Soul for Soles

The Unspoken Toll of Running Brand Sponsorships

It’s the turn of the year, again, and most pro and semi-pro athletes in running make their most important announcement of the season. At least from their standpoint.

Parting ways with old sponsors, renewing cooperations, or teasing some “big changes,” which, in most cases, means announcing a new sponsor.

Even not-so-elite runners are very excited about this topic, although in their case it’s much less a question of sheer survival (“How do I pay my rent?”), but rather of reputation and status within the running community. And of ego. Something I never understood.

Who am I to judge?

(In fact, negotiating a record deal and not a sponsorship, but this is the most authentic photo I could find. Photo by Martin Liebl)

Let me first qualify myself to write about this topic by telling you that I have experienced the exact same phenomenon from all perspectives during my time as a music business professional.

What free shoes, shirts and energy bars are for runners, are guitars, strings, and amplifiers for musicians. I had the pleasure of being equipped by music companies, myself. On the other hand, I also helped the bands I worked for as their manager (sounds much more pompous than it actually was), get endorsement deals, too.

To be honest, it was never been about the free stuff or discounts the bands got, but always about putting the company’s logo on the tour poster and in the album liner-notes. If you boasted endorsement deals, you were one of the “big” bands. You were a “professional” musician. A band who “made it”. In short, it boosted your ego.

Instead of looking at actual album sales and streams, or focusing on how many people show up at your concerts, it seemed as if most bands’ self-confidence relied solely on their endorsement deals.

What freaked me out even more was that the contracts the bands signed were terrible. Legally perfectly alright. Not shady or oppressive. But they defined a terrible mismatch between what the bands got and what they had to do in return. A pattern I would soon rediscover in running.

Different passion, same misconduct

The same behavior patterns came back to haunt me years later, when my running clothing brand Willpower gained traction. For the last 4 years, every week, at least one (often more) athlete application reaches my inbox. They usually read like this:

Dear Willpower CEO,
[or another brand’s name, if they failed to personalize their message]

My name is [xxx], I’m a very talented runner, and I really like [your brand]. Can I join your athlete program?

Last year, I won my age group at [insert local 10k], and I am planning to do the following races [I have never heard of] next year. My personal bests are as followed, [xxx].

You see, Willpower and I would be a perfect match.

In return for free stuff I post pictures of me wearing your clothes on instagram. I have [xxx] followers, and they really like me a lot.

It’s a win-win type of thing.

Please get back to me soon, as I am also talking to other brands. Thanks.

Best Regards,
[Name] / @running.xxx

I won’t dive into detail how the actual “athlete program” behind Willpower, the Willpower Athletes, works. Just to say so much, applications like the one above never result in an admission to our exclusive club.

I can clearly see the desire to belong, especially among recreational and semi-professional runners. Not only to their peer group or division (road, trail, flat ultra, track, etc.). But also to a brand, or rather the image of a brand.

Fair enough. Who would deny any runner to team up with a running brand or outfitter of their choice. So why not join one of the many endorsement programs or brand ambassador teams out there? This whole issue becomes delicate if you make up an honest cost-benefit calculation: What will I receive for what I put in?

What runners get

Big endorsement programs for non-elite athletes, such as “Team Red” by Altra (now called “Altra Run Crew”), the Asics Frontrunners, or that Running Banana thing Brooks does, usually include the following perks for their athletes:

• Free stuff

• An endorsee discount, if you need even more stuff

• Invitations to team meetups and so-called workshops

• If you’ve got the look, occasional photo shooting jobs

• Free starts at given races, usually sponsored by the brand

• More or less effective participation in product development and testing

This is the point where most runners already switch off and go full on “I want that!” mode. I got sympathy for that. All these perks are great, and I would rather not begrudge any runner their brand benefits. However, the reason a brand offers you these perks is not because you are such a nice person or amazing runner. It’s because they want something in return. And that is a lot.

(Running in circles. Photo by Nils Laengner)

What runners invest

Once again, the point I am trying to bring across can be narrowed down to one simple question:

Is what you get offered an adequate compensation for what you, the runner, actually give the brand?

Here’s what the sports brand gets from you in return:

• Exclusivity (You’re not allowed to wear any other brands’ stuff)

• Promotional efforts (You not only have to wear – or drink – the brand’s products, but also actively promote them)

• Social media marketing (You are bound to extensively use your social media channels to promote the brand and its products, most often in a prescribed way)

• Usage of likeness (The brand can use your name, image, and likeness for promotional materials, advertisements and other marketing)

• Event participation (Mandatory participation in specific events and races sponsored by the brand)

• Availability for photoshoots (Usually underpaid, or not paid at all)

The most precious valuable that the brand gets from you, though, is your identity and your integrity. Not only as a runner, but as a human being. You’re not “Peter, the funny guy”, or “Erica from Norwich” anymore. You’re now a “Salomon Athlete”, “Brooks Happy Runner” or a “green goo slurping AG1 ambassadors”.

Brands expect unlimited, no-questions-asked loyalty from their endorsees. Runners who sign up for such a program become the most powerful marketing instrument a company can own and exploit. A real human that lives, breathes and, most of all, advertises, the brand and its products 24/7, without asking any questions.

“Don’t Sell Me Short” – Bad Religion

There’s hardly anything more valuable than our identity and our integrity. It ‘s who we are, what we stand for, what we believe in, and how we want to present us to the world. Do you really want to limit yourself to be considered an “Asics Frontrunner” or “Altra Run Crew Member” only? Does your story as a runner and person really end here? I doubt it. But that’s undoubtedly what those endorsement programs aim at.

“And what if…” counterarguments

And what if you really love the brand? You mean, if you totally stand behind everything they do and how they do it, what’s then wrong with supporting them by telling the world how great they are? Nothing, if you do it of your own free will. But as soon as there is a “deal”, even if it’s just a shady one-page .pdf document sent out in mass to thousands of runners, you have to ask yourself if what you give is worth what you get.

And what if they give you a lot of money? You mean real money, not just free stuff? Well, almost everyone has a price tag. And there are much more humiliating things people (and runners) do for money, than running through Chamonix dressed up as a banana. But hardly any brand opens its wallet wide enough to really continue this discussion here.

My hypothetical benchmark is the following: If a brand or company offers you a continuous monthly payment that allows you to make a good living from it, including health insurance and a pension plan, then it is legit to go all in with that banana-thing. Unfortunately, or rather “fortunately”, this does not happen in reality.

And what if I’m a pro runner and get a much better deal? You mean a deal that includes a monthly payment, travel allowance, bonuses and prize money? In some cases, this is, indeed, enough money and compensation to hustle through a season without living at your paren’t house or eating canned ravioli day-in day-out. At the same time, professional athletes are under much more pressure regarding their financial situation because their extensive training and need for recovery usually does not allow an additional full- or part-time job. They’re also at much higher risk of getting injured and losing potential racing bonuses, or, even worse, their contract renewal.

To put it in another, more figurative, way: Pro athletes, who get a financial compensation, have a temporary full-time employment by the marketing department of a sports brand, being paid part-time or less. Limited to one year at a time, with not chance for promotion.

Even though elite deals look differently from the recreational athletes’ endorsement programs, I draw the same conclusion: What professional athletes give to a brand or company does not even closely match what they get in return. The elite is much more visible, they have much more reach, and they are being looked up to by their fans and followers. Something companies know very well to take advantage of. In short, elite runners are of even greater value than recreational ones and thus should critically question even more what they get in return for their identity and integrity.

Ok, what now, smartass?

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” ― Oscar Wilde

My unsolicited advice for most runners out there is equally simple as it is brilliant: Just run. Run for yourself, run for running’s sake, dress up as you wish and simply enjoy your hobby to the fullest.

To everyone who wants or needs to make a living from running, my advice is also not too complicated: Stop advertising other brands and build your own one. No matter if you start a podcast, write books, become a coach, launch your clothing line, or travel the world as a speaker. It’s your integrity, your identity, your values and your personal story. Make use of it. It’s too precious to give it to someone else.

Yes, that’s easier said than done. But if you look closely, you will find a good number of runners out there, who do an outstanding job in “doing their own thing”, from small side-hustles to full-on business ventures. It is, indeed, not only possible, but even more worth a try.

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Everything not Running

I have started writing. Again. In no particular direction, to be honest. It’s a wild mix of autobiographical texts, short essays about running and deep-dives into gripping topics that could become Das Z Letters at one point.

Every morning I wake up, brush my teeth, pour a cup of coffee, read a chapter of “The Daily Pressfield,” smile at Resistance, and start to write. Sometimes only a bullet list, sometimes a few sentences, and sometimes several pages.

It is untypical for me to get motivated by the act of writing itself, and not by a potential result. Sounds a little misleading. I do love writing. But most of the time, I have in mind what it will be in the end. A magazine article, an Instagram caption, a Das Z Letter, a promotional text, or a book chapter. Presently, I'm not really concerned with the outcome, and I like it a lot.

Writing for writing’s sake is very much like running for running’s sake. You have that deep conviction that this is what you have to do right now. Instead of questioning it, you simply write, or run, and go with the flow. a truly liberating act for someone as single-minded as me.

In this exact manner, today’s Everything not Running column came about.

(Writing for writing’s sake with a little help of Harry)