Running: The Tipping Point
From fad to future, and what comes next
A couple of weeks ago, I was at Love Trails Festival with my partner Karlea. It's an event unlike any other I've ever been to. Set on the windswept coastline of the Gower Peninsula in South Wales, Love Trails is part trail running festival, part music event, part wellness retreat. Think: sunrise miles, sea dips, DJ sets, and panel talks under stretch tents.
On our first night, one of those panel talks stuck with me. The facilitator asked the panel two simple questions:
"What's next for running culture?"
"Is running over-saturated?"
I couldn't shake them. On stage were meant to be people in the industry, with their fingers on the pulse, and none of them could answer the question unless it was to promote their run club or latest running related venture.
Running has always been my niche. At school, I was called Keeno, Forrest Gump, the Golden Retriever, you name it, because I did just keep running. Back in 2019, it became a rediscovered passion, a solitary pursuit, one I liked to shout about but didn't expect anyone to be listening. And then, all of a sudden, it became... cool?
As I sat there, listening to four people all a little dumbfounded, trying to find words, a book popped into my head: The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. One of my all-time favourites. It's about how cultural shifts happen, how ideas spread, and how a niche becomes mainstream. And it was then I realised: we're living through that moment right now!
In The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell argues that ideas spread like epidemics. Which is interesting because this idea really seems to have caught fire during the pandemic of 2020. He say that Ideas and cultural shifts simmer. Then all of a sudden they tip.
He outlines three forces that drive these cultural shifts:
The Law of the Few – Influential individuals who shape the movement
The Stickiness Factor – Ideas that are easy to adopt, hard to forget
The Power of Context – A cultural moment that makes it all possible
Let’s look at how running, in over the past five years has example after example of each of these three forces.
1. The Law of the Few
“The success of any kind of social epidemic is heavily dependent on the involvement of people with a particular and rare set of social gifts.”
Running culture didn’t tip because of a single global campaign or Olympic moment. It tipped because of the people who made it feel personal. The ones who turned a solo sport into a social movement. The ones with those rare social gifts. Gladwell calls them Mavens, Connectors, and Salespeople and you don’t have to look far to find them in London, a place where it feels like the whole city is running mad.
The Mavens
These are people who obsessively gather information about products, services, deals, or ideas and then share knowledge freely, like they can’t hold it all in. They want to help others by sharing what they know. Their influence comes from trust, not persuasion.
“What sets Mavens apart is that they want to help. They have the knowledge and the social skills to start word-of-mouth epidemics.” Malcolm Gladwell
These are the gear-heads, the training nerds, the people who’ve turned running advice into a love language. They break down the difference between tempo and threshold runs, argue over supershoes, and build marathon blocks in colour-coded spreadsheets.
Think of Marcus Brown (@themarathonmarcus), whose detailed storytelling around performance and mindset has inspired thousands to believe in a sub-3 or even just their first finish line. Or Ali Ball a Runner’s World journalist, endurance runner, and trusted voice online as @AliGoesRunning. Her race recaps, honest reflections, and empowering storytelling make running feel real, relatable, and deeply human. She’s part coach, part friend, part therapist in your feed.
The Connectors
These are the people who bridge social groups, linking friends from different spheres, industries, or walks of life. They don’t just know a lot of people; they know different kinds of people. That diversity is what allows ideas to travel from one community to another.
When Malcolm Gladwell wrote The Tipping Point, social media was in its infancy. Today, Connectors have evolved; they might look like influencers, or the magnetic leaders of your local run crew. But the ones who really move culture? They’re not just broadcasting, they’re building.
They’re the ones who turn a casual Wednesday shakeout into a weekly ritual.
They’re behind the WhatsApp group that grows into 100+ runners.
They’re organising post-run pub nights, pasta dinners, and spontaneous trail retreats.
“Connectors are people with a special gift for bringing the world together.” – Malcolm Gladwell
Online influence can inspire and inform, but it’s no replacement for in-person connection. There’s a reason people show up to Run Club hoping for more than a workout; they’re searching for something outside their social algorithm. Something real.
And London has no shortage of these cultural microcosms: Your Friendly Runners. Midnight Runners. Run the Boroughs. Scrambled Legs. Roots Run Club. Puresport.
More than running clubs, these are communities powered by charismatic volunteers and founders who simply keep showing up. Same time. Same place. Every week.
These aren’t just leaders. They’re hosts — creating space for connection, belonging, and a little chaos. They are the glue holding this movement together.
The Salespeople
Finally, the Salespeople. These people are the charmers, the ones who get you to show up at 6am, in the dark, in the rain, even when your motivation is nowhere to be found. They’re the reason someone runs that first mile. Or returns for a second.
This is what Runna have tapped into, they have found the people who tip inaction into action. They found people whose influence is as emotional as it is instructional. These are people who convince you to get up, the buy the new shoes, whose discount code and kind words were the last kick you needed to download the app or get up for the 6am run.
2. The Stickiness Factor
“There is a simple way to package information that, under the right circumstances, can make it irresistible.” – Malcolm Gladwell
Running is sticky because it’s simple to start and transformative to stick with.
A Look
Running isn't just functional anymore. It's fashionable. And the look, whether at a weekend trail camp or a Tuesday night track session is as much a part of the culture as the run itself. Gone are the hi-vis bibs and marathon finisher tees, although I definitely still collect the Marathon tees. In their place? 5" pace breaker shorts, crew socks, technical windbreakers, and a pair of Oakleys that look like they belong on a ski slope.
The vibe is performance-core meets fashion-week-off-duty. A hybrid of gorp-core, streetwear, and race-day utility. It's not uncommon to see a runner in a waterproof Arc'teryx shell, a Nike Aeroswift split short, Calf sleeves, and a pair of go-faster wraparound Oakley Sutros that scream Tour de France more than Regent's Park easy run.
A perfect example is Salomon once a niche alpine brand, now a crossover king. Their trail shoes are as likely to be spotted at Paris Fashion Week as they are on a mountain ridge. The XT-6 in beige, bone, or "acid lime" has become a statement piece: fashion-forward, function-approved. A badge of belonging, whether you're climbing switchbacks or sipping coffee.
Don’t believe me? If it wasn't so easily identifiable, we wouldn't have memes like this:
It's not just brands. It's the intentionality. People plan their runs the way they once planned nights out.
A Language
Every subculture has its dialect—and running is no different. It's not just technical jargon; it's how runners signal that they're in. How they connect. How they turn an individual sport into a shared culture.
Here's a peek at the runner's evolving vocabulary:
Easy run – A conversational-paced jog. Often not actually that easy.
Long run – The Sunday ritual. Anything over 10 miles and you deserve the pastry.
Tempo – A controlled but uncomfortable pace. AKA: the run that humbles you.
Threshold – That fine line between manageable and miserable. Run just below it.
Zone 2 – The mythical aerobic zone. Where gains are made and egos are tamed.
Shakeout – A short, easy run before a race. Or after a race. Or just to stay moving.
Negative split – Running the second half of your run faster than the first. Bragging rights included.
Bonk – The crash. The wall. Often around mile 20. Sometimes mental, sometimes physical.
Strides – Controlled sprint efforts added at the end of an easy run. Makes you feel like a track star for 15 seconds.
Kudos – Strava's social currency. If your run doesn't get them, did it even happen?
Segment hunting – Trying to nab the crown on a stretch of road. Equal parts sport and pettiness.
DNF – Did Not Finish. Sometimes strategic. Often survival.
Keep going – The universal mantra. Shouted mid-race, typed in DMs, whispered to yourself.
Trust the process – The sacred chant of the injured or tapering.
What's the pace? – Not really a question, more of a status check.
What shoes are those? – Translation: "Are they faster than mine?"
Rest day – The hardest run of all (not running).
Runner's high – Endorphins, euphoria, a fleeting feeling of invincibility.
The grind – The training block. The long, lonely reps. The quiet suffering.
The taper – The joyful, paranoid descent into race week madness.
Learn the terms, and suddenly you're in on the joke. Ask what they mean, and someone initiates you with a breakdown over an iced oat flat white. Language builds identity. It creates insiders. And yes, maybe a little bit of gatekeeping.
A Ritual
Modern running is deeply ritualised. The track Tuesday or Thursday tempo. The Weekend long run. The post-run beers and Strava segments.
These aren't just routines, they're rites of passage. If you skip a session, someone notices. If you hit a PB, someone celebrates. That's where the stickiness lives: in the rhythm of repetition and reward. In the micro-acknowledgements that say, we see you.
From inside, it feels like you’ve finally found someone on the same page as you but as Karlea once said to me, at Love Trails after finishing her first race and listening to a few panel talks:
"It kind of feels like a cult, doesn't it?"
She’s not wrong. There's a shared belief system. A way of dressing, speaking, showing up. It's tribal. It's weird. It’s sticky.
3. The Power of Context
“Epidemics are sensitive to the conditions and circumstances of the times and places in which they occur.” – Malcolm Gladwell
In 2020, when COVID hit, we lost gyms, studios, and social calendars. But the pavements stayed open. Running became a structured reason to get outside, an anxiety burner, a daily anchor and it was contagious, it was a bit of rebellion too when we were all locked up at home. But COVID as much as people picked up running shoes during that time was probably only one factor in the rise in running culture. There’s a generational overlay making running stick post-pandemic. We don’t still have an army of people baking Banana bread do we?
Gen Z (18–29) are driving the third great running boom. For them, running is about mental wellness, community, and inclusivity. Over 35% of marathon entrants are under 30, with a 105% increase in London Marathon applications from this age group alone. (The Standard, The Guardian)
Millennials are rediscovering themselves through running. It’s a way to fight burnout, regain autonomy, and structure their week. According to recent data, 62% of millennials run at least once a week—the highest percentage of any age group. (SportsShoes.com)
Gen X and Boomers are embracing running for longevity, structure, and post-retirement wellbeing. Many are active in parkrun, where the median age is ~40.5, and long-term participation rates remain strong across all ages. (Shura, BMC Public Health)
Why It's Resonating Now
Mental health meets movement: Gen Z often rate mental wellbeing as important as physical health a mindset shift changing how fitness is approached.
Community over competition: Brands and events now spotlight community-driven, non-elite experiences.
Event democracy: Modern races are more inclusive and varied with 5ks, hybrid runs, trail retreats, and club experiences, reducing pressure and expanding runnings appeal.
Running’s renaissance didn’t start with lockdown. It accelerated in 2023, driven by intertwined motives: mental health, fashion, community, and affordability. Survey data from Let’s Do This shows a 39% increase in participation year-on-year, with 50% of entrants aged 35 or younger, and first-time runners making up over half of participants. This is more than a post-COVID quirk. It’s a generational shift. A cultural alignment.
Because life feels fragmented, digital, and uncertain and running offers something tangible. The groundwork was laid under lockdown, but the updraft comes from generational mindset aligning with movement culture.
The Risk of Overexposure
If you study the life cycle of subcultures such as skateboarding in the late 90s, hip hop in the early 2000s, or yoga in the Lululemon era, you will notice a pattern. The moment they become too popular, they begin to flatten. They lose friction. They lose texture.
The rawness that once made the movement magnetic gets smoothed into brand strategy decks. The playlists all start to sound the same. The kits converge into uniform. The run crews start to feel like activation campaigns.
That is the paradox of popularity. The very qualities that make a subculture successful, its accessibility, its resonance, its relatability, can also render it vulnerable. The more people it tries to reach, the more it risks diluting the thing that made it matter in the first place.
Running is teetering on that edge now. And the question becomes: Can it stay weird?
Because if it can, if it protects the fringe, honours the absurd, resists the pressure to package itself too neatly, it will not just survive the boom.
It will outlast it.
So Where Are We Now?
We are, by every metric, post tip. The idea has spread. The movement has matured. But what is most interesting isn’t that running culture has simply survived. It is how it has diversified.
In sociology, we often assume that once something tips, it trends toward the centre. It becomes safer, more predictable, more commercial. It smooths its edges to accommodate the crowd.
But running has done the opposite. Instead of becoming one thing, it has become many. We are seeing the rise of subcultures within the subculture, each with its own style, rhythm, and reason for showing up.
Some run to travel. Some run to grieve. Some run to reconnect. Some run because it is the only part of their week that feels fully theirs. And maybe now, you are the outlier if you do not run.
What’s Next for Running Culture?
No one can say what’s next but we can hope. I hope it keeps spreading, so that tracks get the funding they need, that schools invest in athletics facilities that developers and urban planners think about runnability. I hope it keeps spreading into schools. Into new communities. Into lives that need it. I think it will.
Culture can be commodified. But behaviour is embodied.
Running is no longer just the culture. It is the behaviour that binds a thousand microcultures and more than three generations together, and behaviour is what sticks.