Absurdity, athleticism, and an upside-down piggyback ride: the Wife-Carrying World Championships tick all the boxes for the kind of competition that sounds made up but, to the delight of the internet (and me), is very, very real. This year’s edition, held for the 28th time in Sonkajärvi, Finland—a small town whose claim to fame is, understandably, this event—delivered a bit of history: for the first time in the race’s long, sudsy legacy, a non-European couple took home the gold. Caleb and Justine Roesler of Wisconsin bested the field and, perhaps more difficult, global expectations.
The couple set a new course record with a 1:01.17 sprint through the gauntlet, winning—notably—Justine’s weight in beer, as Canadian Running Magazine reports. For those keeping score at home, that means every strategic carb-load and Midwestern fry probably counted just a little extra.
Worlds Apart, But Occasionally Together
According to VnExpress, the contest drew roughly 200 competitors from 18 countries, running the 253.5-meter course for an audience of nearly 2,000 spectators. Defending champions from Lithuania finished just behind the Wisconsinites, with Finland’s nationally revered pair in third place. Since its founding in 1992, noted by both outlets, champions of the Wife-Carrying World Championship had all come from Finland, Lithuania, Estonia, or Russia—until now.
As Canadian Running Magazine also details, the Roeslers earned their ticket to the world championship by winning the 2024 North American Wife-Carrying qualifier in Maine. Their victory on the world stage, then, was the result of training, coordination, and perhaps a willingness to get a little wet for glory. “There aren’t many wives in the world who would agree to this,” Caleb Roesler told media after the contest, as quoted by both VnExpress and Canadian Running Magazine. “She did a great job. We went under water and she didn’t panic—so we’re happy. I’ve never done anything like that—jumped into a water puddle with my wife.” Not panicking while hanging upside-down in a meter-deep pool: arguably the sport’s most underrated requirement.
Rules Written by Comedians, Administered by Engineers
While the event’s title might conjure visions of tradition-bound, old-fashioned contests, the rules are surprisingly flexible—if a bit surreal. As described by Canadian Running Magazine, competitors don’t need to be married, or even romantically linked; anyone willing (and eligible) can be the “wife.” The rules specify that the “wife” must be at least 17 years old and weigh a minimum of 49 kg, with a weight belt provided for the lightweights. Helmets are mandatory for the carried partner, presumably because no world championship should result in accidental concussions, and carriers are allowed to wear a belt.
The most common—and undeniably photogenic—technique is known as the “Estonian carry.” Here, the “wife” hangs upside-down with legs wrapped around the carrier’s shoulders, her head near his lower back. This, as both sources explain, leaves the carrier’s arms free and maximizes speed, if not dignity. The course itself includes two dry-land obstacles and a one-meter-deep water pit—not so much an obstacle course as a crash course in balance and teamwork.
Perhaps most charmingly, the rules explicitly require having fun. This is not just wise from a legal perspective; it’s a welcome reminder that not every international test of strength needs to be staged in dead-serious silence.
The Beauty of Global Quirk (and Sudsy Rewards)
International sports can get fiercely competitive, but it’s rare to see an event approach camaraderie with the same enthusiasm as athletic rigor. The 2025 Wife-Carrying World Championships brought together competitors from nearly twenty countries in a contest where love, agility, and a hefty dose of humor are all prerequisites. VnExpress points out the event’s record for participation and reminds us that, despite all the spectacle, the all-time fastest performance stands at 56.09 seconds, a mark set by an Estonian pair in 2006. The bar for excellence, apparently, is as high as the water pit is deep.
And about that prize: Canadian Running Magazine highlights that the winning team’s reward is the “wife’s” weight in beer. At what other world championship do officials need both a stopwatch and a scale to determine the victor’s bounty? It’s difficult to imagine a more fitting testament to the event’s priorities, blending a sense of occasion with a very European practicality.
Beyond the spectacle, there’s something oddly meaningful here. In an era where international gatherings often spell tension, this one offers a space where nationals of all stripes can commiserate over the universal challenge of keeping your partner’s head out of the water. It’s an event where teamwork, trust, and the ability to laugh while upside-down all matter. Isn’t there something refreshingly earnest about a sport that insists both on fun and a helmet?
One wonders what other international oddities are waiting on the sidelines, ready to challenge the definition of “sport.” And, perhaps more importantly, what else can we learn from events where triumph is measured in seconds—and beer?
