Three cheers for the group run: We can make this sound interesting

Anyone who fashions themselves a runner, from the elite Olympian to the weekend jogger, must someday face one inevitable stumbling block in maintaining participation in the sport. No runner is immune, and how one perseveres in the face of such adversity will determine not only the longevity of one’s commitment to running but also what kind of runner one will become. This ever-present threat has nothing to do with shin splints or twisted ankles or IT band inflammation or even poor choices in race-day nutrition or footwear.

The worst thing a runner must overcome? Boredom.

Because let’s face it, our sport is REALLY boring. I know, I know, I can hear you complain that I’m playing right into the hands (not the feet) of those purveyors of misinformed stereotypes about running. You know, the passive-aggressive anti-runners, the ones who say, “Oh, you’re a runner? OK.” They’re the simpletons who used to yell “run, Forrest, run!” at you when you were out for a five-miler in a rain shower. They’re the ones who still think it’s funny to put oval-shaped bumper stickers on their cars that boast “0.0.” They can’t understand why we aren’t playing racketball, or something. They are the kind of people who refuse to acknowledge any sport that doesn’t require a sizable down payment or membership fee or subscription plan. Before they pay attention, there has to be at least the possibility of catastrophic injury or death. And don’t bother explaining to them that you risked life and limb when you sprinted through traffic on a busy street because you didn’t want to break stride or lose your Zone 3. They just don’t want to hear it.

I’m reluctant to give such contrarians any affirmation or ammunition, but hey, running really is kind of boring. You put on shoes. You go outside. You sweat. Maybe you choose to sweat a bit more. Then you go home and take a shower, or you don’t. You stretch, or you don’t. (Some runners even voluntarily make their sport even MORE boring and dreadful by running on a treadmill — never even leaving the house! — but that is a different rant.)

You may offer a feeble counterpoint like, well, how about those endorphins that kick in after mile 2 or 3? Such a rush!

OK, let’s not fool ourselves. There is nothing inherently interesting about an endorphin rush. If you disagree, try putting that endorphin rush into words so you can explain it to the guy sitting next to you at the bar watching Sunday Night Football. I bet he pushes you off the stool faster than you can say Steve Prefontaine.

And yet… I’ve always marveled at the contrast between how boring it seems like running sounds — when you think about what you might say about it if you had to say something about it — and how fun it is to actually talk about running, at least with fellow runners.

If there’s a surefire cure for the boredom of running, it’s the group run.

On a group run, there’s training talk and pace talk and gear talk. There’s injury talk and rehab talk and race talk and recovery talk. There’s talk about best runs and worst runs and those emergencies when your eyes are feverishly scanning the route for the nearest porto-potty. And there’s hot weather talk and cold weather talk and what a beautiful morning this is but after last night’s rain you do NOT want to run down that trail, and did I ever tell you about the time I was running through the park and passed by a man and woman who were in various stages of undress and in the middle of some sort of compromising position on a bench, but of course I wasn’t going to stop and inquire because I didn’t want to break stride or lose my Zone 3.

Maybe running isn’t as boring as it first appears. It certainly helps to have company.

Some of my favorite runs have been with friends, particularly Keith and Kyle, whom I worked with in Wausau, Wisconsin, many years ago when I was first starting to run long distances. Our regular runs around town were a great social counter-balance to my solitary runs on other days, and if it wasn’t for those group runs, I don’t think Keith and Kyle would have become the lifelong friends they are now.

We still enjoy running together whenever we get together, but after our jobs sent us in different directions, I spent years running almost exclusively alone. Then, about three years ago, Rundgang happened.

We call it a rundgang after the German word that means something like “walking around.” (The name also has an inside story but not a particularly exciting one.) The weekly Wednesday meet-ups were instigated by a comment or two exchanged on the app Strava between me and Steve Hicks, whom I knew through our kids’ elementary school. We met in person for a four-miler and, at a conversational pace (not Zone 3), talked through an informal plan to get a weekly group run going with a few other friends.

This was in the middle of the pandemic, so we weren’t the only runners looking for a social outlet. The high-mileage Landstriders is another local group, with a somewhat different vibe. Our vibe is just a group of guys, mostly dads, with an hour to kill before the rest of life hijacks our Wednesdays. Our pace is only as fast as the slowest runner, usually barely sub-9. We have just enough five-mile and six-mile routes to keep it interesting, though the banter is what it’s really about.

The founding Rundgang membership was six neighborhood guys: me, Steve, Jim, Jason, Brendan and Michael. And to show you just how informal our group was, the first Wednesday after forming the group we decided not to run because no one was able to show up. Then, on Sept. 30, 2020, we made it official with a run to the Menomonee River and back. It started at Center Street Park, and the park has been our meet-up location ever since, almost without exception.

Some Wednesdays we only had two people show up. Sometimes only one of us was available. But over the past three years, we’ve grown, with runners inviting other runners. We make plans on a ever-expanding text thread that also is a repository for bad jokes, memes and trash talk. Several members of the rival Landstriders now regularly steer their routes to Center Street Park on Wednesdays, and on one Wednesday morning in August we had a record 12 runners.

It’s still just a low-stakes workout with no expectations other than friendly conversation. But it’s also hard to deny that these group runs are something different than they were when it began, and that’s kind of cool.

A highlight of every week. And never boring.