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Iskander Yadgarov is a Russian athlete, software engineer at Revolut and marathon runner with an impressive personal best of 2:14:07, having won the Moscow Marathon twice. Now living in Portugal, he has become known for his unusual challenges, including running a marathon in Crocs in Berlin and, just a few weeks later, completing the Porto Marathon in 2:28:29 while wearing jeans. In this exclusive interview with Correr por Prazer, he talks about his passion for running, life in Portugal, balancing his professional career with training, and his desire to keep pushing the limits of what seems possible — always with a great sense of humour and without losing the joy of running.
What on earth made you decide to run a marathon in Crocs? Was it just a crazy experiment, or did you genuinely believe you could achieve a remarkable time?
To understand why I decided to run a marathon in Crocs, you first need to understand what kind of runner I am. I’ve always been a little crazy when it comes to running. I love challenging myself, experimenting, and exploring the limits of what my body can do. Simply running fast has never been enough for me. I need something extra to make things interesting.
Alongside my regular training and attempts to improve my personal bests, I’ve spent my entire running career inventing unusual challenges. Running a marathon in Crocs was simply another way to test my abilities and find out how much performance really depends on footwear.
And believe it or not, I was actually hoping to run much faster. I’m convinced that with proper preparation and a specific goal, I could significantly improve on the time I achieved in Berlin.
But there was also a message behind this experiment. I wanted to demonstrate that our physical condition and preparation are ultimately more important than the equipment we use.
Of course, modern running shoes and advanced technology can provide a significant performance advantage. I don’t deny that at all. But without a strong, healthy, well-trained body, none of that equipment will make much difference.
In that sense, my marathon in Crocs was more than just an unusual challenge. It was a kind of manifesto about what truly matters in running.
How painful was it? Did you ever regret your decision during the race, or did you actually enjoy the experience?
I regret running a marathon almost every time I do one!
Before every marathon, I convince myself that this time it will be different. I imagine running fast, feeling comfortable, and enjoying the experience. But somewhere after the 30-kilometre mark, I inevitably start questioning every decision that brought me to the starting line.
I’ve told myself countless times that I hate marathons and never want to run another one. Even when I’ve won races or achieved excellent results, the final kilometres have always been incredibly painful.
That’s why I wouldn’t blame all the suffering in Berlin on the Crocs. I’d say the shoes were responsible for about half of it, while the marathon itself contributed the other half.
The biggest problem with the Crocs was the friction. They caused painful blisters that became increasingly uncomfortable as the race progressed.
Apart from that, though, I was actually quite impressed with them. If it weren’t for the blisters and rubbing, I’d say Crocs are surprisingly good shoes.
The real problem is that running 42 kilometres at a competitive pace is never particularly comfortable, regardless of what you’re wearing.
What was the reaction of other runners when they saw you at the starting line in Crocs? Did anyone take you seriously?
The reactions changed significantly as I continued racing in Crocs, because each new challenge made more people aware of what I was doing.
My first experiment was a 10-kilometre race in Barcelona. Nobody knew who I was, and people were genuinely shocked to see someone in Crocs running alongside competitive athletes and fighting for a top-ten finish.
Later, I ran a half marathon in Valencia. By then, more people were starting to recognise me. Spectators cheered when they noticed the Crocs, and other runners began to understand that I wasn’t simply there to make a joke.
Then came a one-kilometre race in Moscow, which I actually won wearing Crocs. By that point, many runners already knew me, especially in Moscow. I think some of my competitors were slightly horrified by the possibility of losing to someone wearing Crocs. Unfortunately for them, that’s exactly what happened!
Berlin was the culmination of that entire journey.
By the time I arrived at the marathon, people already knew about my challenge. Other runners recognised me at the starting line, and throughout the race, athletes who passed me would wish me luck and encourage me to keep going.
The support from the spectators was equally remarkable. After finishing, people approached me to shake my hand, congratulate me, and ask whether I’d managed to break the world record.
What impressed me most was how emotionally involved everyone became.
If you think about it, running a marathon in Crocs is a rather ridiculous idea. It’s not something that should be taken particularly seriously.
Yet people genuinely cared about the outcome. They followed the challenge, supported me, and celebrated the result as if they had been part of it themselves.
That meant a great deal to me. I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who supported me, because creating those shared emotions is one of the most rewarding aspects of these challenges.
You have a marathon PB of 2:14:07 and have won the Moscow Marathon twice. How did you become such a strong distance runner, and what drives you to keep improving?
Interestingly, I don’t consider myself an exceptionally strong marathon runner. I’ve spent most of my life training alongside professional athletes, so my perception of what constitutes a fast runner is probably a little distorted.
No matter how hard I train or how much I improve, I’m constantly surrounded by athletes who are faster than me. As a result, I’ve never really felt that my achievements were particularly extraordinary.
At the same time, I recognise that I have a certain natural talent for endurance running. I sometimes joke that, just as Kenya has its famous Kalenjin runners, I come from my own endurance tribe in Russia: the Tatars. My ancestors lived a nomadic lifestyle, so perhaps some of that endurance was passed down to me!
Of course, talent alone doesn’t produce results. I’ve been training consistently since my university years, often twice a day, while maintaining a full-time career as a software engineer.
Every second I’ve shaved off my marathon time has required considerable effort. I believe I still have the potential to run significantly faster, but I also understand how much dedication that would require.
One of my biggest challenges is that I have too many interests. I enjoy experimenting with different distances, taking on unusual challenges, and pursuing projects outside running. If I focused all my energy on one specific athletic goal, I believe I could achieve much more.
But ultimately, what keeps me running is something much simpler: I genuinely love it.
I love training, challenging myself, and feeling my body work. I don’t even need to compete to enjoy running.
Sometimes I want to chase a personal best. Sometimes I want to race in a ridiculous costume and make people laugh. Both experiences are equally meaningful to me.
Running is an essential part of my identity. It’s what makes me feel alive.
Just weeks after Berlin, you ran the Porto Marathon in jeans, finishing in 2:28:29. How did this idea come about? Were the jeans actually more comfortable than the Crocs?
The truth is that I wasn’t properly prepared for either marathon.
Revolut had given me an entry to the Berlin Marathon, which was going to be my first World Marathon Major. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity, but I knew I wasn’t in the shape required to chase a serious personal best. Running in Crocs seemed like a good way to make the experience memorable.
After Berlin, I continued training but realised that I probably wouldn’t reach my desired level of fitness for a serious marathon attempt that year. I hadn’t completed a single training run longer than 25 kilometres, so I certainly wasn’t prepared for another marathon.
However, I saw this as an opportunity. If I wasn’t going to chase a personal best, why not have some fun with another unusual challenge?
The Porto Marathon starts practically next to my home, and I’d previously seen runners attempting races in jeans. I was curious about how difficult it would be and how fast I could run without proper marathon preparation.
Surprisingly, running the flat Berlin Marathon in Crocs was much easier than running the hilly Porto Marathon in jeans.
The jeans themselves weren’t particularly uncomfortable. In fact, having carbon-plated racing shoes made running considerably easier than it had been in Berlin.
The real difficulty was the Porto course. Between the hills, strong winds, changing weather conditions, and cobblestone sections, it’s a demanding marathon even when you’re properly prepared.
Without sufficient marathon-specific training, the final kilometres became an absolute nightmare. The last 400 metres are uphill, and for the first time in my life, I finished a marathon feeling genuinely nauseous.
Fortunately, I managed to have a Super Bock shortly after finishing, and that seemed to help!
So, from a purely practical perspective, running in jeans is definitely easier than running in Crocs. The jeans didn’t restrict me nearly as much as I expected, and they even had pockets, which turned out to be surprisingly useful.
Despite the suffering, I don’t regret the experience at all. Seeing the spectators laugh, cheer, and enjoy the challenge made everything worthwhile.
Being able to entertain people and bring positive emotions to a sporting event is something I value enormously.
After running marathons in Crocs and jeans, what’s next? Is there any other unusual challenge you’d love to take on?
I’m certain there will be more unusual challenges in the future, although I haven’t decided exactly what comes next.
I generally reserve these experiments for periods when I’m not preparing for a major competitive goal. When I’m in excellent shape, I prefer to use that fitness to chase personal records. But when things aren’t going according to plan, unusual challenges are a great way to keep running exciting.
A lot of people have suggested combining my previous experiments and running a marathon in both jeans and Crocs.
My answer is simple: I don’t hate myself that much!
Running a marathon is painful enough without deliberately combining two additional sources of suffering.
One challenge that genuinely interests me is running a marathon in a tuxedo. I know there’s a world record of approximately 2:36 for that category, and I think it would be an interesting target.
I’ve actually raced in a tuxedo before. Several years ago, I attempted to win a five-kilometre race in Moscow while wearing one. Unfortunately, I became incredibly hot and struggled just to finish.
That experience taught me that running in a tuxedo is much harder than it looks, which makes the marathon challenge even more interesting.
In any case, I’m never short of ideas. I suspect I’ll have enough unusual running challenges to keep myself entertained for the rest of my life.
You work as a software engineer at Revolut while maintaining a demanding training schedule. How do you balance your professional career with competitive running?
I’ve been asked this question throughout my entire life, and I still find it difficult to answer because, for me, this lifestyle has always been normal.
I’ve spent my entire adult life combining full-time work with serious athletic training, often twice a day. I don’t perceive these activities as competing priorities. On the contrary, I believe they complement each other.
IF I ONLY WORKED AND DIDN’T TRAIN, I’D PROBABLY GO CRAZY.
Physical activity is essential for my mental well-being, concentration, and productivity. Sometimes even one training session a day doesn’t feel sufficient.
At the same time, I couldn’t imagine dedicating my entire life exclusively to sport. I need intellectual challenges, complex problems to solve, and opportunities to develop professionally.
My work keeps my mind active, while running provides the physical and emotional balance I need.
I’m also fortunate when it comes to family life.
My wife has a professional background in sport and rehabilitation. She’s an excellent rehabilitation specialist and effectively serves as my second coach.
Years ago, when I suffered a serious lower-back injury, she played a crucial role in my recovery. Today, she manages my strength training and helps me maintain the physical resilience required for competitive running.
I believe that’s one of the reasons my body tolerates demanding training and unusual experiments, including running in Crocs, so well.
We also both work remotely, which allows us to spend a great deal of time together. We share our meals, our daily routines, and much of our free time.
As a result, I don’t feel that my professional or sporting commitments come at the expense of our relationship.
I don’t think there’s a universal formula for balancing work, sport, and family. Everyone has different circumstances and priorities.
The key is finding a system that works for your own life. I’ve found mine.
You are currently living in Portugal. What brought you here, how long have you been living here, and what do you enjoy most about life in Portugal?
I moved to Portugal four years ago when I joined Revolut.
At the time, I was offered a choice between Berlin and Porto. Interestingly, I’d never visited either city, so I had to make the decision without really knowing what to expect.
Ultimately, the climate was the deciding factor.
I’ve always struggled with cold winters, particularly in Moscow, and Portugal seemed like an opportunity to live somewhere with much milder weather.
Of course, reality turned out to be slightly different from my expectations. I hadn’t anticipated how cold the Atlantic Ocean would be, how strong the coastal winds could get, or how rainy the winters sometimes are.
Nevertheless, I’m happy with my decision.
What I appreciate most about Porto is its atmosphere. The city offers a sense of comfort, cleanliness, tranquillity, and security that makes everyday life very pleasant.
One side of my personality genuinely enjoys this peaceful environment.
Another side, however, misses the energy and opportunities of a large metropolis. Porto can’t fully compete with major international cities in terms of infrastructure, entertainment, and the variety of experiences available.
But one of the most important things I’ve found here is a strong running team.
I’m fortunate to train with an excellent coach and a fantastic group of athletes. Having the right people around me makes it possible to continue pursuing ambitious sporting goals while enjoying life in Portugal.
That balance is something I truly value.
Do you think running has become too serious, with so much focus on expensive shoes, technology and performance? Have we sometimes forgotten what running is really about?
I’d almost argue the opposite: in some ways, running has become less serious rather than more serious.
Professional and highly competitive runners generally don’t spend as much time obsessing over every detail of their equipment as people might imagine.
That said, I see absolutely nothing wrong with expensive running shoes, advanced technology, or high-quality clothing. I enjoy good equipment myself.
What matters is that everyone should be free to decide what running means to them.
Some people are motivated by performance and competition. Others enjoy the lifestyle, the clothing, the technology, or simply the experience of looking and feeling good while running.
All of these motivations are perfectly legitimate.
I don’t believe there’s a correct or incorrect reason to take part in the sport.
WHAT MATTERS ISN’T WHY PEOPLE RUN, BUT THE FACT THAT THEY’RE RUNNING AT ALL.
Personally, I’ve always had a rather unconventional and carefree approach to the sport. I’m not particularly concerned about what I’m wearing or which shoes I have on my feet.
That’s simply part of my personality, and it explains why I enjoy experimenting with unusual equipment.
But I certainly don’t expect everyone else to approach running the same way.
The beauty of running is that it can mean something different to every person. There’s room for serious competition, technological innovation, fashion, entertainment, and pure enjoyment.
None of these things needs to exclude the others.
If you could give one piece of advice to someone who thinks they’re too slow or not good enough to start running, what would you tell them?
My advice would be to stop measuring your value as a runner against other people.
Running is fundamentally an individual journey. The most important thing is your own development, your experience, and what the sport brings into your life.
If it makes anyone feel better, I often consider myself a slow runner too.
I’ve spent years training and competing alongside extremely talented athletes, many of whom are significantly faster than me. If I constantly judged myself by their results, I’d have plenty of reasons to feel inadequate.
But that would be absurd. Why should someone else’s speed determine whether I deserve to enjoy running or pursue my own goals?
Everyone needs to discover their own motivation. It might be improving their health, achieving a personal best, spending time outdoors, meeting people, or simply enjoying the process.
Competition and comparison can be useful additional sources of motivation, but they should never become the foundation of your relationship with running.
And there’s something else I’d like to tell slower runners: you actually have an advantage that many experienced athletes would love to have.
You have enormous potential for visible improvement.
At my level, I can spend years training incredibly hard just to improve my personal best by a few seconds. And when that happens, I’m genuinely delighted.
Meanwhile, less experienced runners can sometimes improve their results by several minutes, or even take an hour off their marathon time.
Imagine being able to see such dramatic progress. Watching yourself become stronger, faster, and more capable is one of the most rewarding experiences running can offer.
So don’t be discouraged by your current level.
Find your own reasons to run, enjoy the process, and appreciate every step forward.
In fact, I sometimes envy slower runners because they still have so many exciting improvements ahead of them.
