Flip Flop Man (Read 836 times)

I met the "flip flop" man while running on the Pinellas trail this morning. What a great guy! He runs hundreds of miles a week all in his flip flops. Can we say nuts? In a good way of course. I was so glad to have some company since the humidity was stifling to me and I was feeling like crap. Anybody else meet him? Boy this FL weather is killing me. I'm spoiled by the low humidity in California now. To think I used to run in this stuff all of the time.

That's a lot of miles. There are several barefoot runners who post here. One of them, barefoot jon (tetsujin on the Masters forum) does his trail miles in flip flops sometimes. This thread has my favorite title of all the threads. Though I thought it was going to be about someone who keeps changing his mind. Or someone who went running in the ice and had some challenges with it.

This thread has my favorite title of all the threads. Though I thought it was going to be about someone who keeps changing his mind. Or someone who went running in the ice and had some challenges with it.

There's the "Hi!" guy in Chicago. He wears flip-flops and other equally bizarre attire. Very annoying if he's around you... DW had the joy of that once. At one race he had flip-flops glued to his feet so he could go "strapless". I doubt he does 100 miles a week though... that's pretty impressive.

Here's a good article about flip-flop man, a.k.a. Larry Perrier: http://www.sptimes.com/2007/10/04/Life/Catching_up_with_the_.shtml It would be cool to run with him, but he probably runs too fast for my tastes!

Very interesting.

The Flip-Flop Man has a muscular 5-foot-10-inch frame and seems to lack any body fat whatsoever. In a normal week, he runs or walks 125 miles - 6,500 miles in a year. In 1995, what he calls his best year, he flip-flopped about 33 miles a day, approximately 230 miles a week, 12,000 miles in all - equal to a trip from St. Petersburg to Athens, Greece, and back. He is 62 years old. "He must have the constitution of Superman," says marathoner Bill Castleman. [...] When he took off running, I jumped on my bike and followed. I glanced at my speedometer. Twelve miles an hour. A 5-minute mile. In flip-flops. I stayed behind for a half-mile. "Call me sometime," he yelled over his shoulder. "We'll run together. I sometimes run with people even more overweight than you."