Karel Sabbe reclaims the Pacific Crest Trail speed record

Above: Karel runs north of Three Sisters

Words by Laura Markwardt. Photography by Will Saunders.

There’s a long list of emotions that capture the moment ultrarunner, Karel Sabbe, reset the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) speed record. With a new, supported fastest known time (FKT), the ultrarunner traversed 2,650 miles (4,265km) of the west-coast, running from the US-Mexico border to Canada in just 46 days, 12 hours and 50 minutes.

No stranger to fast times, Karel was the first person to hold the speed record for the PCT back in 2016. “The first time I set off to get the record, it was just because I couldn’t take enough time off to hike the trail, so I just decided to run it,” he laughs. “This is a hiking story, but I’m a runner.”

Time passes whether you stand still or keep moving. Karel first set the PCT speed record in 2016, completing the trail in 52 days, 8 hours, and 25 minutes, before ultrarunner Tim Olson bettered it in 2021, with a time of 51 days, 16 hours, and 55 minutes. Karel responded by doing what he does best – moving faster.

This time around, Karel’s vision pushed the limits of possibility: “I knew, theoretically, that it was feasible to knock a week off my original FKT, but to execute that in reality with my crew has been amazing.”

He explains that getting ahead at the start set him up for success: “We gave a big push for the first 12 days in the desert. I gained two days on the record and gave myself the freedom to have a shorter day if I needed to.” After that, Karel’s strategy was as simple as running one day at a time: “You can’t think about how far the trail is, how long the day is or how long the week is going to be. The key is to focus on short-term goals.”

The Belgian ultrarunner’s achievement is the latest in his long list of endurance precedents: from setting an FKT on the Appalachian Trail in 2018 – similarly grinding through the last 100 miles by running 40-hours straight – to taking the FKT for the Via Alpina in 2021, and making the finish line at the notoriously gritty Barkley Marathons, alongside only two other runners, earlier in 2023.

This 2023 PCT speed record encapsulates everything Karel’s capable of: traversing epic distance, technical terrain and challenging conditions – including this year’s late-melting snow drifts in the High Sierras, treacherous flooded rivers at Bear Creek and dramatic Washington wildfires – at a ground-breaking pace. 

Karel travels light. And yet despite his stoic demeanor, the immense challenge of reclaiming his PCT speed record – with high anticipation from the community-at-large – meant that the weight of expectation was heavy. “There was definitely more pressure than on my last attempt,” Karel says. “In 2016, it was just my brother-in-law and myself. We had bad maps, low tech and missed meet-ups. We just followed the rules. Now it’s a multi-layered pressure system.”

Karel isn't a single-focus endurance athlete. The “multi-layered pressure system” he describes refers to his life as a husband, father and a professional dentist, managing a busy practice. He’s a regular, real-world everyman – albeit exceptionally efficient: “I’m not a professional runner,” Karel explains, “Like many people, I try to find a balance between working, running, family and social life. Going for an FKT is like facing any challenge – finding ways to overcome difficulty is a theme that unites us all.”

As a parent, Karel has mastered the art of operating on sub-optimal sleep. And, lucky for him, it’s a transferable skill – grabbing rest on the trails while maintaining momentum is one of the biggest challenges of setting a speed record. “A strong mental mindset to push through is the most important thing to do well,” says Karel.

There’s a reverence to the way Karel talks about running, a path that contrasts with his usual structured routine as he seeks solace in the simple act of moving forward: “Normally, I have almost no time to not think about anything. My life is extremely busy with my dental practice, so getting on the trails is welcome. I only need to run, sleep and eat and that’s it. And there’s so much beauty in that.”

Being in nature is also a balm for the soul: “There’s not much you need to be happy and in a fast society, it’s an important lesson.” 

It’s that drive to step temporarily outside a “fast society” – ironically by running fast to set records – that lies at the heart of why Karel keeps going back. Beyond the recognition he gets from the endurance community, he knows he’s not alone: “The rise of ultra-running is partly because of people looking for a reconnection to nature. The reasons I keep going back are evolving, but my foremost drive is natural beauty – being out there and having a good time in the wilderness.” 

He acknowledges that running fast to immerse himself in nature – especially on a trail so closely connected to the hiking community – is optional: “Sometimes people say that running the PCT is a wasted opportunity – that you have to hike it and smell the roses, so to speak, but then they see the passion in my eyes. I just love running."

“My adventure now is just the beauty and the suffering. The added dimension of setting records adds excitement and story – it’s fun to be pushing myself.”

Karel knows his latest FKT will be challenged again, but his stories will last forever. His latest record reads like an epic, packed with pride, honor and adversity. Karel makes the 2,650 miles (4,265km) – including a total of 400,000 feet (122,000 meters) of elevation gain, equal to climbing Everest 14 times – tangible, like a book. “There are five chapters in the PCT: the desert, the Sierras, Northern California, Oregon and Washington. They’re all different in their own way.”

Above: Teamwork to refuel and recover

The effect of climate change on the PCT imbued each stage with a heightened sense of urgency. Karel faced smoke and wildfires from mid-Oregon up to the Canadian border – with a forced closure of 50 miles (around 80 km) of trail at Dome Peak and Blue Lake in Washington State due to fires. He kept going with a 100-mile detour – adding 50 miles to his expected distance overall – and an extra day of running.  

“I was surprised to see how much of the forest had burnt down. It’s always sad when you’ve seen a place in good health – remembering it as once beautiful and peaceful, when it’s now laid bare and barren.”

Above: Otherworldly burnt landscape and lava fields near Oregon

Karel’s support crew, including his wife, Emma, kept him moving, “A big motivation to push hard was to show my support crew respect. I don’t take any of this for granted.” Karel’s parents and young son, Jack, joined them – to rally Karel with encouragement, fresh laundry – and well-earned sustenance – at intervals on the trails. 

Burgers, french fries, candy: Karel needed to consume at least 10,000 calories a day to keep going. He explains that with the record in his sights – far from his dental practice – fuel is fuel, and sugar-packed drinks did the job, “We counted how much soda I consumed over the FKT and it was about 550 cans, which is extreme.” 

When it comes to the effects of ultrarunning on his smile, a short-term corrosive compromise is the price Karel’s willing to pay, “All endurance sports are bad for your teeth because you’re constantly taking in carbohydrates and sugars.” Karel doesn’t drink soda in his regular life, “but this was two months of heavy pressure on my teeth,” he adds, “I just hope I don’t have any cavities.” 

Above: Fuel is fuel. Wife Emma, son, Jack and team show their support

Fuel of a different kind came from the effervescent energy of the PCT community, “Often on my run, hikers would tell me I was crushing it. Before this FKT, people like Joe McConaughy and the previous record holder, Tim Olsen, reached out to wish me all the best. But what mattered most was the support of the thru-hikers. Even passing tents at 4:30am to run at dawn [due to sweltering midday temperatures], I heard, ‘Is that Karel passing by? Good luck man! You’re an inspiration,’ that meant a lot to me.”

Karel embraced technology to bring others on his journey. A live online tracker with a 24-hour feed visible at every stage of the PCT showed his real-time progress. For fans and followers, it was a great way to stay invested in Karel’s performance and the likelihood of reaching – and exceeding – his FKT goal.

Compared to 2016, everything was amplified this time around, even his senses were cranked up to 11. Karel recounts covering so much distance a day, that while his feet suffered, his smell and hearing inversely became sharper. 

Attuned to the PCT and its ecosystem, Karel discovered there was a relationship between his energy and that of the landscape. When his surroundings were depleted, he felt it too, “I felt towards the end when I got more tired, that it was more difficult when it was scenically less beautiful – in long, burnt areas – on a fire detour when I had to do miles on a gravel road – but other than that, scenic beauty pushed me forward.” 

Karel has range. Not just in the distances he can cover, but in the disciplines of his life. He runs the trails without fear because, despite his records, FKTs don’t define him. He returns home to his native Belgium, holding his family and friends close. You get the sense that Karel’s not searching for something more, but finding peace as he navigates ever-evolving landscapes.

Above: Karel with his family and crew support. From left: Karel’s wife Emma Vandoorne, Anna Vandoorne, Henri De Veene, Kobe Blondeel (in blue shirt), Karel, father Peter, mother Vivian and son, Jack. Photo taken in Cascade Locks, Oregon before Karel passed over the Bridge of the Gods into Washington.

Right now, just as the landscapes of the PCT need time to heal, Karel’s protecting his energy. Recovery can’t be rushed, he says: “It’s been an intense and beautiful year – my experiences have been positively transformative. But the draining effect that setting an FKT has on your body is incredible. I’d always planned on having a sabbatical after this and taking a rest to respect my mind and body.” 

It seems unlikely that he’ll stay away from the trails for long, though: “I’m not racing next year, or at least, not taking on anything competitive to set records.” He pauses, “But running? I’ll always be running.” Best keep the soda on ice.