Tuesday morning was blocked on my calendar this week for a track workout. As I strolled into Kezar Stadium at sunrise, I spotted my friend David. David was with two friends, Jenny and Sara. We exchanged greetings and mentioned our respective plans for the track. They quickly encouraged me to bail on my own planned workout in order to do Jenny’s, and I obliged. Suffering through a workout with friends is way better than suffering alone.
Little did I know, Jenny is an olympic-trials-qualifying marathon runner, and she’s aiming for another qualifying performance at the California International Marathon in a couple months. I’ve never been able to run as fast as her. Today, I was in for a treat.
David, Sara, and I did our best to keep up with Jenny. We held on for 800m at a time, taking turns leading laps, before peeling off to catch our breath while Jenny went an extra lap alone. It was tough, and humbling. The four of us were soaked in sweat because of the oddly humid, sunny conditions. It also felt really good to be back on the track with a group for the first time in months. I missed that feeling.
Jenny and David knew two other elite women who happened to be working out at Kezar at the same time. We were all introduced over the course of an hour. Before I knew it, I was cooling down through the park with some new running comrades, none of whom knew a majority of the others before we all decided to show up to the local track at sunrise.
The next morning, I shuffled out the door at sunrise for an easy run through the park. I passed through Kezar on my way, and I spotted my friend Will down on the track. I jogged in the wrong direction along the outer lanes as he finished his last lap of a workout. We left the track and jogged in the park together for a few miles. He was cooling down, and I was warming up, but it all looked the same.
As a member of the local running community, and of several running groups, I bump into other runners like this all the time. A few run-ins per week isn’t unusual. It’s often just a passing wave to each other after we recognize from afar, or as we pass in opposite directions. If I’m lucky, the encounters turn into a chance to catch up. It seems like every few weeks I’ll share a few miles with someone that I haven’t seen in weeks or months, and it’s always great to chat about all kinds of fleeting thoughts that runners have.
Sometimes, the encounters turn into chances for introductions to new friends. David and I first met at a group run. Will and I first met at a group run, and then recognized each other at a different group run. I met my best man Brian at a race, and we got to know each other better in a group run setting before developing a closer friendship. I’ll certainly remember the introductions made via Tuesday’s track camaraderie.
Many of my running friendships started with group runs. Every time that I moved in my adult life, I sought out a local running group in the new location. The first group I ever joined was the Tir Na nOg (RIP) running group in Raleigh. When I moved to Michigan, I immediately joined the Ann Arbor Track Club. I went on to run a lot with the Motown Ann Arbor Hash House Harriers, and I was an early member of the Atwater Run Club in Detroit. During my year in Cleveland, I ran with the North Coast Beer Runners. In Denver, it was the Highland Tap & Burger Run Club. San Francisco introduced me to the West Valley Track Club and the San Francisco Running Company store runs.
Historically, I gravitated to groups that met for a run, then enjoyed drinks and/or meals after. These groups were awesome for providing me social outlets when I moved to different states. I always moved alone, and always to take advantage of a new career opportunity. I was often lonely in the first few weeks, or even months, after moving. Building a new social circle from scratch, as a working adult, is difficult. My social life today is intertwined with a web of friends that I made while running all over the country. Nowadays, as a Bay Area resident, I enjoy the weekly Saturday morning brunches at the local grocery store after our group trail run. Some of us order breakfast sandwiches, while others buy fruit or a coffee, and we all gather on the patio outside of the store to eat and chat as the sun breaks through the fog and begins to warm the day.
The camaraderie that builds between runners in a group takes shape quickly. Friendships forge more easily, and personal connections evolve faster than they otherwise would in other kinds of adult social environments. I think it’s funny that, at least among distance-running men, it’s completely normal to meet someone mid-run for the first time, and see them duck off to pee in a bush before the run is over. That kind of comfort doesn’t naturally evolve in most social groups, ever.
I ran my long run of this week alone, and during the run I reflected a lot on camaraderie. The camaraderie of San Francisco Running Company group runs. The camaraderie of the track workout earlier this week. The camaraderie among marathon runners. The camaraderie among those runners who are also training for Boston. This camaraderie is important to me, and it is made possible by running.
I talk about this training block being a “last hurrah”, but in reality I will likely continue running far more than the average person for the rest of my life. I’ll always look forward to the occasional group run, or morning jog to catch up with a friend. I enjoy my role as a comrade.