…But I’m not a Real Runners
“It doesn’t matter how fast or how far you’re going. If you’re putting on your shoes and going out for a run, you are a runner, you are in that club.”
We have all been here: showing up to try something new (or not new) and feeling like a fraud, doubting your skills and accomplishments despite successes and accolades. In fact, if you look up “imposter syndrome” in the dictionary, this is the very definition.
IMPOSTER SYNDROME
A psychological experience in which a person suffers from feelings of intellectual and/or professional fraudulence. It’s the subjective experience of perceived self-doubt in one's abilities and accomplishments compared with others, despite evidence to suggest the contrary.
Those who suffer from impostor syndrome often doubt their skills, talents, or accomplishments. They may have a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as frauds. Despite external evidence of their competence, those experiencing this phenomenon do not believe they deserve their success or luck. They may think that they are deceiving others because they feel as if they are not as intelligent as they outwardly portray themselves to be.
As you’re reading this, do you relate to these feelings when it comes to running or other athletic endeavors? I know this feeling very well personally, as I have felt like this many times throughout my running career, and often deal with clients who feel as though they are not “legit” runners.
Every time I post on my socials about accepting new clients, without fail, I get a ton of messages from experienced and inexperienced runners alike about their perceptions about themselves as runners.
Experienced runners who are looking to run big races or hit huge PRs hesitantly reach out, saying they would love to achieve these goals but doubt their ability to as a runner without a coach, and usually it takes some convincing and “hyping up” on my end to encourage them to try—mentioning that it will be a lot of hard work to get there, but absolutely not impossible.
Inexperienced runners reach out saying they would love to get into running—even just being able to run one mile at a time without stopping - but have no idea where to start and typically lead with “…I am not even close to being a runner, but…”
This notion that you have to run a certain amount of mileage, have to have a certain number of races under your belt, have a certain PR to be considered a “runner” is everything that is wrong with this sport. This elitist attitude is not only completely ridiculous, but also extremely toxic.
The beauty of running is that, like the marathon great Kara Goucher stated in the above quote, if you have shoes on your feet (or maybe you’re a barefoot runner) and getting outside for a run (reminder walking/jogging counts as running), YOU ARE A RUNNER. Remember—we are all beginners at something at one point.
Imposter syndrome is honestly something I have struggled with my entire life. When I was in high school and played sports, I had self-doubts about myself anytime I was put in a varsity race or played in a varsity game. I didn’t think I had the skills or the ability to perform at the levels my coaches wanted me to—even though if I didn’t, I would not be put in the meet or the game. This carried into my adult life as well in several aspects. When I first started running marathons, I did not suffer from this because in all honesty, marathon running wasn’t as mainstream as it is now. However, as I really started training hard for races and shooting for qualifying times, the intense self-doubt came back. I thought I had no place hiring a running coach and shooting for a sub-three hour marathon time. I was not born fast or particularly athletic; in fact, I mainly chalked up my love of running to my addictive personality and an intense desire to prove to myself that I was more than mediocre at something. I felt like I didn’t have the same athletic background, training, division one running credentials under my belt and despite running some fast times, always felt as though I didn’t quite belong. And when I tried to look into running groups or clubs to join? Forget about it. I felt immediately like I was somewhere I wasn’t cool enough or fast enough to be at. The early days of run clubs are absolutely not like they are now: they were all based on merit and race times. I remember showing up to multiple clubs and being asked immediately what I was training for, how fast I was planning to run my splits (not so they could group me according to pace, but just so they could judge my answer). I went once and never went back; one time I went to a run club meeting and literally turned left and ran home when the group turned right. I didn’t understand what they were talking about, and realized that I really was a newbie in the running world.
And you know what this inspired me to do? Work harder to not only prove to myself that yes, I am a runner and yes, I belong, but also to create a safe space for people to go to so they never feel this same level of exclusion. I earned my certifications as a run coach and started training friends and family for free. I didn’t want to take money from people until I had earned my stripes (another glaring symptom of imposter syndrome) and wanted their honest feedback and reviews of my coaching. I started a run club that was based more around the social aspect and meeting people before and after than it was about the pace or the mileage. Even then, whenever I would stand in front of the group and welcome them and go over the routes, I still felt as though I was doing something I wasn’t qualified to do. What if people don’t like the run club or the routes I planned? What if they don’t like me? What if they see that I don’t have many instagram followers like other fitness “influencers” and wonder why I am leading this?
In addition to running, the imposter syndrome in me has extended to my career as well; something I have been working to overcome for the last thirteen years. I was not a kinesiology major or a college athlete. In fact, I am a self-proclaimed nerd. I went to the University of Maryland and got a double major in journalism and English Language and Literature (with a focus in Shakespeare, no less). After graduation, I worked as a recruiter, in the communications department of a major labor union in Washington DC, worked as a legislative assistant and sat in on congressional hearings, and eventually worked in finance when moving to Boston. No fitness experience whatsoever. It wasn’t until I suffered a major injury related to Lyme disease that put me out of the running game for six months that I discovered indoor cycling as part of my rehab. Boutique fitness was very new in 2012, and I fell in love with the group fitness aspect of it immediately. I emulated the fitness instructors who seemed so cool and collected and fit on the podium. It became my dream to teach fitness, but one problem—I had a crippling fear of public speaking. So much so that when I took a failing grade in one of my college finals just so that I wouldn’t have to stand in front of class and present. However, when one of the instructors at the studio I frequented noticed how well I moved on the bike and my love for the classes asked if I would be interested in auditioning, I faced my greatest fears and tried out—and got the gig.
This was thirteen years ago, and I still get nervous every time I teach (which is fifteen to twenty classes a week). I doubt my programming sometimes and my ability to lead the class, and question whether people like me or my class. When teaching group fitness, at Barry’s in particular, the entire class is our intellectual property. We are responsible for creating the run, the workout, and the playlist— nothing is given to us from corporate. I remember when I first started teaching group fitness, mentorship wasn’t the same as it is now. My bosses were my friends, and they would take class and tell me when it straight up sucked, and told me I needed to fix my programming or I’d be taken off the schedule. There was zero coddling, and prime slots were earned, not given. In fact, when I got one of my very first prime time slots, clients actually started a petition to get me off the class and put the old instructor back on—something that would never fly in the fitness world of 2026 (lol). Thank god things have changed drastically now (and my bosses didn’t feed into that kind of mean girl BS!). But that stuck with me—and motivated me to be better. I am always trying to learn more about programming, what works and what doesn’t, what clients like and don’t like, and that fuels my motivation to be a better trainer and coach. This carries over into my run coaching, as well. I always encourage my runners to give me feedback on their plans and what they want to see from me as their coach and sherpa on their running journey, because everyone’s journey is so different.
All this to say, even after decades of running and teaching, I too have doubts about my abilities. But negative self talk can do two things: it can motivate you or it can hold you back. If you’re having doubts about starting a running journey or accomplishing big goals, take a step back and look at why you want this for yourself. Even the biggest goal can be broken down into baby steps. Want to run a mile without stopping? Find a realistic plan for that. Start by alternating run/walking for one minute at a time. Guess what? Those minutes add up, and soon you’ll be at a mile. Want to qualify for Boston? Start by training for a half marathon, and start building in strength training, tempo runs, and working with a coach or running with pace groups that can help you achieve this. And guess what? Even if you don’t hit the big goal, at the end, it’s all about being proud of yourself along the way. Because as I have said many times in my blog posts, make sure you’re running for you. And there’s no such thing as imposter syndrome if you’re out there to impress yourself first. Because you ARE that runner.
And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!
Xo