I hate the word “jogging.” I may be slow. I often run-walk. But I am not and will never be a “jogger.” (Shudders.)
Look, I realize being anti-jogger is kind of anti- the Easy Pace ethos. There’s no right way to approach your running life, so I guess if you identify as a jogger I have no choice but to support your journey. But the thing is, there are so many reasons to refuse the label of jogging.
First of all, runners run marathons and win admiration, and all joggers seem to do is get murdered. Any time a runner—especially if they’re female—is attacked on a run, the media immediately reduces them to the status of “jogger.” See here. Here. And here for recent examples. (Apparently the rule applies even when the attacker is a bear—or a monkey.)
Beyond the unfortunate connotation with violence, there’s the fact that jogging is reductive. It implies that if you’re going a certain speed, then you’re doing something entirely different from what real runners do. Or else why wouldn’t you just call it running?
In my book, even if I am hunched over like Quasimodo and moving at the speed of a glacier (which happens to me a lot), as long as I am bending my knees and moving forward one foot at a time, I am running.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I’ve been working on running slowly. My whole thing is that I’m slow, so I mean I’m trying to move, like, really slowly. I’m trying to find my true easy pace—the one that coaches and personalities are always referring to as a “conversational” pace. I’ve always balked at the idea of being able to talk while running because um, hello, this shit is hard.
But study after study has shown that if you want to improve as a runner, you should do the majority of your training at this mysterious so-easy-you-can-gossip-with-the-girlies pace. For example: This 2013 study that looked at two groups of runners. One group spent 77 percent of their training time running easy, 3 percent at a moderate effort, and 20 percent doing high-intensity workouts. The other group spent roughly half their time taking it easy, 35 percent at a moderate effort, and 19 percent on high-intensity. At the end of the study, both groups raced a 10k, and the first group improved way more than the second group.
It’s an approach known as “polarized training,” and it works because when you spend a lot of time just running sorta-hard you’re more likely to burn out. Apparently, if you run easy—truly easy—more often, you are better able to really kill yourself in hard workouts. And then you’re able to recover from those hard efforts while still building your aerobic abilities, so you can repeat this cycle again and again.
The thing is, a lot of runners (me) like running at a moderate pace because of their egos. I’d argue that those of us who fall into the “back of the pack” category are even more prone to this mistake because we’re slow to begin with. It takes longer to complete a workout at a true easy pace—and it takes fucking forever when you’re moving the speed of a glacier. It’s not as satisfying when you’re done, and it can be so hard to remind yourself to hold back, that the progress is there even if you’re not pushing up against it three times a week.
I’ve been through this cycle so many times, where I run too hard all the time. I end up running myself literally ragged, such that when I do want to do intervals or run faster I can’t quite reach my potential. This ultimately leads to failure on race day, which leads to demoralization and just feeling like a jogger—ugh!
I can hear you through the interwebs saying to me, “Amelia, it’s okay to be a jogger.” And yes, it’s okay if that’s what you are trying to do. But despite my speed or lack thereof that is simply not the project I’m engaged in. I’m not necessarily trying to get faster, but I am trying to push myself. What I’m working on is the constant battle to improve, to squeeze a few more seconds out, to hold on in the middle of the storm, to find my humanity in the roaring discomfort and just do something I haven’t done yet. I’m trying to run, in my own way, at my own pace.
What’s funny is that “being okay with being slow” keeps morphing into a new challenge for me. At first, refusing the jogger title was a way to build a bridge and get over my imposter syndrome, and to change the possibilities in my head. Now, refusing to be a jogger means actually letting myself jog, even letting myself walk, a majority of the time, and still trusting the process.
In so many ways, running slowly is actually harder than running fast. It takes more time, more patience, more trust. But remind yourself: no matter how slowly you go, you are no less of a runner. If you are moving forward, knees bent, you are running. If, like me, you are working on a running project, let this be your permission to ~ chill ~. Let yourself slow way, way down. See how it feels and more importantly how you feel during your next run.
Song Suggestion Box
Introducing “Song Suggestion Box” —I might change the name of this, but let’s go with it for now. Each issue will come with a little diddy about a song to listen to on a run.
This week’s song….
"Hold On” Wilson Phillips
In 1990 “Hold On” became girl-group Wilson Phillips’ first No. 1 single. The lyrics capture the inner monologue of a young woman struggling with addiction and anxiety. “I thought to myself, ‘Well, AA tells me, just hold on, just one day at a time.’ I thought, ‘OK, if I can just hold on for one more day, then I can do this. If I can just take life one day at a time.’,” Chynna Phillips told Rolling Stone last year. “It sounds so cliché as I’m saying it to you, but if I can just hold on for one more day, then I will be able to get through life if I just take it one day at a time.” Yes, it is a little cliche. But consider the earthy, west coast vibes, the early ‘90s synths and guitar, and the bridge that goes:
I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free from the chains
And then try not to belt this out from the sidewalk 2 miles in. It simply can’t be done!
Other things to think about while running this week…
This 61-year-old dude who runs 20 miles EVERY! DAY! This is an old link, but I’m still thinking about it months later. Related to our above discussion: He says he’s able to do it because he takes calls and works while he runs. (srsly, how the fuck???)
Olivia Rodrigo, please, I am 32. If you are not listening to Sour, what are you doing?????
Are you an Ocean Person or a Mountain Person?
As always, thank you for reading Easy Pace! If you liked this post, please share it with another (slow) runner. Comments, questions, song suggestions, please reach out to me ameliafaith@gmail.