Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen

After a dangerous bus ride down a corkscrewing dirt road, the group arrived in Batopilas, “an ancient mining town tucked eight thousand feet below the lip of the canyon” (184). Caballo’s small clay-walled hut was only a short hike away but still hidden from sight. McDougall argues that “no one was ever more an expression of their place than Caballo was of his hut” (185). The next morning, Caballo took the entire group for a trail run to get them used to the terrain for their race the following day. Knowing that they would pass a freshwater spring on their 10-mile run through the mountains, they did not pack much food or water, but they later found the spring dry. With the group hustling back to civilization, Shelton and Barnett got separated from the others and found themselves lost and dehydrated in 100-degree heat without having eaten all day. They were eventually found by the others but not before they had made the risky decision to drink from a pond used by wild burros. Once off the mountain, they were given water and iodine pills to flush out any bacteria they might have swallowed.

In Chapter 27, McDougall discusses his training to prepare for the race. He explains that he had met Eric Orton while interviewing the sports adventure coach for a magazine article, but Orton was fascinated with his previous article about the Tarahumara and Caballo’s race. The two made a deal that Orton would train him for the race if Orton could come along. The first lesson was simply to learn to run. Orton explained that “for every other sport, lessons are fundamental,” and “running is the same way” (203). He then sent McDougall for a session with a sports physiologist in Virginia to learn a minimalist running approach that used “quick, light leg contractions” instead of longer strides (205). Eight weeks into Orton’s training, McDougall writes that he was running “more miles per week—at a much faster pace—than [he] ever had in [his] life” (208).

McDougall explains that he changed his diet as well. Basically, he began eating like the Tarahumara, with pinole, other vegetables, and fruits becoming staples. Into McDougall’s second month of training, Orton explained to him that the Tarahumara aren’t great runners, “they’re great athletes, and those two things are very different” (211). What he meant by this was that the Tarahumara are like modern-day Tarzans because their daily lives involve physical things that most people never experience, unlike modern-day runners who simply go out and run (211). Because of this, Orton had him doing raw strength drills before running instead of stretching (212). McDougall argues that “like Caballo, the Tarahumara secret had begun working for [him] before [he] even understood it” (212). 

In Chapter 28, McDougall steps away from his training and upcoming race to explore the Science of Running and The Evolution of Distance Running. He explains that during the 1980s, a student and his professor at the University of Utah studied the biological fact that fast-moving mammals, such as rabbits and cheetahs, can move fast but not for long periods. Humans, on the other hand, move much slower but for longer periods because we can breathe while running. This research led them to wonder why Homo sapiens survived but Neanderthals died out despite directly competing with one another and the latter being “stronger, tougher, and probably smarter” (219). The conclusion that they came to was running ability, and they based that on the fact that humans have a nuchal ligament at the base of the skull, just like other running mammals. Slow-moving mammals, such as pigs and chimps, do not have the nuchal ligament. What the researchers discovered is that “as the human body changed over time, it adopted key features of a running animal” (220). Clearly, however, “human running was about going far, not fast” (221).

As it relates to natural selection, this Running Man Theory still did not explain what good being able to run far is if you do not have the speed to catch the faster animals. Because we know the timeline of when weapons like spears and arrows came about, we also know that somehow “hominids were getting meat with their bare hands” for nearly two million years (226). The answer is what anthropologists call “persistence hunting,” which basically means that you are running an animal to death. McDougall explains that the science of persistence hunting is that “we can dump heat on the run, but animals can’t pant while they gallop” (228). If an animal runs continuously, it will eventually go into hypothermia (228). Researchers heard stories of persistence hunts but could not find anyone who had taken part or seen one. Finally, they heard from a researcher writing a book on animal tracking, who detailed his experience of going on a persistence hunt with a band of Kalahari Bushmen who still practiced the lost art.

McDougall explains that “travelers on horseback give themselves three days for the thirty-five-mile journey from Batopilas to Urique; Caballo planned to do it in one” (245). Caballo had arranged for the Tarahumara runners to meet the group there the following day. When the group arrived, they found that the famous runner Arnulfo Quimare and his cousin Silvino had come to meet them, as had Manuel Luna, the runner whose son had recently been murdered in the canyons. When Caballo introduced the Americans, he did so using the names of spirit animals he had given them all. According to McDougall, he was “tickled to think of [himself] as part of an All-Star Mixed Tarahumara-American Ultrarunning Team” (249).

McDougall begins Chapter 30 explaining that “Urique is a tiny, Lost World village sitting alone at the bottom of the canyon like a pebble at the bottom of a well” (250). For the two days before the race the group of American runners found a surprising level of excitement among the welcoming Urique citizens. The number of competitors had also increased to 25, as more Tarahumara runners began to show up (251). McDougall describes a scene he witnessed the day before the race in which Arnulfo and Jurek were running side-by-side as “two fiery silhouettes moving with identical rhythm and grace” (252). At the one restaurant in Urique, which hosted all the runners for a meal on the eve of the race, Caballo stood to deliver a toast saying that “there’s something wrong with you people. Rarámuri don’t like Mexicans. Mexicans don’t like Americans. Americans don’t like anybody. But you’re all here. And you keep doing things you’re not supposed to. I’ve seen Rarámuri helping chabochis cross the river. I’ve watched Mexicans treat Rarámuri like great champions. Look at these gringos, treating people with respect. Normal Mexicans and Americans and Rarámuri don’t act this way” (255).

Early on the morning of the race, Caballo and McDougall found the entire town at the starting line awaiting the runners, along with decorations and a playing mariachi band. The first surprise after the race began was that the group of Tarahumara runners who actually live in Urique rather than deeper into the canyons, the ones who unexpectedly showed up to run, jumped out in front but were slowed at the first river crossing because they insisted on pulling plastic bags onto their feet as to not get their new Salvation Army running shoes wet. McDougall explains that “thanks to the genius of Caballo’s planning, we’d all get to witness the battle in real time” (262). Caballo had set up the course in a Y pattern with the starting line in the middle so the spectators could see the race as it doubled back and so racers would always know where the leaders were (262).

The Y formation of the course also allowed Caballo to catch on to the fact that the Urique Tarahumara were using side trails to shave the course, which explains how they had opened up a four-minute lead on three of the greatest distance runners of a generation. He felt pity for them because this group of more modern Tarahumara had clearly lost their old way, but he disqualified them regardless (262). At the halfway point, the three top runners were just as expected: Arnulfo, Silvino, and Jurek, but the author was most amazed by his own progress and improvement. McDougall explains that Caballo decided to drop out of his own race, “not because he was losing; because he was in danger of missing the finish” (268). He cut back to Urique to get there in time to see Arnulfo win, followed by Scott and Silvino.

The closing chapter describes the post-race environment as the group gathered for a final meal together before going separate ways the following morning. McDougall explains that Caballo “launched into the story [McDougall had] been waiting nearly two years to hear” (275). Caballo told them that his birth name was Michael Randall Hickman, and he grew up a military brat, moving from town-to-town and getting bullied, so he learned to fight (276). He was good enough of a fighter to become a professional boxer while he attended college, billing himself as the Gypsy Cowboy (276). He began taking dives for small-time Mexican promoters until he had made enough money to move to Hawaii, where he fell in love with running and with a woman.

After a year, the couple moved to Colorado, and Caballo began to be recognized as a serious prizefighter. In the early 1980s, he won an ESPN-televised match against a nationally ranked kickboxer but retired afterward when his relationship ended. Caballo sunk himself into running to deal with his heartbreak and even won a double marathon but got sidetracked when he suffered severe injuries in a biking accident. He had just recovered from his injuries when he went to Leadville in 1994 and met his Tarahumara friends. When asked what he does for money, Caballo explained that every summer he heads back to Colorado, where he has a truck parked, and freelances as a furniture mover for a couple of months until he has enough money to last him a year, then he heads back to the canyons and resumes the identity of Caballo Blanco (281).