Golf is supposed to be slow. That’s part of the charm. You walk. You chat. You think too long about a five-foot putt. The game invites overthinking with open arms. But somewhere along the way, someone stood on the first tee, looked at their watch, and said, “What if I just sprinted this entire thing?”

Welcome to Speed Golf.

It’s exactly what it sounds like. Play a full round of golf while racing the clock. No carts. No caddies. Just you, a few clubs, and the willingness to run between every shot. It is equal parts strategy, athleticism, and chaos. And for a certain type of person, it’s the perfect way to play.

In Speed Golf, your final score is strokes plus time. If you shoot an 84 and complete your round in 56 minutes, your score is 140. Lowest number wins.

So you can’t just be fast. You still have to be good. You can’t just be good. You still have to move. That means jogging between shots while carrying your own golf bag and making decisions on the fly. Most players only carry 3 to 6 clubs to save weight and simplify choices. A lot of them don’t even bring a putter. They’ll chip it in or use a wedge.

You don’t stop to admire a good drive. You don’t pace off your distance. You pick, swing, and go. The clock is always running.

Christopher Smith set the world record in 2005. He shot a 65 in just 44 minutes. That’s six under par while running close to five miles with a bag on his back.

Speed Golfers are built different. They wear running shoes instead of spikes. They skip the cart and carry only what they need. A glove, a water bottle, and maybe five clubs. Nothing more. No one’s out there debating between a 7 and an 8 iron. You grab and go.

A lot of them don’t tee it up. They just drop the ball, take a quick breath, and swing. On the green, they’ll often hit a quick putt with a short iron and jog to the next hole before the ball even stops rolling.

It sounds ridiculous. Until you see someone birdie a par four while barely slowing down.

Speed Golf didn’t start on YouTube or in some weekend warrior Facebook group. It started in 1979. A guy named Jay Larson reportedly ran 18 holes in 29 minutes and shot a 91. Since then, the sport has grown into a global niche, with tournaments, sponsors, and dedicated athletes who train for it like any other endurance sport.

There are national championships. There’s a Speedgolf USA organization. It’s still small, but it’s legit. People are competing all over the world, and yes, there are even Speed Golf versions of Augusta—though they’re usually just played on private courses with very confused retirees sipping Bloody Marys at the turn.

An 18-hole walk is around 4 to 6 miles. Speed Golf asks you to run that with a bag of clubs, often uphill, across wet grass, while swinging 70 to 90 times.

It’s not a stroll. It’s a race. Your heart rate stays high the entire time. Your legs never get a break. Imagine running intervals with bursts of precision every few minutes. That’s Speed Golf.

And there’s a psychological edge too. Some players say they perform better when they’re moving. They don’t overthink. There’s no time to unravel mentally. You grip it, rip it, and go.

Try It Yourself

You don’t need a tournament. You don’t need permission. Next time you and your buddies are out, challenge each other to play a hole as fast as possible. Lowest strokes plus time wins. Use five clubs. Wear sneakers. See how it feels to chase your ball instead of waiting for it.

It’s weird at first. Then it clicks. Then it rules.

Speed Golf is golf stripped down to the essentials. Less waiting. Less overthinking. More movement. More instinct. For the right kind of player, it turns a four-hour stroll into a one-hour thrill.

Just don’t forget to stretch. And hydrate. Torn hamstrings and dehydration do not rule.

The Earth isn’t round. Not really.

It’s what scientists call an oblate spheroid. Slightly flattened at the poles and bulging at the equator. Like someone sat on a basketball.

This means if you’re standing at sea level in Ecuador, you’re actually farther from the center of the Earth than someone standing on top of Mount Everest. Let that sink in.

In fact, the peak of Mount Chimborazo in Ecuador is the farthest point from Earth’s core—not Everest. Chimborazo only stands about 20,500 feet above sea level, but thanks to the Earth’s bulge, it’s over 6,800 feet farther from the center of the planet than Everest is.

So technically, if you want to be the highest human on Earth, you go to Ecuador. Not Nepal.

GPS has to adjust for this bulge. Satellites orbiting above need to account for the fact that the planet is a little lopsided. Otherwise your phone might think you’re ordering pizza from the bottom of the ocean.