Running Doesn’t Have to Be a Team Sport
“It’s very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually, you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants to quit.”
Disclaimer: this blog post is NOT meant to bash any sort of running community. I am a huge proponent of finding a group or a friend to run with! As a founder of several run clubs, and a coach who encourages my runners to engage with each other and find groups that work for them if they want to run with others, finding accountability and camaraderie in this sport is so important. However, this post is about my own running journey and how running solo helped me connect with myself as both a runner and a human being.
Running in groups has been a cyclical thing for me. When I first started running, it was mostly to stay in shape for fall sports, and I would run a few miles with friends for winter and spring track. As someone who didn’t particularly love running (at least, not yet), making running a social event made it more tolerable.
Fast forward to college, when I used running a way to: 1) decompress from the busy college life; and 2) let’s be real, offset some of the damage I was doing to my body with a very healthy diet of pizza and beer.
I found running alone, outside, exploring new routes, as opposed to running with friends or next to other students at the college gym felt very refreshing. As someone who defines herself as an “extroverted introvert,” the constant socialization of college life felt very overwhelming at times, and it was extremely important to me to budget some alone time—something that was easy to do with running as at that point, no one else in my friend group was logging miles outside!
The shift from Solitude to Community
After college and into the beginning of my professional life, I found myself relying heavily on those solo miles to either jump start my morning or end a busy work day. This was 2008-2012 in DC, and group fitness had not really began to creep into my radar, so running was an easy way for me to exercise at any time, as my schedule varied greatly. However, this was also when I did start to crave some other company. I began to sign up for a ton of races, because I wanted to know I was, in fact, doing something really hard with other humans to hold me accountable, but also feel like I was very much in my own little world when running.
Once I moved back to Boston and group fitness started to grow in the city scene, I realized that maybe my desire to run with others to push me and make it feel more like a social scene was something I was missing. Taking classes like Barry’s and running next to others on the treadmill was exhilarating. I loved “racing” my neighbors, and the fist bumps, friendly competition, and new-found social circle that came along with running. In addition to teaching classes, I was making plans with friends to take class together at a certain time, and oftentimes would grab coffee or go out for food or drinks after. I found myself feeling more comfortable sharing miles with others. Additionally, I was starting to train for PRs in marathons with one of my good running friends, so this era was something new and different for the formerly introverted running Kelly.
While in my extrovert-mile era, I was also starting to become curious about the various running groups that existed in Boston. Before this, I had never been interested in joining a run club as I found them to be very exclusive, and had the notion that I had to be a super fast, super running-obsessed athlete to be accepted into these groups. After attending a few run clubs that shall not be named here, I felt defeated. It was exactly as I imagined—the people who attended were super fast and not afraid to talk about it. They immediately asked what pace I was running and what my fastest marathon time was. I hated everyone there and hated every second of the group runs I did. I left wondering whether I was even a legit runner and deserved or belonged to be there. I was also feeling sorry for other runners, because if I left feeling that way and had a sub-3 hour marathon PR and ran quite literally, every day, how would these run clubs feel for someone a little less experienced, a little less fast, or a little more timid?
From Leading the Pack to Finding My Own Pace
Heading into 2019-2020, I knew something had to change in the running community in Boston, at least amongst the social circles I found myself in and from the feedback I was getting from other runners looking to join a run club that was more focused on community, not pace. I worked out a deal with a bar in South Boston that would allow me to use the space for runners to meet, leave their gear, run, and then hang out after for discounted drinks and food. I was so excited to be a part of this - at this time, there were very limited clubs like this in Boston.
However, right when we were about to launch, Covid hit... and run clubs and running with others in general was brought to a standstill.
The great group running drought of 2020 made solo miles mandatory—and was pivotal for the running community in general. After months of isolation and logging solo miles, runners were itching for groups to run with when the world got back to normal, and I was finally able to launch 1.5 Star Run Club. It was a huge success—we had numbers of 20-100 runners depending on the weekend, and runners were finding new friends and groups to run with; however, I was silently struggling. I felt like my entire existence was based around running with others and helping others achieve their running goals, and that my desire to run solo was being put on the back burner. I didn’t like the feeling of being the run club leader and the pressure to make sure everyone else was having fun. Don’t get me wrong—I loved the community aspect and loved seeing others find joy in running, but it was taking its toll on my own running and mental health. I felt like I had to base my own miles in planning routes for the run club, and didn’t have an “off day” to decompress and be alone with my miles. A few months after the club was started, I stepped down from my leadership role once it had established itself enough that it didn’t need me there.
Following the end of my Run Club leadership stint, I found myself struggling to balance my desire to build a running community but also to preserve my desire to log miles alone. With a lot of help from therapists and finding balance in my own work and life, I committed to working as a remote run coach and organizing running events on my own time, not weekly or even monthly. This gives me an opportunity to foster a community of runners and give them the tools they need to find a community, but takes the pressure off myself to feel like I am always needing to run with others.
Running for Yourself, Not for the Algorithm
So now that we have outlined my journey, the question remains: WHY does running not have to be a team sport, no matter what the internet is saying?
If you log onto social media or google run clubs in your area, or community running events, a million hits will come up. Smiling influencers will tell you that running is only acceptable in groups, and that if you’re not running a world major marathon, you’re not a real runner. This could not be further from the truth. Instead of always making running about who runs in the most popular circles, who wears the cutest matching new running gear, and who’s finding their true love at singles running events, I strongly encourage runners to dig deep and search for their running purpose, and what will hold them accountable as individuals to lace up and get out the door.
For the super social crowd, run clubs are great. Especially for people who don’t have friends or family who are into running and are looking for others to run with, or those who are seeking running as a social event, you can quite literally find a run club for everyone and everything. Want to run with your dog? There’s a run club for that. Want to run in the middle of the night with head lamps on? There’s a run club for that. Want to run with singles and potentially find your next romantic partner? There’s definitely a run club for that. Even if you’re just looking for a set time to meet up with a group to have consistency on your schedule or to feel safe if you’re more comfortable running with others, run clubs are the best option for you.
But if you are more of an introverted runner, like myself, don’t let the algorithm make you feel like an outsider if you prefer to log miles alone. As someone who is surrounded by hundreds of incredible humans a day, I need to have solo miles to decompress and have some down time.
As crazy as it may seem that a long run is relaxing for me, it’s truly my favorite form of meditation. While huge road races, big crowds, and thousands of other runners are so exciting and so much fun, as I get older and more tenured in my running career, I have truly embraced running that is more solitary. I love a good trail race with no music, just the sounds of my own breath and my feet crunching leaves. I recently deferred two major marathons just to enjoy miles on my own time around the city—no start times, no pressure, no one else out there by myself.
So is there a “right” way to run? The answer is no. The beauty of this sport is that it can constantly be in flux, a constant work in progress. Some days you may feel like running with others, and that may be the only way to get yourself out the door. Some days you may need to leave your watch, phone, and headphones at home and get some time for yourself. And that balance is totally ok. The key here is to find what brings you joy in running at any certain season of your life, and to embrace it. Running will always be here, but it can only work for you if you run your own way.
Xo