‘All Paces Are Welcome’ and 3 Other Lies that Made Me Quit Run Clubs

They’ve been hailed as a way to combat the loneliness of thelong-distancerunner, and even the newdating apps, but for me there’s something about run clubs that’s just never quite clicked. I’ve tried multiple ones over the years—from big corporate-sponsored inner-city crews in London and Manchester, to smaller community-based groups—and have struggled to find one that’s the right fit.But what about the much-touted social aspect? Aren’t running clubs a vital sliver of human interaction in our increasingly divided and hyper-online world?—you may ask. While I definitely found myself in the company of others, the quality of the socializing left a lot to be desired.Some clubs I joined would easily include 100 runners on any given evening, leading to a remarkably unwieldy and impersonal experience, making me feel like a peripheral spare part, running with so many people that I could have as well run alone.To me, run clubs seem to have become victims of their own overnight viral success, and these are their biggest downfalls.The “You’ll Meet New People” LieAt a recent club run in London, I didn’t exchange anything more than brief eye contact with anyone in my group and went home feeling like I just happened to be surrounded by other runners on my solo run.Rarely have I seen anything as simple as a quick introduction of new members or a breakdown of what to expect. I’d be lucky to get a casual nod of the head or an awkward wave before we’re already off and hitting the road. Organizers could do more to create a sense of camaraderie beyond the fact that everyone happens to be running in the same direction.The “You’ll Make Friends” LieOne of my former clubs had a dedicated core group of members who were constantly cracking in-jokes that went completely over my head, talking about upcoming events only they were privy to, and generally making me feel like a bit of an intruder to their exclusive running gang. At one of the club meets, I spent almost half an hour waiting during a long prerun ramble about the various achievements of the club’s core members I didn’t know. It’s all well and good to shout out the successes of fellow runners, but there must be a way to do it that also feels more inclusive tonewcomers(starting by acknowledging the newcomers to start with).Breaking into existing cliques is hard, but so is connecting with other new people. On more than one occasion I’ve come away from a running session with several newStravafollowers, only to never see those same faces again, which made me wonder what the online connection was actually for.The “Good Conversation” LieIt’s inevitable that you’ll end up next to whoever you happen to be running at the samepaceas—and similar fitness levels alone don’t necessarily equal new BFF material. But the bigger problem is that, perhaps unsurprisingly, people only ever seem to want to talk about running itself. Sure, we’re participating in a run club, and this is the one thing we already know we have in common, but there are only so many times I can answer “have you got any races coming up?” before completely losing the will to live.The “All Paces Are Welcome” LieI’ve run with clubs where everyone set off in one unwieldy pack. Inevitably, there’s a huge pace disparity in such a large group, meaning those at the front constantly have to stop to let the rest of the group catch up. Then, just as the people bringing up the rear rejoin them, they shoot off again, giving the runners most in need of abreakno time to catch their breath. This setup leaves everyone feeling frustrated, often proving the worst of all worlds. Though many clubs brand themselves as “inclusive,” the premise often seems to be forgotten the moment runners start hitting the tarmac.And even when clubs split into smaller groups, this issue still rears its head. My brother and I bore the brunt on a recent long Sunday club run: Despite joining a group that purported to be running at a comfortable speed for us, in reality, they set off far quicker, and we were left well behind for the entire 10-mile route. Struggling to keep up, huffing and puffing for two hours solid is not my idea of a good day’s running. It left us wondering what the point of a “social” run is, if you’re spending the whole time watching the backs of fellow runners. My brother and I were training for our first-ever marathon and ended up doing many 20-30K runs just the two of us, which was infinitely preferable to feeling the pressure to catch up with speedier people from the local neighborhood.And maybe that’s at the heart of the matter—to me, running is so enjoyable as an individual experience that a run club has to offer something more than awkward chat and uncomfortable pacing to compete with the feeling of just me and the open road. I would dearly love to find a club that clicks for me, keeps me motivated, pushes me further, and where I’d meet some like-minded folks. Until that day, I’m more inclined to stick to running at my own pace.Hywel Sedgwick is a freelance journalist and keen road and trail runner, based near Manchester in the UK.