it for one year. I never thought it would turn into this.
Luke: Do you mark milestones — like 500 days, 1,000 days?
Craig: Yeah, the 100s feel good, but the 500s and 1,000s are different. There's something about getting past that 365 mark — like you’ve proven it’s not a fluke. Hitting 3,500 is my next goal. Not to stop, just to reach it.
Luke: Have you ever come close to breaking it?
Craig: A few times. One of the weirdest was during a rough day at work — I was teaching back then — and I came home, it was pouring rain, I felt awful, and I said, “I’m not going back out.” My partner, Erin, said, “Why don’t you just run inside?” And that’s exactly what I did: up and down the stairs, through the boys’ bedrooms, back and forth in our house. I ran barefoot in khakis and a button-down shirt. I think I did three or four miles and changed into running gear one layer at a time with each lap — just to keep the kids entertained.
Luke: That’s dedication. Any other near-misses?
Craig: A couple of bad ones. I had a 103° fever on Christmas Day one year. I was lying on the couch, crying, and my son — he was four at the time — said he’d run with me. Which meant he jumped on my back. So I ran a couple miles with a fever and a four-year-old on my shoulders. Another time I rolled my ankle really badly, couldn’t walk, so I duct-taped it and shuffled through the miles.
Luke: Is it ever hard to keep going — like it starts to feel like a chore?
Craig: Not really. I mean, sure, some days suck. But most days, I come back from a run feeling better. It gives me something I’ve done, something I’ve accomplished. And even on the worst days, it’s still mine. I don’t feel beholden to the streak — I just ask, “When am I doing it today?” That’s the only question.
- "It broke something open in me. Now, I know I’m capable of way more than I thought." -
Luke: Let’s talk about The Speed Project. How did you first get involved?
Craig: I actually found it by accident. I think it showed up in my social media algorithm — this wild race from LA to Vegas. No rules, no set course. I didn’t even think they had a solo option that year. Then COVID hit, and they announced a virtual version. I jumped at it.
At first, I planned this massive city-wide route across Columbus. Eventually, I just said screw it, and ran back and forth on the Olentangy Trail — the Audubon to Hills Market, over and over. It ended up being 31 hours and 15 minutes straight. We had an RV, a little support crew, people showing up at all hours. It was insane… but kind of perfect.
Luke: So that was your first taste — and then you did the real thing. What was that like?
Craig: I never thought I’d be cool enough to run The Speed Project in person. Everything about it feels gritty and underground. The safety meeting was in what looked like an abandoned building. Lights hanging from the ceiling, no electricity. It felt like Fight Club for ultrarunners.
Then you’re suddenly on Santa Monica Pier at 4 a.m. with this group of people who all somehow know each other, even if it’s the first time meeting. Everyone's nervous. You’ve got 300+ miles ahead of you and no idea how it’ll go.
Luke: Did it change the way you think about running?
Craig: Completely. I used to be one of those runners who thought, “I can’t eat this and then go run,” or “I need this much sleep.” But once you’ve been running through the desert for two days, all of that goes out the window. You realize: I can do hard things. I can run on no sleep. I can eat a full meal and go run ten miles.
It broke something open in me. Now, I know I’m capable of way more than I thought. That’s what that race gave me — not just a finish line, but proof.
Luke: There’s a moment I remember seeing it on a social media clip — you were walking, clearly struggling, and you said to yourself: “Okay. Let’s go.” What was going through your head?
Craig: Honestly, I was wrecked. It was one of those low points where the distance ahead feels so ridiculous, so impossible, that your brain just kind of gives up on logic. But then something inside me said, “What else are you gonna do?” You’re not stopping. So I said, “Okay. Let’s go.”
I use it all the time now. When things feel overwhelming, when I’m doubting myself, that’s the phrase that resets me. It’s not hype. It’s not bravado. It’s just a quiet agreement with myself to take the next step.
I think a lot of people deal with that — not just in running, but in life. When I’m out there, running becomes the way I prove to myself that I belong here. That I can do something meaningful. It’s not about ego. It’s about survival, in a weird way. About reclaiming belief in yourself.
Luke: How did GVRC (German Village Running Club) come about? Was starting a run club something you’d thought about before?
Craig: Inspiration for it started at The Sycamore, drinking a cocktail with Erin, and she told me: "I'd like to run. And I'm not a runner. How can I do that more in this coming year?" I did the classic, “Well, you are a runner — you run 2 days a week, 3 miles. You're a runner first and foremost.” But through conversation it came more down to safety and confidence — it was October, so it was getting dark earlier, and in Columbus it's not looking pretty at 5pm in the evenings through November, December.
So we said, why not try to start a run club? I never thought I'd be a leader, or a co-founder of a run club, but said: "Ok, I’m a logistics guy, let's put a few things into motion." We used Nextdoor — which is definitely not where I hang out — but I figured it would get it out to some people. And then it just… happened. We had our first meet-up. And now, three and a half years later, here we are.
Luke: Did you have any idea how much it would grow?
Craig: German Village Running Club is beyond anything I ever thought it would be. On a weekly basis we'll have five to six new people raise their hand and introduce themselves. I am blown away when I show up at 6:45 in the morning, on a Wednesday morning and in the summer we can have 80 people.
We are building something that people shy away from. Run clubs can be very scary to show up for the first time - I'm nervous to go to a run club for the first time! People that show up for a three mile run and the next thing you know they're running a marathon or a half marathon or a 5K, and they are just over the moon that they're doing that. That to me is what's the success in it.
But the growth isn’t what I care about most. The goals have always been simple: safety, respect, and making sure everyone feels like they belong. That’s what we’re about.
Luke: What kind of culture do you try to create within GVRC?
Craig: Inclusivity, first and foremost. There’s no pace hierarchy. Most people stay in one big pack — no one gets left behind. It’s not about competition, it’s about connection. And it’s self-policing in the best way. People look out for each other.
I also try to be intentional about welcoming new faces. When someone raises their hand and says, “It’s my first time,” I know how big that is. Run clubs can be intimidating — even for me, and I run one. So we try to break that barrier every time.
Luke: Are there moments that really stick with you?
Craig: One that stands out — a woman showed up last summer and told me she had never run before. Not never run in a group — never run, full stop. And she drove in from Dublin to get there before 7 a.m. I remember thinking, “Wow. Something we’ve built made her feel like this was possible.” That hit me.
There’s another couple who joined early on and always ran in the back with me. They told me, “We’ll never keep up with the main group.” A month later, I see them flying up front. Stuff like that happens all the time — people who start with a three-mile goal and end up doing marathons, or just finding confidence they didn’t know they had. That’s what I love most. Watching people prove themselves wrong, in the best way.
Luke: And for you personally — how has it changed your relationship with running?
Craig: Before GVRC, I ran 99% of the time by myself. That was my escape. My private space. I never thought I’d want to share it.
Now, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve met people I feel like I’ve known forever — and I’ve only known them two years. We’ll throw together a group run in an hour and it’s instantly this amazing vibe. I’ve made real friends, and I’ve seen people build entire communities off the back of it.
And what’s cool is that it’s not just us — it’s other clubs across Columbus too. There’s this big Venn diagram of people connecting, crossing over, showing up for each other. That’s the real power of it. Running brought us together, but the community is what makes it matter.
- "Those are the stories I remember most, because they proved to me that even in chaos, I can still find a way forward." -
Luke: You’ve talked about how running has evolved for you. What has it come to represent in your life now?
Craig: At this point, running is more than movement. It’s mental. Emotional. It’s where I go to feel like myself.
There are days where work is draining, or life is just... heavy. We all have those moments. And for me, running has always been the thing that cuts through that fog. Even if it’s just a few miles, I come back with a clearer head, feeling like I’ve done something. I can’t control everything, but I can put one foot in front of the other. I can choose to go.
Luke: How does that show up when things get really tough — like during The Speed Project, or when the streak is under threat?
Craig: It’s funny, because some of the worst days — the ones where I was sick or injured or just wiped out — ended up being the most memorable. The Christmas I had a 103-degree fever and ran with my kid on my back. Running loops inside my house in khakis. Those are the stories I remember most, because they proved to me that even in chaos, I can still find a way forward.
There were moments during The Speed Project where I wanted to quit. You’re 200 miles in, no sleep, hallucinating, and all you can think is: How am I supposed to finish this? But I’d hear myself say, “Okay. Let’s go.” Just that. And somehow, it worked. It moved me forward.
Luke: Do you think you’ll ever stop the streak?
Craig: I don’t know. I’ve never put a hard timeline on it. Right now, it still brings me joy. It still gives me something to look forward to, even when the day’s been rough. If that ever changes — if it starts to feel like a burden — maybe I’ll let it go. But not yet.
And if it does end someday, I’ll still be out there. Because running isn’t just a streak or a race or a club. It’s the thread that runs through everything. And I’m not done pulling on it yet.
Craig is one of the many runners that helped us test Uncommon Runner gear during development. In these photos, Craig wears a personalized TempoTech Tee and the Valcora-8 Running Shorts.
0 comments
