When Dr. Gladson Johnson tells you he ran 24 of his 25 marathons barefoot, he says it with a calm, grounded certainty. But to understand the power of those barefoot steps, you have to trace them back to where they began: in the scorching streets of a small village near Kanyakumari, where a 10-year-old boy, fresh off a plane from Bahrain, was mocked simply for wearing shoes.

Gladson grew up in Bahrain in the 1980s, the son of two Central Government employed healthcare professionals. It was a warm, structured life - cosmopolitan, multicultural, and protected. Until 1990. The Gulf War forced his family to leave overnight. One day he was in a vibrant classroom of many cultures. The next, he was in Tamil Nadu village where no one spoke his language - and where kids didn't wear shoes.

"They thought we were strange," he remembers. "We were the only ones in our entire school wearing shoes. They called us names, laughed at us, and physically, I just couldn't do what they did. I couldn't run. I couldn't climb. I couldn't even keep up."

That emotional and physical mismatch slowly morphed into anxiety, which then led to isolation. He began locking himself in his room, struggling to breathe - literally By the time he was 11, Gladson had developed asthma.

What followed were years of quiet disconnection. He didn't fit in. And he didn't know how to fight back. Not until college, when he enrolled in a Bachelor's in Physiotherapy program and made a decision that changed his life: he walked into a martial arts class.

"I was this scrawny, breathless kid. I couldn't even get through the warm-up. But something about the discipline... the repetition... it gave me hope," Gladson says.

He began training under Master Swaminathan Bhaskar, a third-degree black belt in Kyokushin Karate - widely considered one of the world's toughest martial art forms. The training was brutal. No shin guards. No body pads. No shortcuts.

"But Master never gave up on me," he says. "Even when I failed, he saw effort. And that changed how I saw myself."

Gladson went from lasting 5 minutes to training for six hours. He ran through forests. He sparred in freezing waterfall pools. His confidence wasn't built overnight - it was built over repetitions. And slowly, the boy who couldn't keep up... became the man who wouldn't stop.

Around this time, his academic world and physical world began to merge. What he studied in books - muscle mechanics, rehabilitation, recovery - he applied in the dojo and in his own body. That blend of science and experience shaped not only his healing but his philosophy as a future coach and doctor.

After graduating, Gladson  began practicing physiotherapy with a focus many clinics lacked: movement. "Most places relied heavily on machines," he says. "But I had experienced firsthand how movement heals. I wanted exercise - not electricity - to be my primary tool."

But even with a growing clinical career, something still felt missing. His mentor noticed it first.

"You've gotten strong at what you know," his teacher told him, "but now you must do something you fear."

That fear was running.

A breathless, asthmatic child has a complicated relationship with running. Gladson had avoided it all his life. But one morning, he stepped into a park and forced himself to run one lap. He drove home immediately, terrified his lungs wold collapse. But they didn't.

The next day, he ran a little more. And soon, he was covering kilometers. He began to notice a shift - not just in his body, but in his mind.

"That's when I understood what my teacher meant," he says. "It's not just about physical strength. It's about confronting the mental wall."

By 2010, he ran his first race - The Bengaluru Midnight Marathon. He followed it up with more. Then full marathons. Then barefoot. 25 marathons. 24 of them barefoot. He also completed ultra-marathons (50, 80, 110 KM) and triathlons - all barefoot.

      

"Running barefoot became a reclamation" he says. "As a child, I was mocked for wearing shoes. As an adult, I found strength without them."

But Gladson wasn't content just running. He wanted to bring people with him.

He founded the Raramuri Running Club - inspired by the indigenous Mexican tribe known for their long-distance running abilities. The club prioritized natural movement, community, and joy. He also became the race director of TROT (The Road or Trail), a barefoot-friendly race now in its 12th edition.

And then, something unexpected happened. A group working with HIV-infected children reached out to him.

"These kids were always in pain. Not because of their condition - but because no on had ever taught them how to move safely, "Gladson says.

He created a functional strength program for five children and told them: "You are now responsible for teaching the others."

Within months, 5 became 20. Then 40. Then 50. The kids began running. They began smiling. And in one of the most incredible outcomes - some of them began running 10Ks in under 35 minutes.

 Those children are now coaches themselves. They lead sessions for over 600 HIV-infected kids across the country. "I only lit the first match," Gladson says. "They lit the fire."

That principle - empowerment through example - is at the heart of everything he does. 

He calls it Role Modelism.

"Don't tell people what to do. Show them. Be the thing you want others to become," he says.

It's what led him to create Fitmasters, a 100-day online fitness program that combines strength, mobility, and education. Now in it's 11th season, Fitmasters has reached participants across give continents and eight time zones. There are no advertisements. No gimmicks. Just knowledge, discipline, and community.

His goal? To make 10 million people fit.

Not followers. Not likes. Not fame. Just fitness. Real, lasting fitness.

And it all began with a boy who didn't fit in. A boy who couldn't breathe. A boy who wore shoes when no one else did.

Now he runs barefoot - so others can rise on their own feet.

Dr. Gladson Johnson.

From asthma to ultra. From outsider to example. From pain to purpose.

This is his Athlit Story.