Judging those who run for fashion, socializing, or at a slow pace is a self-defeating move for running culture as a whole.
- There’s a widespread tendency to judge runners who don’t follow preset standards for speed or gear.
- The running world is split into tribes, from time-obsessed competitors to social crews focused on connection.
- The phenomenon of gatekeeping is a pointless defense mechanism: no one owns the exclusive rights to running.
- The rise of runners — even the “trendy” ones — brings structural benefits to cities and greater safety for everyone.
- Diversity in running approaches is a strength: every step counts, no matter the reason behind it.
- Letting go of judgment frees up mental energy and lets us simply enjoy the movement.
“They’re Not Real Runners — They’re Just There for the Post-Run Drinks.” You’ve Thought It Too, Haven’t You?
It happens all the time in parks or along bike paths on a Sunday morning. You pass a big, colorful, maybe slightly loud group. Their shoes are spotless and cost twice as much as yours, their outfits are coordinated, and — the ultimate offense — they’re chatting. They’re not out of breath. They’re smiling. They might even be taking a selfie.
In that moment, in the mind of the purist runner — the one who wears black toenails like badges of honor and has a heart rate strap practically tattooed to their chest — a tribal reflex kicks in. A sharp, instant thought: These people aren’t like us.
It’s a kind of snobbery that hits anyone who’s spent years sweating through a discipline. Seeing your “religion” of effort interpreted as a social pastime or — worse — a fashion parade can be grating. But that irritation says more about us and our own insecurities than it does about them. Because the real question isn’t whether they’re “real” runners. The real question is: why do we care so much about deciding who gets to call themselves one?
Running Tribes: From Competitors to Social Runners
The running landscape has changed dramatically. A few years ago, it was binary: either you were an athlete, or you jogged to burn off a holiday meal. Today, it’s fragmented and nuanced.
There’s the performative runner, for whom an unrecorded run might as well not exist. They live for stats, VO2 max, and Strava segments. For them, running is a math equation where the result must always improve.
Then there’s the meditative runner, the one who runs at sunrise to “clear their head.” They don’t care about pace — they care about harmony with the universe.
And finally, there’s the new wave — the one that often attracts the harshest criticism: the social runners.
These runners treat running as a social catalyst. They meet up in running crews, run at conversational (“sexy”) pace, and often finish with a beer or coffee. For them, aesthetics matter as much as athletics. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine. They’re not desecrating a temple — they’re just decorating it differently.
The Gatekeeping Problem: Why We Feel the Need to Hand Out Authenticity Badges
Sociologists call it gatekeeping. Picture it as an imaginary bouncer deciding who’s allowed into the club. In sports — and running in particular — gatekeeping shows up whenever we set unwritten rules to define who’s a “serious” athlete.
- “If you’re not running under a 5:00/km pace, you’re basically walking.”
- “If you stop to take photos, you’re not training.”
- “If you run just because it’s trending on TikTok, you’ll quit in a month.”
This attitude stems from a fear that our passion is being watered down. We worry that the rise in popularity will dilute the “purity” of effort. But the truth is, running is — by definition — the most democratic sport in the world. All you need is a pair of shoes and an open door. Playing gatekeeper in a sport that’s hardwired into our species is a ridiculous paradox. No one holds the patent on bipedal movement.
The Truth Is, the More of Us There Are, the Better (For Health, Cities, and Safety)
If you can set aside your purist pride for a second, you’ll see that the “slow runners” or “trendy runners” showing up en masse is the best thing that could happen. It’s a numbers game.
The more people run, the more local governments are forced to acknowledge that cities aren’t just for cars. A crowd of runners — fast, slow, well-dressed or not — becomes a critical mass demanding wider sidewalks, better-kept parks, improved lighting, and safer crosswalks.
Safety itself increases with numbers. A park filled with runners — especially those running in groups — is a safer place for everyone, especially those out solo in the darker hours.
And on top of that, the sports industry invests where the people are. If we now have shoes packed with space-age tech that protect our joints, it’s partly thanks to people who buy the latest model just because they like the color. Their purchases help fund the R&D that lets you shave minutes off your marathon time. It’s an ecosystem — we need each other.
Run Your Way, Let Others Run Theirs. The Road Belongs to Everyone
In the end, the road is the great equalizer. Asphalt is just as hard for someone running 3:00/km as for someone running 7:00/km. The wind hits all of us the same. The cardiovascular gains, the endorphins, the feeling of freedom — they’re shared equally.
We should stop glancing at each other’s wrists to check pace and start looking at each other’s faces to nod hello. Whether someone’s training for the Olympics or just trying to fit into old jeans, whether they’re running to escape demons or to meet new friends — they’re doing the same thing you are: putting one foot in front of the other.
Running isn’t a private club with a dress code. It’s a street party. And the more people show up, the better it gets. So next time you see that slow, loud crew? Don’t roll your eyes. Join them — or pass them with a smile. Either way, you’re headed in the same direction.