ON YOUR MARKS
Grace Cook on the restorative power of running clubs
Words
GRACE COOK
Murakami, the renowned Japanese author, once wrote that he ran “to find the void.” Me? I run to fill my cup.
It’s true that running has always been considered a solitary sport. All over the world, joggers like Murakami lace up, head out and pound the pavements. Often, it’s done in pursuit of a personal rhythm that brings escapism from the noise and notifications in this switched-on, stressed-out world. The thing about running is that, even if you’re plugged into a playlist or a podcast, for those 20, 40, or 60 minutes, you’re mentally unreachable. No matter the kilometres, every run is a reprieve from the screen, with eyes up and open to the world around you.
My journey into running aligned with the norm. I took it up late, starting very slowly in the summer of 2021. I noodled around the streets of south London, chased natural endorphins, enjoyed the monotony of the analogue minutes and found real joy in the post-jog high. But then, I joined a casual running club in Hackney – and discovered a real-life rush that endured long after my heart rate had climbed back down. Now, those social runs are, without question, the highlight of my week.
In this online era, there really is no replacement for an IRL community. And while initially the idea of jogging 10km with a bunch of strangers felt daunting – what if no-one talks to me! – those worries subsided as soon as I turned up at 9am that first Saturday morning. Everyone was embroiled in chit chat. That’s what they’d gotten out of bed for. The intention here was to run, yes. But to do so while making new friends, or catching up with existing ones, from the pre-run chatter to the post-run coffee and pastries.
Something else I quickly learned: running with someone is a way to make the miles roll by with ease. The chatter is a distraction from the speed or distance. And sharing miles can be an intimate thing: there’s a mutual goal, and you’re in it together. I found that fellow runners are also each other’s cheerleaders. If you’re struggling, you’ll get encouragement and support. Need the bathroom? Someone will run to find one with you. There’s a natural camaraderie that’s unlike anything I’ve experienced in fitness. Exercise classes might now be the norm, but how many people really stick around to chat after a barre or pilates class?
From that first session, I became hooked on the social run. It was a palate cleanser from my midweek schleps, which I mostly still do solo. Club runs are a chance to properly connect, rather than disconnect – each offers the feeling of really being present, where phones are confined to pockets or belt bags. It’s the chance to properly engage with groups of people who are focused only on each other, without distraction. That vibe is something of a rarity today.
As a freelancer, I spent all my days working and writing alone. So I recently started joining a 7am social run on a Friday, too. They’re my treat for a week well worked, and a way of easing into, and extending, the weekend mood. I always run back to the train station on a high, ready to sit at my laptop and start my day. It honestly makes me feel alive.
Social running has opened my eyes to the world around me, and the opportunities within it. I’ve made friends with incredible women, and men, who inspire and encourage me every single day. With their support, and enthusiasm, I’ve gone well beyond my comfort zone, running marathons and half marathons – it’s safe to say I’m addicted to those now, too. But I would never have known I could do it had it not been for joining the club. It’s given me a new perspective on life, that only I can limit myself. It’s shown me I can do more than I ever thought.
For me, it’s been an amazing way to make deep and meaningful connections. In this day and age, that isn’t always the easiest thing to do, especially as an adult. Connection might constantly be at our fingertips, but nothing beats turning up at a coffee shop and seeing dozens of faces, beaming with smiles, ready to pound the pavements with you. That sort of endorphin is one that goes the distance.
Grace Cook is a London-based journalist and running enthusiast. Her writing appears in the FT Weekend, HTSI Magazine, The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and more.