Performing Athleticism: Social Media and the Image of Running

One-two, one-two, one-two. I skirt to the side to avoid a pair of runners coming up on my left. My backpack jostles as I watch their matching Lululemon shorts and slick-back ponytails jog into the distance. Stepping back into the center of the sidewalk, I sigh as yet another set of footsteps comes up on my right. I repeat my routine of skirting to the side, glancing at the group of runners with uniform transparent water bottles and athletic running shoes. 

Since restarting my walk home from school over the last month, I can’t help but notice the sheer number of runners I encounter. Whether I’m coming home, going to school, or just taking a walk, onslaughts of runners along my route are commonplace. At worst, it’s infuriating. But upon a closer look, I begin to see that it’s an issue that goes deeper than the runners themselves: it’s the uniformity in attire, sneakers, even the flashes of fitness watches and phones open to Strava. Together, these details represent something larger than an arbitrary workout: they’re a window into New York City’s growing fitness culture, where the image of running and athleticism is becoming as important as, if not more important than, the activity itself. 

Social media has greatly contributed to a rise in the uniformity of running, mostly due to running influencers—“runfluencers”—who idealize the sport and showcase the clothing, gear, and routines that surround them. They create a uniform image of what a runner should look like. Someone who lacks these things will begin to feel ostracized from the larger community, which includes run clubs—whose participation has risen by over 59 percent in the last two years. Their popularity demonstrates that running can be about more than just performance, and reinforces the image that’s been popularized by mainstream media of what a runner should be. They continue to take attention away from the real premise of running, such as individual growth and progress. Though the run clubs seemingly promote the growth of the sport, they promote only the idealized image of it—not what’s really feasible.

Additionally, fitness tracking apps such as Strava—a popular app and social network designed for runners—gain an average of three million users every month, promoting more and more users to chase certain times, certain distances, certain paces. These platforms can celebrate personal achievements and motivate people to exercise, but they also contribute to a standardized image of what a runner should look like. Running becomes more than a physical activity, and encompasses a lifestyle complete with aesthetics, communities, and expectations.

But even though the increased visibility as a result of social media is dangerous for some, for others it’s advantageous. It has exposed more people to a form of exercise which they may not have otherwise considered. In turn, it’s helped individuals gain better cardiovascular health, increased muscle and bone strength, and stronger immune support, even from running casually or just for fun. The “reputation” that running has gained also makes the sport appear more welcoming and has created a community in which runners can learn from each other, share progress, and build friendships. In these ways, the growing visibility and social aspects of the sport can be a positive in that they make running appear accessible. However, these platforms unhealthily promote fitting in, matching the group, and narrowing your view of the sport into what social media promotes it as. The supposed “accessibility” that newfound developments provide is not nearly as advantageous as the mental and social negatives they promote.

So as I walk home each day, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the sameness of it all. The endless streams of runners, the matching outfits, the fitness walks, the phones open to Strava. While I find the crowds infuriating, the culture they represent is much more complicated than it initially appears. In an ideal world, the popularity of running would bring people together, improve health, and welcome beginners into the sport. In reality, however, it comes with a set aesthetic that blocks out those who don’t fit the norm and encourages people to chase hyperspecific standards. Running shouldn’t be about what someone looks like while doing it or meeting expectations—it should be about the people you meet, and the progress you make along the way.