The power of running together

Park Run and the participation principle.

Jessica Norman

Jessica is a Formation Tutor at St Mellitus College, and completing a PhD in Pauline anthropology,

Runners jog along a path into the sunset.

Park Run UK

There has been a surge among Millennials (myself included) in running. After watching the London Marathon this year, a record 840,318 people entered the ballot for 2025. The encouragement, stories and social media increase in ‘running-Tok’ may have been behind this, but I think it says something more profound about society's sudden interest in running.

I started running back in 2019. It provided a space to get outside, clear my head and improve my fitness. It was a hobby, turned interested, turned key personality trait as it became easy for me to converse with people about whether you were a Hoka or On shoe wearer. But my running only really improved when I began to run with people. Quietly competitive, I like being able to mark my pace against those around me. In 2023, I signed up for my first half-marathon, leading me to simultaneously sign up for “Park Run”. Park Run is a free community event that takes place around the UK. At my local park run, an average of 1,500 people turn up each Saturday to run five kilometres around our local park, rain or shine. I was amazed to see people week-in-week-out turning up to run together. This weekly ritual provides a space for connection, community, and, for some, their sense of identity. The hard decision to wake up early on a Saturday morning to make my way to the start line gets replaced by the endorphins of participating in this run with others. There is power in running with others.

But running with people makes it easier to stay the course, run for longer, and keep going to the end.

A recent article in The Atlantic observes the social change that has occurred as the number of people attending church declines. The author noticed that the Church didn’t only provide a space for worship and an opportunity to connect with the divine, but also a narrative of identity, community, and ritual to our weekly rhythm. As the framework of the church is removed from society, we see an increase in isolation and disconnection. As church attendance declines, applications to run 26.2 miles increase!

Spaces like Park Run provide this sense of community and connection that is becoming harder to find in our increasingly digital and disconnected world. A surge in race partipcation speaks of a culture longing for community, connection and identity. A common characteristic trait for millennials is their desire to develop and find meaningful motivation in their goals and what they want to achieve. Gathering with those with similar interests or goals brings out the best in what we can achieve and teaches us about the power of doing things together.

When running on my own, I am always tempted to cut the run short, change my route, and, let’s be honest, go and get a coffee. But running with people makes it easier to stay the course, run for longer, and keep going to the end.

Societies’ need for connection and community is stronger than ever. When St Paul’ wrote to an early church, he frequently used the metaphor of running a race with a goal in mind. The power of the crowd in a race is tangible, both from those cheering you on and those with whom you are running. It is easier to run for longer when I run with people and am encouraged to keep going. As someone who attends church, I can see how it upholds a place in my Christian faith that I don’t succumb to cutting it short or ducking out, as can often be the temptation when I run alone.

A record number of applications to run the 2025 London Marathon speaks of how we all seek community, connection and identity. Park Run on a Saturday and Church on Sunday have more in common than perhaps I initially realised. They each provide a space for community and connection, but each has its own goal and focus on identity. Although the goals are different, the underlying principle is the same: it is better to run with people because there is power in running together.

Snippet

Belief

Community

Creed

10 March 2025

2 min read

Giles Coren dips his toe in the water - will he take the plunge?

In a disembodied digital age, he's made a decision to participate instead.

Jamie Mulvaney

Jamie is Vicar of St Michael's Chester Square, London.

A casually dressed man strides down the aisle of a church between the pews.

Danique Godwin on Unsplash

It takes a lot of courage to write about what you don’t know. Newspaper columnists and restaurant critics are paid to be omniscient, and Giles Coren is very good at channeling observation and insight into his articles in an acerbic and amusing way.

He recently wrote in The Times about what he does and doesn’t know about Christianity. He wrote with humility and humour, which amongst other things made me wonder how many of us who are part of the church would do well to be honest about what we don’t know.

The journey that Coren tells about his “not not believing” is staked along the way by the language of the church and its buildings. In other words: worship.

Belle Tindall recently wrote about the prejudice met by Kate in White Lotus when she tells her friends that she finds going to church “very moving.” To them it is “self-defeating”, but perhaps it opens us up the possibility that there is a greater centre of gravity than our own selves. Going to church has been associated with so many unhelpful divisions and distractions and often the church is to blame.

But believers and non-believers alike run the risk of missing out on so much of faith. We limit it to information and observation, when the full benefit is found in participation. Whether pilgrims, prodigals or someone else altogether, we can analyse and stand on the sidelines as much as we want, but Coren and his son are taking part:

“I gave up not going to church some time ago. Most Sundays I am there, praying and singing — another lapsed atheist hoping that the non-existent God he was brought up not to believe in doesn’t see.”

Perhaps this act, and writing about it in The Times, is even braver given our seemingly disembodied, digital, post-pandemic individualistic lives. A podcast may give you propositional truths you can accept or reject, but being caught up in worship is in a different order altogether. Coren writes:

“And I have a sense that God is there — in the tradition, the words, the 2,000 years of conviction, the imagination of all the people who came before me…”

God is the interesting thing about Christianity, and Christians believe that this God became human. Amidst all that we don’t know and don’t see, going to church makes tangible what can feel intangible.

Coren writes that the only moment he feels left out is in Communion, and that perhaps one day he will get baptised. The Greek word where we get ‘baptism’ from means to overwhelm. In an overwhelming world, more and more people are seeing the merit in being overwhelmed with God. If we are to experience this, it means that at some point we need to dive into the water.