Grumpy Runners

Why are the runners of London so grumpy?

As a resident of London and a worker there for most of my adult life, I’ve had the pleasure of being able to run in many of the parks of this great Capital City.  Battersea Park is quite close to my work, and there are some great Thames-side runs that you can do on a lunchtime to get to the Peace Pagoda, and then choose whether to run some loops or just run back through Chelsea or Vauxhall.  My favourite area though by far is the ‘three parks’ area of Central London.  This is made up of St James’s Park, Green Park, and Hyde Park.  These three Royal Parks link together very well and allow those lucky enough to be able to get there within their lunch “hour” to enjoy miles and miles of traffic free open space.  There is actually the “three and a half” parks which also takes in Kensington Gardens, but that’s going a bit technical and not the point of this blog.

On Saturday, on my 15th “tube” run (part of my unique challenge to be the first person to run the entire tube network – see here for more!) I was disappointed that the runners I passed in Hyde Park were somewhat unresponsive to my smiles and attempts of acknowledgement. I put it down perhaps to the time of the week, or time of day, or the weather.  However I was a little uneasy at this because to be honest I love running around the Royal Parks, and wanted to be assured that this particular day was an anomaly.

So today (Wednesday), I set out from my office in Westminster and made my way around the edge of St James’s Park – along Birdcage Walk – then round Buckingham Palace, shimmying over the roundabout and along the edge of Green Park, through the Wellington Arch and into Hyde Park, and along my usual route which took in the circumference of the Serpentine Lake.  It’s about 4-5 miles all in.  The weather was cold: perhaps 0-5 degrees; light clouds; and some chilly winds.  But there were bouts of sunlight and so an entirely ambient lunchtime.

The thing about running, as contrasted to other times where we share our personal space with other people – for example, commuting – is that this is an activity that individuals do through choice. People should run because they enjoy it.  Running might be a means to an end – e.g. training for a race; to get fit; to lose weight;  to combat depression; to spend time with friends; to inspire others.  It might also be an end in itself – i.e. no GPS gadgetry; no defined route; no expectations about speed; a pure exploration and adventure.

Therefore, can someone please explain why so few runners care to acknowledge their fellow runners when they see them out and about?  I mean there is probably a scale of interventions and responsiveness:

Level 1 – No acknowledgement
Level 2 – Moving out the way for the other runner
Level 3 – As above, but with eye contact
Level 4 – As above, but with a nod, or a smile
Level 5 – As above, but with a brief greeting
Level 6 – As above, but with hugs and kisses.

OK I’m not expecting Level 6 interactions wherever I go.  Also I accept that when people are out and about with other people, then its okay for them to be engaged in their conversations and not to need to acknowledge people outside their ‘zone’ but for the majority of runners out there on their own, why is it so difficult to take the ever-so small step to acknowledge other people doing the same as you?

One of my new friends said that ‘a smile is infectious’ and that as a result they get lots of smiles back.   I wonder how they would have fared today in the park.  Many people run with music players – which I think is a shame as not only do they drown the beauty of nature around them, but they also exclude the telemetry coming in the form of car traffic, bikes, other people (e.g. coming up behind them) and so as a result are less in tune with their surroundings.  Other people I run past stare into the middle distance.  Some would say that they are in their “zone” – which is fair enough but if they wanted to get into their zone, then they may as well have done that in a window-less gymnasium in a basement rather than clogging up the pedestrian tracks of the great parks of London.

It wasn’t all bad news from today’s run – I got several eye contacts and a few smiles. There was one guy who even though he was running with someone else, probably a work colleague, he noticed me from a long way away and we made eye contact and smiled as we passed, enough to convey the message which says ‘yes, we’re out here and enjoying the run, good day to you’.   Also on the route back to Wellington Arch, caught by the lights I saw another runner who I started a conversation with. I asked him if he was enjoying his run; we talked about how I had done a race at the weekend; he asked me what my finish time was. I gave it to him, so that he could process and rank me against his own times.  He didn’t tell me how fast or slow he was – to be honest it wouldn’t have affected me one bit whether he’d run a race in 2:05 or 1:15 – that’s extrinsic motivation that I’m not at all into.

I returned to work wondering whether the chill of this pre-Spring weather has sapped the lifeblood out of the goodwill that I know so many other running friends have and emanate with a warm glow whenever I see them.

So I challenge the people of London, the next time you are out running: Reach out to your fellow runners… smile at them; wave at them; take off your headphones; switch off your time recording devices.  And reconnect with the real world around you.

Let me know how many Level 1,2,3,4,5 and above connections you make on your next run. Was it more or less than you expected?