The only thing we see with that much calorie burn are marathon runners
In the long argument over what makes a body an athlete's body, Kevin Harvick has offered something rarer than opinion: evidence. When ESPN commentator Stephen A. Smith dismissed NASCAR drivers as non-athletes, Harvick turned to fitness data from races he'd worn a tracker through — data that surprised even the company that made the device. The exchange is less about one commentator's credibility than about the persistent human tendency to judge what we have not lived.
- Stephen A. Smith's sweeping dismissal of NASCAR drivers as non-athletes landed like a spark in dry grass, igniting frustration among those who know the sport from the inside.
- Harvick pushed back not with volume but with numbers — a fitness tracker worn during a 500-mile race recorded 3,200 calories burned, a figure so high that the manufacturer assumed the device was broken.
- When a replacement watch recorded 2,400 calories at the next race, Polar reversed course entirely, telling Harvick that only marathon runners produce that kind of sustained caloric output.
- The confrontation has widened into a broader reckoning about who gets to define athletic legitimacy — and whether loud platforms should come with any obligation to understand what they're judging.
Kevin Harvick had grown weary of a particular kind of dismissal. When ESPN's Stephen A. Smith declared that NASCAR drivers weren't athletes, Harvick chose to respond not with outrage but with data — and the story that data told was more compelling than any argument.
On his Fox show SPEED, Harvick was direct about Smith's credibility gap. He didn't object to criticism of the sport, he said, but to criticism from someone who clearly knew nothing about it. It was a measured rebuke, not a heated one.
The real weight of his case came from an experiment he'd run years earlier. He'd partnered with Polar, the fitness tracking company, to wear a device during races. At his first event — a grueling 500-mile race fought under extreme heat and constant physical strain — his watch logged 3,200 calories burned. When he reported the number, Polar assumed the device was faulty and sent a replacement. The next race, with more caution flags easing the intensity, registered 2,400 calories.
Polar called back with a different tone. Both readings were accurate. The only other athletes they'd seen sustain that kind of caloric output, they told him, were marathon runners. A company whose entire business is measuring human exertion had just validated what Harvick already understood from the inside.
The episode points to something beyond the Smith dispute. It's about the gap between intellectual assumption and lived experience — and the confidence people bring to opinions formed entirely from the outside. Harvick's ask was modest: if you don't know what you're talking about, perhaps don't. The data was simply the proof he happened to have on hand.
Kevin Harvick was tired of hearing it. Stephen A. Smith, the ESPN commentator with a megaphone and a habit of pronouncing judgment on sports he doesn't follow closely, had recently declared that golfers and NASCAR drivers weren't athletes. Harvick, a NASCAR legend with decades in the cockpit, decided to set the record straight—not with anger, but with data.
On a recent episode of SPEED, the Fox show he hosts alongside IndyCar's Will Buxton, Harvick didn't mince words about Smith's credibility gap. "This guy has no clue about racing," he said flatly. "I don't mind people criticizing our sport or our drivers, but if you don't know anything about racing, just keep your opinion to yourself because you shouldn't even have an opinion if you don't know anything about a sport." It was a measured rebuke, the kind that comes from someone secure enough not to need to shout.
But Harvick had something better than rhetoric. He had numbers. A few years back, he'd decided to get serious about his fitness and reached out to Polar, the company that makes fitness trackers and smartwatches, to see if they'd outfit him with a device he could wear during races. They agreed. At his first event—a 500-mile race, the kind that keeps a driver locked in a cockpit for hours under brutal heat, making constant micro-adjustments to the wheel, fighting g-forces through turns—Harvick's watch recorded something striking: 3,200 calories burned.
He called Polar to report the number. Their response was skeptical. A representative told him they were sending a replacement watch because the first one had to be faulty. "There's no way you're expending that much energy," they said. "You're just a race driver." The assumption was reasonable on its surface: how could sitting in a car compare to running a marathon or playing football? But Harvick agreed to wear the new device at the next race. This time, with a few more caution flags breaking up the intensity, he burned 2,400 calories.
When Polar called back, their tone had shifted. The first reading wasn't a malfunction. Both watches were working correctly. The representative told Harvick something that seemed to genuinely surprise him: "The only thing that we see with that much of a calorie burn or constant heart rate are marathon runners." A company that measures human exertion for a living had just confirmed what Harvick already knew—that driving a race car at speed, for hours, in extreme heat, while managing a vehicle that's trying to kill you, demands a physical toll that rivals endurance athletes.
It's a small story, really. A data point. But it cuts to something deeper than whether Smith was right or wrong. It's about the gap between knowing something intellectually and understanding it viscerally. Smith had never sat in a stock car. He'd never felt the sustained g-forces, the dehydration, the mental load of split-second decisions at 180 miles per hour. And rather than acknowledge that gap, he'd filled it with opinion. Harvick's point wasn't that Smith should love NASCAR or even watch it. It was simpler: if you don't know what you're talking about, maybe don't talk about it. The fitness data was just the proof.
Notable Quotes
If you don't know anything about racing, just keep your opinion to yourself because you shouldn't even have an opinion if you don't know anything about a sport.— Kevin Harvick, responding to Stephen A. Smith's dismissal of NASCAR drivers as athletes
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Harvick feel the need to respond at all? Smith makes uninformed takes about sports all the time.
Because this one hit different. It wasn't criticism of strategy or performance—it was a claim that what he does isn't even a sport. That's existential.
But does the calorie burn really settle it? You could burn 3,200 calories doing a lot of things that aren't athletic.
True, but it's not just the calories. It's what they represent—sustained intensity, heat stress, constant decision-making under pressure. The fact that Polar compared it to marathon runners was the real tell.
Did Smith ever respond to Harvick?
Not that I'm aware of. That's part of what makes Harvick's approach effective. He didn't attack Smith personally. He just presented the evidence and moved on.
Do you think this changes anyone's mind about whether NASCAR drivers are athletes?
For people who were genuinely uncertain, maybe. For people like Smith who've already decided, probably not. But that wasn't really the audience. Harvick was speaking to the people who know racing and were tired of being dismissed.