SMELLS LIKE TEAM SPIRIT
THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER (1962) Artist: S. John Woods ©Sotheby’s
BLITZ 3
It’s writer Alan Sillitoe's fault that long-distance running is associated with loneliness. Thanks to his 1950s short story The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, we think of running as austere and noble, best practiced alone. Most of us remember the film adaptation. The parable of the delinquent adolescent trying to escape his class is more about freedom of thought than athletic achievements. The speedy hero, finely portrayed by Tom Courtenay, enters representing the juvenile detention center and competes against young men from distinguished schools. Faster than the lot, he stops before crossing the finish line and loses the race.
But unlike in this production, long-distance running is rife with team spirit. Ambition, empathy, and the success of others are intrinsic parts of the experience.
It only takes a little to fall into a solo round's meditative rhythm. Obliging to this irrational physical challenge in the long term, over and over again, all by yourself means constant negotiation with your ego.
When I started, the company of my thoughts and New York’s urbanity were enough material to animate my personal road movie. I let the city rush past me, my eyes fixed on the distant future or everyday problems vanishing with each step on the asphalt. No one knew about my running, and the secret made it exciting. As much as I appreciated my clandestine escapades, I realized I couldn’t hide my lover anymore. It was time to commit and make my relationship public or dump him.
I moved to Brooklyn in the Spring, and lacking my East River Promenade, I flaked on my running. I needed to be closer to a decent park or any waterfront, so my reasoning went. On a sticky Sunday in August, I was done blaming it on my circumstances and stepped out into the paralyzing heat. Ecstatic gospels wailed from the small churches that littered the neighborhood. About to hop on a Citibike and pedal to Prospect Park, I noticed a group of runners in front of the hipster café Sincerely Tommy, big smiles on their faces. I rushed to the other side of the street.
One of them, wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the Adidas Runners NYC logo, shouted from a well-groomed beard. “Where are you going without us?”
I stopped and said I was biking to Prospect Park for a run. I have no idea what made me tell the truth.
“Why don’t you run with us?” he asked.
I was not a real runner.
“You look pretty real to me,” he said.
I was slow and old.
“There’s no such thing as slow and old,” an ice-blonde said. I’d seen her before. “Sunday Runs are sexy runs.”
Before I knew it, I was in the middle of sexy running with 12 people.
“Sexy,” Jessie Zapo and Coach Shiara Robinson explained, “refers to the chilled pace and distance.”
Someone carried a portable speaker from which Awkwafina's reconnaissance ballad “My Vag” bubbled. I realized I was grinning like everyone else. This was a baptism into a new religion that demanded more than praising some Lord and watching pastors failing at celibacy. I didn't even have to sing.
From now on, I indulged in New York’s mean streets in the company of sweaty others more often. Sometimes slowly, sometimes faster, always further. Every run in the community was a promise and a sign of moral support, whether for speed training or simply not being alone in the dark. We didn’t talk much, I barely knew their names or professions, but soon I saw this community more often than anyone else and began looking forward to their company.
Adidas Runners organizes running events via their Runtastic app all over the world, from Taipei to Bucharest, Milan to Rio de Janeiro, at over 50 locations across the globe. I can’t tell you if the app is any better than the countless other apps such as Strava, Nike Run Club, or Runkeeper. I was convinced of the people who shape Adidas New York’s community and their commitment to diversity. A neighborhood group or an Instagram community does the job if those structured clubs seem intimidating. In groups, we hold each other accountable, train better, stick to our goals, stay motivated, and offer logistical support at races. Running is hardly a sport of lonely wolves.
My introductory sexy miles with AR NYC have turned into hundreds of miles. When my knees turned to jelly during my first Half Marathon in Central Park as I inched up the infamous Cat Hill for a second time, AR’s famous cheer squad made some noise. Joe Velez, a crew runner, recognized me and approached, waving the squad’s colossal flag. He ran a mile by my side and gave me a much-needed pep talk. Hallelujah. The sacred team spirit carried me through the home stretch.
October 2021
