I’ve heard a lot about this one run club in London. Months ago, in the depths of winter, I scoured Reddit and Strava to imagine myself there. I was searching for clues about what my life would look like once I moved, and if I would develop a funny little affectation. This move was largely about reexamining relationships and habits, and I wanted to travel light, leaving the bullshit behind.

A friend of a friend invited me on one of their runs within a few days of landing. Off to a great start! She filled me in on everything going on with the club. They had gone viral, as so many do, and had to shut down for a few months to reconfigure how they operated. I always LOL when a run club blows up online because it seems to happen both at random and is also inevitable these days. Everyone is plagued with exhaustion, probably strapped with debt, and looking for something new to do in the terrifying decade of (GASP) our thirties.

There’s got to be a solution for a bunch of people tired of slurring their words at 3 a.m. I know—a run club! Some take it a step further and go straight for a marathon. Seems achievable, with everyone and their mother on your TikTok feed doing it.

I was lucky enough to join on their first week back with a smaller, 20-person outing. I learned that the start location—a trendy café—was owned by the founders of the group. A very clever way to monetize their success (yes, I am taking notes). After a nice, easy run, you could get a latte in the cutest ceramic mug you’ve ever seen while chatting with your new running buddies.

But wait, there’s more!

The café also featured a well-curated running apparel and lifestyle shop. Performance singlets for over £100 and vintage cotton tees promoting long past 5Ks, such as the "Slow Runner Classic 2007" (I’m making that up, but you get the point). It had a decadent mix of irony for the East London hipster—if we still use that term—and "aesthetic" pieces (I think the correct word is “vibey,” but we don’t use that anymore either, do we?) for the fashion-forward consumer.

At first, I was like, “This is the greatest thing I have ever seen.” What an idea! What great execution! The voice in my head screamed: BUY BUY BUY. THIS IS WHO YOU ARE. THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE FRIENDS. I looked around at the busy café. Many had already pulled the trigger on graphic tees that looked like they were created by a designer who spent their twenties doing coke and their thirties running in circles. This must be how you buy your way into being cool. Or at least feeling cool enough so you can meet other cool people doing things you think are cool.

As a run coach, an 18-time marathoner, and a 2-time 50-mile ultra-marathoner, I should probably assert myself as one-of-the-guys, right? These social runners look like they’re about to Olympic Trials Qualify (OTQ) during our easy 8k. Maybe I could learn a thing or two about this sport I’ve dedicated my entire life to—from these random people I haven’t even spoken to yet.

…Right?

Nihilism aside, I did in fact have a fabulous time. In fact, I can’t wait to go back. I was just stunned by what I thought I was escaping by leaving New York*. It turns out I’m still the anxious, "never-enough," let’s-over-achieve-until-we-discover-happiness type, even from across the Atlantic. Likewise, the titans of the running industry are still going to print new shirts in new typography as long as people keep buying them.

It just still feels so foreign to me that you can buy your identity as a runner. Once upon a time, the messaging was all, “if you run, you’re a runner” (still true, by the way). Then it slipped more into the idolization of the elite and front-of-the-pack runners. Well, now you can skip to the front of the line with your Amex Platinum card. I have all three and still don’t feel like I fit in. That, my friends, is called a “me” problem.

I know it’s an incredible thing that so many people have gotten into running. It’s fascinating to be in a place and time where your average runners and elites alike are getting faster. I just didn’t expect my relationship with this sport to be called into question. I love running deeply; that’s not the issue. I probably always will. It’s how I relate to the rapidly evolving culture that needs work. Or rather, I want to understand the evolution or metamorphosis or whatever that I’m going through. Am I the same person if I’m not getting faster at the marathon? Why is my self-worth tied so deeply to my status as a marathon runner?

As I sipped my oat flat white, I started to relax into it. If I can’t beat them, I should probably join them. Maybe I don’t need to crush 80-mile weeks and chase an elusive PR to feel worthy. Maybe an overpriced t-shirt is enough. I stand by my philosophy that running is about how it changes you for the better. It certainly is never about the pace, or the mileage, or how cool you look doing it. I just moved to a new country and I’m okay with running being what it is. In this instance, it's an opportunity to meet new people.

My new friend leaned over to me.

“So what do you think?”

“Oh my God, this place is so cute.”

*Yes, Brian, you're definitely going to escape by going to one of the closest world capitals, both culturally and physically