Admit it, you hate me
It's OK, I used to hate me too before I became me
What is it about runners that is so completely insufferable? Before I was one, I simply could not tolerate them. Is there a smugger form of exercise? Actually, I’ve seen some people doing circuits of Dulwich Park on these sort of snow-less ski things who look pretty unbearable, but they are limited in their numbers. Runners are everywhere and they - we - are awful.
What is it about running that is so uniquely annoying? Is it because it’s something that theoretically almost anyone could just go and do, and yet most people don’t bother? And that makes them feel bad, which they project onto us, the athletes? Is it because it’s happening here, there and everywhere, on streets and footpaths up and down the country, rather than hidden away in leisure centres with all the other smug fitness stuff? Like we’re going “Hahaha look at you lazy fuckers just walking everywhere - I’m going twice as fast!” (on a good day).
Is it because we look so wholesome while we’re running, all rosy-cheeked and make-up free and swishy-haired, in bright clothing that manages to be simultaneously skintight and completely devoid of sex appeal? And really ugly shoes, no matter how hard the designers try to make them cute? We choose to look this bad, and then we’re all giddy and happy afterwards, like we’re on drugs and so then you’ve got FOMO even though you’re scared that if you try the drugs you will get addicted or maybe just drop dead?
I definitely used to feel like this. When I was first dating my now-husband, he regularly ran half-marathons around Europe with some friends so disgustingly sporty that I’m pretty sure they were born with moisture-wicking microfibre instead of skin (you know who you are and you know I love you). I actually went along a few times, to Vienna and Valencia and Verona (and Barcelona, but that ruins my alliterative flow) and stayed in bed or skulked around with kit bags until they were done with their bullshit, with absolutely zero desire to ever take part. I mean, it looked lame. Organised fun. Stupid banners. Pathetic cutesy medals. What are they, eight?
“You should try it!” they would all say. “You can eat what you want and it’s great for your mental health!”
“I hate running and I hate runners and my boobs are too big and I don’t like being hot and you can’t make me and I eat what I want anyway and WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING ABOUT MY MENTAL HEALTH and also something to do with knees?” I would protest.
The joke’s on them now, because in a few weeks, my husband and one of the aforementioned friends with sweat-wicking properties will be looking after my children and my stuff while I do Cambridge Half Marathon as part of my marathon training plan.
These days, some of my friends run, but most of them don’t, and they’re not even slightly interested in the elevation of my favourite new 10K route or the fluctuations of my resting heart rate or how my new ASICS feel considerably bouncier than the old ones despite being the same model, so therefore I’ve made new running friends who help me fulfil my deepest desires to be really, really boring.
I’ve written here before about how community helps to motivate me, but this is more about how individuals make things more fun too. In the last few weeks, I’ve done a fair bit of running in or near other runners, and I’ve realised, like the needy extrovert/sociable ambivert that I am, I BLOODY LOVE IT.
I have a new running pal - “Sinead from parkrun” to use her full name - who I’m doing some of my long marathon training runs with, and it is a revelation. You’re supposed to do most of your long runs at a “chatty” pace, and when I was more shit at running, this really frightened me - my chatty pace was walking - so I would avoid running with other people at all costs. Now I can hold a conversation while running at a pace that was quite fast for me previously, and it turns out it makes the time go really quickly (plus on our run this week we spotted Richard Ayoade, which definitely wouldn’t have happened if I’d stayed at home. Well, unless the telly was on). Running with a shiny new person is also a great opportunity to try different routes - either because you didn’t know they existed, or because you would be nervous trying them on your own (not all men blah).
Through Instagram, I also recently reconnected with an old school-friend, Zoe, and did a parkrun with her over Christmas (I say “with”, but she is extremely leggy and impressive so she mostly waited at the end and stroked people’s dogs while I dragged myself round the blowy fens). She sends me discount codes for overpriced leggings and knows stuff about injuries; it’s a delightful little rekindling.
Plus this weekend I did the RunThrough Crystal Palace 10K and travelled there with a nice school mum, Ellie, who I know through our “school running chat” (NOW you’ve got FOMO…). She got herself a massive PB and even though she beat me, I felt genuinely delighted for her, which is a little nugget of personal growth that’s happened to me since getting into running. I think running is one of the few things in my life where I find it easy to be happy for other people’s achievements - probably because almost everyone is better than me, so there’s no point competing with anyone but myself. When I see people I like getting PBs, my cold dead heart beams with pride. When they have more Substack subscribers than me, my cold dead heart wants to kill them.
And a couple of weeks ago I went to a training day hosted by the charity, I’m running the marathon for, Asthma + Lung UK, and it was brilliant. A whole room full of totally marathon-obsessed nerds, getting hyped up by an incredible coach, Nick Anderson from RunningWithUs, and doing a group intervals sesh up Primrose Hill. The only thing I find unsettling about these scenarios is that it’s hard to figure people out when they’re in activewear when you first meet them - you can’t even tell what sort of music they like, so the Freshers Week version of me would really struggle.
My most-beloved and oldest friend (duration, not age - although she does have a few months on me), Nicky, has been running for many years, but me totally stealing her hobby and acting like I invented it has been one the biggest and best shock twists of our friendship so far. Most of our socialising used to revolve around wine, karaoke and important discussions about “nice boys with nice beards” but now we talk a lot about socks, cadence and energy gels and we often get up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays to meet at mutually convenient parkrun locations. No honestly, it’s great.
I still love my non-running friends, though, because they are fun and interesting and lovely. But as marathon training gradually takes over my life, I’m worried I might soon alienate them and run out of things to talk about.
“Have you read…?”, “No but it is in the big pile of books by my bed that I don’t pick up because when I lie in bed at night I’m programming MARATHON TRAINING workouts into my Garmin.”
“Did you watch…?”, “No, I keep dozing off in front of the TV in the evening because I am FATIGUED from all my MARATHON TRAINING. Yes, being fatigued is the same as being tired but it sounds more athletic.”
“Shall we form a team for the school quiz?”, “Hmm maybe, but it’s a few weeks before my MARATHON so I probably won’t be drinking. I’ll still be fun though? Do you think there will be any questions about local parks? Like which ones have water fountains and stuff?”
You get the idea. INSUFFERABLE.
I’m not one for inspirational quotes - like, really really not, get them out of my face and take your Ibizan sunset backdrops with you - but this post from a jazzy running clothes brand, Happystride, pretty much sums up my feelings on the matter AND I DON’T CARE IF YOU THINK I AM LAME.
Aside from all these wholesome running friends making life more interesting, a marathon being less than three months away makes January go REALLY fast (looming tax deadlines also help, but release fewer endorphins).
SOME OTHER STUFF YOU MIGHT LIKE
This is a nice piece in The Guardian (not by me) about running for good causes. I am determined to give GoodGym a go before the year is out.
Speaking of which! You can sponsor me for London Marathon and help raise a few grand for Asthma + Lung UK (you get to pick a song for my running playlist too - so far it features both Anthrax and Natasha Bedingfield. Not a collab).
A couple of weeks ago I wrote a piece for The Telegraph about the secret perks of thunder thighs. I am trying not to think about the newsroom discussion that led to them commissioning me to write this and instead focus on being paid for having chunky limbs, something 12 year old “milk bottle legs” me would never have imagined.
Also for The Telegraph, I wrote a long thing about training for a marathon if you’ve never run a marathon before. Obviously I haven’t got a clue, so I interviewed loads of excellent experts.
Speaking of experts, I somehow got to speak to DAME FLIPPING JESSICA ENNIS-HILL for Vitality magazine, for a feature all about the rise of inclusive running clubs - plus they gave me a fun column about being mediocre at running. Both can be found here in their digital magazine. I also spoke to one of my favourite running experts, Mel Bound from This Mum Runs, for the piece, and did a fair bit of unnecessary parkrun promotion as usual.
And finally… you might hate me but how can you not adore Richard E Grant and his joyful new running habit?
I just love how you write. Good on you. X