Snob Diaries is a personal recap of seasonal events around the world, told through the lens of our staff and close friends. Highsnobiety’s Head of Creative Courtney Kenefick takes us to Germany for the adidas Home of Innovation summit, before taking on the 2026 Berlin Marathon.
This past Sunday, I ran 26.2 miles through Berlin and crossed the line in a cool 16,684th place. Well ahead of me (well, well ahead), the fastest men and women in the world, including winners Guye Adola and Tigst Assefa, stepped onto their podiums after running what most of us would consider a sprint for the entire distance. All six podium finishers wore the three stripes. In other words, adidas swept the 2026 Berlin Marathon.
My own win was of a different sort. In the days before the race, I got a look inside adidas headquarters for Home of Innovation, the brand's annual summit where it reveals what's ahead: the technology, the design, and the teams behind the gear that lets these athletes run their very fastest.
I joined a group of media and creators in Herzogenaurach, the small Bavarian town where adidas was founded, for two days of programming. Under blue skies, we toured the sprawling campus by bike (branded, obviously) and learned the company's history. We rode past the Laces building, the research and development hub named for the walkways that crisscross its atrium like shoelaces, and Home Ground, the German national team's base camp, where players live, train, and recover in timber-clad bungalows with a cozy, Soho House-esque feel. Night one ended with a welcome dinner, where those of us running Berlin officially kicked off carb-loading alongside friends of the brand from around the world and athletes from a range of sports.
The next day, after skipping a group run in favor of sleep, we got a peek behind the curtain, starting with keynotes from CEO Bjørn Gulden and Chief Creative Officer Alasdhair Willis. What stuck with me most was a relatively new directive to pull creative, design, and innovation out of their silos and make them work together. "That's the unlock," says Nic Galway, Senior Vice President of Global Design. "Now, I'm in the Lab every day, I'm with athletes every day, and we work really deeply in partnership. So we understand what the athlete needs from a science perspective." You can see and feel the result in the final product.
Nowhere was that clearer than the Innovation Lab, which felt less like a research facility and more like performance art. We were ushered down a chrome hallway into a darkened room. When the lights came up, there it was: sport as spectacle, with adidas' designers and engineers as its meticulous artists. Functionally, this is where athletes meet the innovation team, who get to know each individual's needs, personality, and goals, then build apparel and footwear to give them that coveted edge. "Sometimes elite athletes come in and say, 'I plan next year to break this particular record. Can you work with me on this particular problem that I have?'" says Kathryn Metcalfe, Director of Apparel Innovation. "That relationship is really built around breaking records."
The proof it works? adidas currently claims the fastest shoe on the planet, the Adizero Adios Pro Evo 3. Sabastian Sawe—who was also in attendance in Herzo—wore it to run 1:59:30 at the London Marathon in April, breaking the world record and becoming the first person to complete a sanctioned marathon under two hours. That shoe was the blueprint for the Adizero Adios Pro 5, the brand's latest consumer race shoe. It took center stage at both Home of Innovation and the Berlin Marathon, which adidas sponsors. It's also the shoe I wore on Sunday. No pressure.
Back in the Innovation Lab, the brand's three principles for the year came to life: the future of fast, the future of cool, and the future of strength. Track athlete Florian Zittel ran on a giant treadmill in a metabolic mask while his metrics were recorded. On an uplit running track, Zharnel Hughes flashed past us mere mortals. London Jenkins, adidas' first female flag football athlete, ran drills with Brazilian footballer Rodrygo Goes. Hungarian professional CrossFit athlete Laura Horvath and elite Hyrox athlete Cole Learn pushed weighted sleds and squatted barbells. And behind glass, ultramarathoner Charlie Lawrence logged miles in a heat chamber while we watched, transfixed.
Next to each athlete was the gear built for them, and the team that pushes it to the limit before it ever reaches the rest of us. A concept trail shoe has a switch that quite literally changes gears, shifting the sole from supportive to flexible depending on the terrain. A cooling suit puffs up to Michelin Man proportions to bring an ultrarunner's body temperature down before racing in extreme heat. "Cool is really a big focus," says Metcalfe. "Even when you don't think those few degrees are going to make a difference, it still does." And gym apparel adds support exactly where athletes fatigue first.
The APEX (Athlete Product Excellence) studio felt just as futuristic. A 3D-printed recovery slide came out of a cooler like a cold drink, with ice built into its pockets, while a team member strolled by in a sci-fi-looking prototype sneaker 3D-printed from foam. We ended the day in concept recovery shoes of our own: bright coral slip-ons with seamless 360-degree construction, cushioning, and ventilation for airflow.
Armed with an insider's understanding of why my race gear works, straight from the people who make it, I switched into race mode. Our crew made the five-hour pilgrimage from Herzo to Berlin, broken up by a (you guessed it) carb-heavy dinner. By the time we arrived, the race-day excitement had set in, along with the nerves and my own inevitable pre-race spiral, a rite of passage for any race. After a Saturday shakeout run, we headed to the expo for our bibs and, just as important, the swag. I also got fitted in a new running outfit by stylist Karlmond Tang, then sat for a portrait by photographer Annika Yanura.
By Saturday night, it was time for one last bowl of pasta, another swig of electrolytes, and the daunting task of building my race-day fit grid to post on social. I paired my electric pink Adizero Adios Pro 5s with tonal socks and, in true New York fashion, an all-black kit topped with a visor. (I discovered visors this year and haven't looked back.)
Sunday morning, I followed the stream of runners to the start line at Tiergarten park. The energy hit immediately, with crowds of runners singing in unison on the metro. If I'm being honest, in each of my five marathons, the actual 26.2 has become a blur of people, signs, runners, and scenery, none of which I can recall with any specificity. But here's what's vivid: the excitement at the start, with a view of the Victory Column. Hitting the proverbial wall way earlier than I have in the past (the carbs failed me!), and with it, any hope of my goal time. Then grinding out the last 12 miles once I remembered I was tens of thousands of people behind the lead pack. So who cares? Just enjoy it. Spotting the famed Brandenburg Gate sooner than expected, to my great delight, because I'm a dumb American who still can't properly convert kilometers to miles. And of course, the sweet relief of crossing the finish line and getting my medal.
adidas may be building the future of fast, but Berlin reminded me there's something to be said for the future of fun. Somewhere between watching my goal time slip away and the Brandenburg Gate, I found it.
