Unbelievably Fast Ninja FLIES to the Next Round | American Ninja Warrior
The lights dimmed over the qualifying course in San Antonio, the crowd a low murmur of anticipation. We’ve seen veterans. We’ve seen rookies. We’ve seen heartbreak, and we’ve seen triumph. But every so often, American Ninja Warrior produces a run that redefines what we believe is humanly possible.
Tonight, that run belonged to a 21-year-old rookie from parts unknown: Kaden “Jet” Jensen.
He stepped up to the starting platform with no fanfare. No flashy backstory, no tear-jerking video package. He was just a kid in a simple grey t-shirt. The hosts, Matt Iseman and Akbar Gbajabiamila, barely had time to introduce him before the buzzer sounded.
What happened next wasn’t a “run.” It was an eruption.
Kaden didn’t just take on the Quad Steps; he bypassed them. His feet seemed to barely graze the first two platforms before he was airborne, clearing the final two in a single leap.
“Whoa!” Matt Iseman yelled, his voice cracking. “Did you see that?!”
Akbar was speechless.
Kaden hit the landing pad and was already at the second obstacle, the “Fly Hook.” This was where most ninjas took their time, calculated their swing, and prepared for the 10-foot lache. Kaden grabbed the hook, took one backswing, and launched himself.
He didn’t just swing. He flew.
For a split second, his body was completely horizontal, defying gravity as he sailed across the water. He caught the landing net with such force that he was able to use the rebound to propel himself onto the platform. He wasn’t just moving fast; he was creating momentum.
“He’s a rocket!” Akbar finally screamed. “This kid is a rocket!”
He was a blur on the “Spinning Bridge,” his feet moving in a rapid, tapping motion so fast that the balance obstacle had no time to react to his weight. He didn’t wobble. He didn’t hesitate. He was just… gone.
By the time he reached the “Flying Squirrel”—a massive set of laches designed to drain grip and kill speed—Kaden looked like he was just warming up. He wasn’t even breathing hard. He moved through the upper-body-intensive obstacle with the rhythmic, effortless efficiency of a machine. Grab, release, fly. Grab, release, fly.
The crowd was on its feet, a deafening roar echoing through the stadium. This wasn’t just a good run; this was an insult to the course.
He landed on the final platform and didn’t pause. He sprinted toward the 14-and-a-half-foot Warped Wall, his pace accelerating. He hit the apex of his run, planted one foot, and soared, easily grabbing the top.
In one fluid motion, he pulled himself over, stood up, and slammed the buzzer.
Silence. Then, chaos.
The clock was frozen. Kaden had finished the entire course in 58.3 seconds.
Matt and Akbar were out of their chairs. “Unbelievable!” Matt shouted. “That’s not just the fastest time of the night; that’s the fastest time of the season! That might be the fastest time I have ever seen!”
Kaden “Jet” Jensen just smiled, finally taking a deep breath as he waved to the crowd. He hadn’t just qualified for the next round. He had put every veteran, every champion, and every hopeful on notice. There’s “fast,” there’s “ANW fast,” and then there’s whatever that was. He didn’t just run the course. He flew.
