This is going to hurt a little, but someone has to say it: we runners have a questionable relationship with social media.
In a world where every run is tracked, every route is shared, and every personal best is broadcasted to hundreds of followers, we've somehow transformed the simple act of running into a theatrical performance for a quasi-invisible audience.
This may not be "big news". But that doesn't stop me from reminding myself (and everyone reading this) of the unreasonably high price we are paying.
The relationship between runners and social platforms, above all Instagram and Strava, has evolved into something that often feels more like an obligation than a choice.
I'm not talking about technology or social behavior. I'm talking about what happens to our fundamental relationship with running when it becomes inseparable from public validation.
The Dopamine Race: When Kudos Deliver the Dopamine, Not Running
Remember when the runner's high was all you needed? Now, for many of us, that post-run euphoria has been hijacked by the anticipation of notifications. The emotional rush of running competes with the dopamine rush of watching likes roll in on your perfectly filtered running selfie or your meticulously mapped Strava activity.
What began as platforms to connect with fellow runners have transformed into validation machines. We've created an ecosystem where a 10K without photographic evidence might as well have never happened. A personal record without congratulatory comments feels strangely hollow. The internal satisfaction of strain and effort has been outsourced to external validation.
The result? We're running for an algorithm instead of ourselves.
The Comparison Marathon: Where Everyone Else Seems Faster
“Don't compare your beginning to someone else's middle, or your middle to someone else's end.” the saying goes. Yet social media has become a never-ending highlight reel that makes comparison not just inevitable but constant.
Scroll through Instagram on any given day and you'll find ultrarunners casually completing 50K training runs before breakfast. Flip to Strava and witness a parade of friends somehow shaving minutes off their 5K times while "taking it easy." The platforms have perfected the art of making the extraordinary seem ordinary and the exceptional seem expected.
For the average runner — the one who struggles to fit in 20 miles a week between work demands, family obligations and other life projects — this curated display of running excellence becomes a soul-crushing reminder of perceived inadequacy. The joy of personal improvement gets lost in the shadow of others' seemingly effortless achievements.
The Perfectionist's Playlist: Staging Your Running Life
There's a growing absurdity to how we document our running lives. The "casual" running selfie that took 12 attempts to capture. The strategic posting of runs (never too slow, never too short) to maintain a certain online persona. The carefully crafted captions that downplay achievements just enough to avoid seeming boastful while ensuring everyone knows exactly how fast and far you went.
We've developed a choreography for our running content: angles that make our strides look more efficient, filters that enhance the dramatic sky on our sunrise runs, and gear strategically positioned to showcase brand affiliations. Running, once the most authentic of activities, has for many become a production.

The Sponsored Dream: When Influence Eclipses Performance
The rise of the "influencer runner" has reshaped aspirations within the sport. For many new runners, the goal isn't simply to improve. It's to become sponsored, to receive free gear, to join ambassador programs.
This shift from internal to external motivation has profound implications. Training decisions become influenced by what will generate engagement rather than what will generate results. Runners chase trends over training wisdom. The fundamental question "what will make me better?" gets replaced by "what will make me more marketable?"
Meanwhile, brands have learned to capitalize on our insecurities and aspirations, creating the illusion that the right gear, the right nutrition products, or the right training app will transform us into the runners we see on our feeds. We've forgotten that most of the legends who built this sport did so without GPS watches, moisture-wicking fabrics, or carbon-plated super shoes. Let alone social validation.
The Authenticity Void: Running Without Filters
Perhaps the most insidious effect of social media on running culture is how it has eroded authentic experiences. The difficult, messy, unglamorous aspects of running — the failed workouts, the bonks, the injuries, the disappointing races or simply the hundreds of "I didn’t feel it" runs — largely disappear from our feeds. What remains is a sanitized version of running that bears little resemblance to the sport's reality.
The beginning runner sees this highlight reel and wonders why their experience — filled with struggle, discomfort, and slow, almost non-existent progress — doesn't match what they see online. Veterans of the sport find themselves editing their own running narratives to fit the expected mold, sharing selective truths while burying the full experience.
We've created a culture where vulnerability is performed rather than genuine. "Authentic" posts about struggles are carefully calculated to demonstrate resilience rather than actual weakness. Even our failures become content optimized for engagement.
Running Unplugged: Reclaiming Your Runner's Soul
So how do we break free from this cycle? How do we rediscover running for its intrinsic value rather than its social currency?
The answer isn't necessarily abandoning these platforms entirely. They do offer genuine benefits of community, information sharing, and positive inspiration when used mindfully. Instead, we need to fundamentally shift how we engage with them.
I'm not much for how-to guides, but here are a few ideas that might work for all of us.
Start by examining your motivations. Are you posting that run for yourself or for others? Would you still enjoy your running if no one ever knew about it? These uncomfortable questions can reveal how deeply social validation has become intertwined with your running identity.
Consider periodic social media fasts from running content. Run "naked" without tracking devices. Experience routes without documenting them. Reclaim the private joy that initially drew you to the sport.
Curate your feeds ruthlessly. Unfollow accounts that trigger comparison or inadequacy. Seek out content creators who showcase the full spectrum of running experiences — the triumphs and the struggles — rather than just the highlight reel.
Most importantly, reconnect with your "running why." Beyond the likes, beyond the kudos, beyond the validation lies your original reason for your running. Whether it was health, mental clarity, competitive drive, or simple joy in movement, that core motivation, your "running why", remains more sustainable than any external reward system.
The Revolution of Enough: Finding Contentment in Your Running Story
But the most revolutionary act in today's running culture is declaring yourself enough. Your pace is enough. Your distance is enough. Your body is enough. Your effort is enough.
This isn't about lowering standards or abandoning ambition. It's about reclaiming the authority to define success on your own terms rather than through the metrics of social approval.
The quiet run, undocumented and unseen, can be the most profound. The personal victory, celebrated only within, can be the most meaningful. The journey, with all its imperfections intact rather than edited out, is the true story worth living.
We face a fundamental choice: Will we run for the feed, or will we run for ourselves? It all comes down to this.
When you strip away the likes, the followers, and the digital validation, what remains is the ancient truth your feet have always known: running isn't something you share, it's something you become.
Everything Not Running
Have you witnessed the social media exodus? Is it time for us all to make a move?
In light of recent developments where major tech platforms seem increasingly aligned with the new US administration's controversial policies, I'm wondering if it's time for me (for us?) to reconsider our digital homes.
Are we inadvertently supporting platforms that no longer align with our values of inclusivity and community? What would we lose — and potentially gain — by migrating to alternative platforms?
I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether we should make the shift or continue to work within these established spaces.
On Repeat
Despite their weird sense of humor, TRC from London have a lot of power in their bag. If you watch their video for "Moaner" and make it to the beginning of the actual song, you'll know what I'm talking about. The rather atypical appearance for a hardcore/metalcore group and the unexpected rap part at the end also make TRC a very special band. Without saying much more, "Moaner" is an absolute killer song and that's why it's on this week's On Repeat.
Most definitely! A nuanced take on how online life affects real-life. I actually wrote a post a few weeks back on my own Substack that references a similar topic. I called it "Running For Kudos: The Double Edged Sword of Strava's influence." I share a few tips about healthy social media use and dive into a 2022 study that examines the psychosocial effect of Strava on runners. It was really fascinating to see how different types of athletes approach social sport networks like Strava and how it can be used both for good and bad.
Couldn’t be more on point. I resigned from Strava years ago and never looked back. It was a liberating feeling to feed my ambitious soul from within rather than by those silly kudos, thumbs up and hearts. I even ran a 35k mountain trail race naked (without my watch) and had a blast. I also particularly liked your thought-provoking question at the
end, re: social media platforms. 👀