Josh Kerr on his 'monastic' life, world record ambitions and the future of track and field

It was late on a crisp Glasgow night when Josh Kerr unlocked his hidden human side. Most of those who had roared themselves hoarse as he powered to Commonwealth gold had long gone. But after a few tears on the podium, Kerr spent more than half an hour posing for every selfie and signing every autograph.

It took quite some time, as the terminator on the track turned out to be a chatterbox off it. Although sometimes when he was asked for advice, Kerr couldn’t resist a flash of droll humour. “I was telling the kids to go to bed and telling the parents off,” he says, smiling.

Suddenly Kerr is even deeper in the moment, sharing how children kept showing him signs they had made for him, or telling him about their love of sport. The only request he turned down was for his Oakley sunglasses. Sorry, he replied, explaining that he wore them when he broke the mile world record last month. “I wanted to be there until everyone went home,” Kerr says. “And, to be honest, if you drink coffee at 6pm, you’re up all night anyway.”

Kerr can attest to that. When we meet the following morning, he confides that he has only had 15 minutes’ sleep. Not that it stops him giving all sorts of insights on his training, his use of red-light therapy, and why the 1500m world record will probably have to wait. So how much of the real Josh Kerr does the public see, I ask. “Probably not a crazy amount,” he says. “As athletes, we get a lot of criticism, and I’m OK with it. But it’s not something I want to drag my family into. That’s why I have a hard time pulling all of the information from my life and sharing everything.”

And while Kerr does put training videos on social media, he concedes that he doesn’t want his rivals to know him too well. “There’s a persona that comes on the track,” he says. “And if you were in that call room on Saturday you would have seen everyone’s personality come out. A lot of athletes were chatting and joking and doing their thing. All power to them, if that’s what makes them comfortable. It’s just not how I roll.”

Track and field’s iron man proved just as inscrutable when the mile race got under way on Saturday. With 500m to go he was boxed in and a fair way back. But then came a trademark display of muscular determination. There was a push, a surge, then an irresistible charge to victory.

Was Kerr ever worried? “No, I ran 3:42, man,” he says. “There’s not much you can do in a mile race that’s going to beat me. I’ve got great speed and I’m running in front of a home crowd. Jake Wightman was the only wild card. He’s an incredible athlete and can close very well. But I just couldn’t wrap my head around any other problem. There’s some fantastic 1500m guys right now, and Timothy Cheruiyot and Cam Myers are both fantastic. But I feel like I’m on a different level at the moment.”

Kerr is so monastic that when he finally got to his hotel at midnight, he celebrated with physiotherapy from his mum, Jill, and a meal from his personal chef, Jameel Austin: and a grand total of two chips. “We just hung out for about an hour chatting,” says Kerr. “My buddy and videographer Joey Youden got a chippy for everyone. I ate Jameel’s food, but I did have a couple of chips.”

Sometimes you suspect that even a Trappist might flinch at Kerr’s austere approach. He lives with his wife, Larimar, and their dog, Presidente, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he trains at 1,626m (5,335ft) above sea level and is usually in bed by 8.30pm. “We don’t do a lot,” he admits. “We live in the mountains in Albuquerque. I get up, work hard and go to bed. I have a pretty hard stop at 5pm and my wife gets home around 5.30pm. And between then and when we go to bed, which is ridiculously early, we just try and switch off.”

So what else does he like doing apart from walking the dog? “I’m a little bit of an audiobook podcast guy,” he says. “I like the For The Love of Rugby podcast and some American sports ones. But we don’t go out all that often. And there’s not much of a nightlife scene.” Might breaking the world record make him more recognisable when he returns? “It’ll be interesting when we go home,” he says. “But it’s Albuquerque. They’re not really super into their track and field. But it’s nice.”

Kerr is more expansive, though, when asked how the best season of his career came about. Much of it is down to his team, led by his highly respected coach, Danny Mackey, which also includes a personal chef, nutritionist, physiotherapist, chiropractor, strength and conditioning experts, massage therapists and pacers. But Kerr also emphasises the changes he has made in 2026, including lying down from 2-4pm every day and using red-light therapy.

His 10-mile run on a Thursday, which used to be at 6:40/mile pace, is now at 5:50 to six-minute pace, he says. While on Sundays his easy 17-mile long run has been tweaked, so sometimes he does a three-mile tempo at the end or puts in six minutes of harder effort on three separate occasions. “We know what my body is capable of before it breaks, which is around 73 miles a week,” he says. “So there’s no more volume, just more quality. It doesn’t sound like a huge change, but we put in two strength runs in there which has just allowed for a little bit more longevity in the season.

“But, if you’re going to add training and load, then the recovery needs to be pulled from somewhere else. So that’s why we committed to lying down every day from 2-4pm and then using the red light. And those two things have kept us in one piece.”

Kerr likes to be in control, but when it comes to his training he defers to Mackey. “Danny is definitely the evil genius behind it all,” he says. “We plan everything out and I just need to give him honest feedback. And if you can pull the ego out of your comments and concerns, and just go with the complete raw data, then it’s going to help him 100%.”

Kerr plays down talk that he could break Hicham El Guerrouj’s world 1500m record of 3:26.00 in the coming weeks, suggesting instead that it will probably have to wait until 2027 as his body might not be able to go again after winning the world indoor title over 3,000m in March, and then breaking the world mile record and winning Commonwealth gold in the space of a fortnight.

“I’m not scared of losing this form,” he says. “I will hold the 1500m world record in my career. I can say that with a full chest. But I’m not in a rush to do that. I think we are flying a little close to the sun at the moment, and so we need to make good decisions over the next few weeks. I can’t imagine it’ll be on the cards for this year.”

I ask Kerr what running has taught him about life? After all, he was not a teenage prodigy, but has relentlessly pursued his dream until he became a world beater. “That is a good question,” he says, pausing to think. “I’m just a normal guy. Look at my results from an early age. Look at my progression year on year.

“The big thing we always said while going through the age groups was no one remembers the Under-13 or Under-15 Scottish champion. Of course on race day we always wanted to win, but I always had a long-sighted goal for my whole career. But if you are determined enough, can stack enough training together, and stay away from injuries and stay smart, you can 100% do it.”

The Guardian report of Kerr’s gold medal race was the most read article on the entire website on Sunday morning. But, as I tell Kerr, while the majority of comments praise his victory, there were some arguing it should have been free-to-air on BBC One rather than on TNT. “I’m not someone that’s going to sit here and complain about what we don’t get and whatever,” he says. “If we put performances together and the numbers are good, then we’ll get our spot.

“We have to continue to show up and battle for our sport. But I think the sports that deserve to be on BBC One are on BBC One. It’s just how it is. And we’ve got some work to do.”

However Kerr does believe track and field is heading in the right direction and points to the $150,000 for each winner at the Ultimate Championships as a big step in the right direction. “How long has the cash prize been $70,000 to win the world championships?” he asks. “How long has the cash prize for the world record been $50,000? Thirty years? Forty years?

“World Athletics is doing a good job. But we need to keep pushing to get athletes racing each other more. However the biggest problem with the Diamond League is that you can’t pay all the best sprinters – and the best middle-distance runners – to be in the same start line.”

Kerr did his bit by signing up for Michael Johnson’s Grand Slam Track. But he was left with a gaping hole in his pocket after it collapsed after only three events. “I don’t care about me. I’m in a very lucky position,” he says. “But there are athletes that didn’t have sponsorships, or were working jobs, who won a hundred grand and it never came through the door.”

Before I go, I ask Kerr about those tears on the podium. “There was a couple, yeah,” he says, reluctantly. So what was he thinking? “When I spoke to the media, they were like: ‘what’s next: the 1500m world record?’ But I just wanted to enjoy seeing the Scotland flag up there.

“In sport we just continually rush through. In 2023, when I had my first proper win in the world championships, life was just moving a hundred miles an hour. So I was telling myself: ‘slow down, enjoy it, because we’re not guaranteed tomorrow.’” It’s that attitude that helps keep Kerr at the top of his sport. Even though, as he knows better than anyone, he has plenty of life left in the fast lane.