The Church of the Sunday Long Run
“You out for a longy tomorrow?”
If you are a distance runner and receive this text on a Saturday evening, it is your earthly duty to connect this poor soul to a running group immediately, lest they be forced to attend church alone the next day.
The fabled Church of the Sunday Long Run is a sacred tradition amongst distance runners. Holy texts recount historical gatherings in which groups would meet to knock out 20% of their weekly mileage in a single, bold pilgrimage.
The earliest documented example of this practice is the Greek hero Pheidippides. The father of the modern marathon is said to have died in the ecstasy of spiritual enlightenment, now known as an endorphin rush, after completing a zone two jog across Greece some 2500 years ago.
The practice of modern worshippers varies dramatically: from wiry, shirtless high school lads meeting at the local trailhead, to ‘influencer’ running groups touting their Holy Communion of Maurten Gels. However, regardless of where and how one attends church, it is well-established that only pagans and blasphemers pay worship midweek.
And what is faith without prayer? Almost as sanctified as the long run itself is the usually borderline offensive conversation that accompanies it. Common prayers include:
Complaining about needing the bathroom
Reminiscing about the time you needed the bathroom
Openly insulting any congregation member (you need not be provoked)
Accusing anyone who has taken your Strava crown of being a cyclist
How much you love running
How much you hate running
Discussing other, more interesting sports
Wondering what it is like to be in a romantic relationship
Abusing that one person who is somehow actually in a romantic relationship and has committed the unforgivable sin of skipping church in the past because of it
Once service has concluded, devout observers will gather at the local coffee shop to drink their weight in caffeine (that’s not as much as it sounds – these are distance runners, after all). Here, the conversation is limited to one topic: the long run that literally just happened and for which everyone was present. These runners will exchange stories and memories from 30 minutes prior, proudly exclaiming stats they have found on their Ben 10-looking GPS watches.
“What a day!” they will declare as they walk back into their house just after 8:00 am, before promptly sitting on the couch and not moving until sunset. If someone gets too close, the distance runner will, without being prompted, display the map from their run, much like a preschooler might show you their art. If nobody is around, the runner will happily stare at their achievement on Strava, reopening the app each time one of their 14 followers gives them kudos.
Bizarre as this ritual may seem, participating in the Church of the Sunday Long Run demonstrates a runner’s commitment to their craft: it is the sacred anvil on which they will shape their success.
Two Tinman Elite runners out for a Sunday long run in Boulder, Colorado
(Photo Credit: Tinman Elite)