First Steps with Scrambled Legs: A Run Club Reflection
My First Run Club Experience
From Tower Bridge to Clapham Common, a morning run with strangers turns into a reminder of why we move — and what makes London feel alive.
My First Run Club Experience
It was chilly when I left the house at 07:00 to head for Southfields Tube station. I considered bringing a sweater, but with faith in the weather forecast — despite the looming grey clouds — I left it behind, crumpled on my bed.
Truthfully, I hadn’t slept much. My mind’s been a little busy lately. But with only a few weeks left in London, I knew I had to commit. Run clubs have taken the capital by storm, and if I was going to understand the hype, now was the time. So I picked Scrambled Legs — a brilliantly named run club known for their longer routes and quicker pace. I’d seen their Saturday Long Run posted on Strava: Tower Bridge to Clapham Common, 22km, pacing options at 5:00/km and 5:30/km.
I arrived a bit early, grabbed a flat white at a nearby café, and made use of the facilities before walking over to the meeting point. There they were — runners of all kinds. Not just the wiry, ultra-lean archetypes, but everyday people in trainers, showing up to connect and move on a Saturday morning.
The plan was simple: meet at 09:00, run 22km, and make it to Clapham Common in time for touch rugby at 11:00. Even at a slower pace, I’d have made it. But London had other ideas.
Trooping the Colour
That Saturday was Trooping the Colour, and central London was a maze of crowd-control barriers, fancy hats, and military pomp. After just 4km of running, we found ourselves walking — trying to navigate through St James’s and Hyde Park, squeezed between tourists, guards, and roads blocked off for the event. Credit to the run leaders: they shepherded a 30-strong group through the madness without losing anyone. That in itself felt like a win.
We paused at Kensington Gardens — part regroup, part toilet stop — and then split into two pace groups: 5:45/km and 6:00/km. With the chaos behind us and the pack moving more rhythmically, I let my mind relax. I wasn't sure I'd make it to touch rugby in time, but for a moment, I didn’t care. I was running through London, and everywhere around us, people were moving — elderly on inline skates, other run clubs waving as they passed. The sun had come out, and with it, a version of London rarely seen: optimistic, energised, alive. Without headphones, I caught all the little sounds — keys jangling, footsteps tapping, conversations humming around me.
The peace soon evaporated like the sweat on my skin on this increasingly warm day. We stopped at Sainsbury’s just past Belgravia for a refuel. I realised then that if I didn’t break off, I wouldn’t make it to Clapham in time. So that was it. My first run club experience ended without a post-run coffee or croissant. I waved goodbye, took a less scenic route past Chelsea Bridge and Battersea Park, and made it to Clapham Common just in time to meet my brother and the Surrey Exiles boys for an hour of touch rugby. Whilst we were playing, I saw the run club come past us, altogether on the final stretch.
At the time, I couldn’t help but critique — why didn’t the route account for major events? Why didn’t we stick to advertised paces? What was the thinking when planning this route? It’s a hard habit to shake, coming from the world of sports events. But over the week that followed, my perspective softened. The run leaders had managed to guide 30-something runners through the centre of London — safely, inclusively, and with good humour. No one got left behind. That thought hit me while watching Lilo & Stitch, oddly enough, as I compared run clubs to Ohana.
“Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”
Substitute the word family for run club and you’ve got yourself a great slogan.
Final Thoughts
A few years ago, I’d have struggled to run 22km — let alone do it comfortably at 5:00/km. And I’m grateful. Grateful that run clubs like this exist. Grateful for a community that welcomes runners of all speeds and stories — a real alternative to the turn-and-burn grind of hill reps, track nights, and exclusive athletics clubs.
Maybe London is finally becoming a city where movement matters more than speed.
Or maybe we’re just learning to move together in the same direction.
To those thinking about starting a run club, or event just attending one I would say do it. You never really know the impact you have on those around you — or how fleeting life can be. A pat on the back, a high five, a few kind words… So keep showing up. Keep encouraging people. Keep creating space for connection. It matters.