When I moved to Kelowna seven years ago, I went out for a run with the club I had recently joined. There were just a few of us out that December morning—it was the holiday week run, added to the schedule for those who had extra free time over the break. The pace was relaxed and easy. I fell into conversation with another runner. He had moved to town a few months earlier, and we talked about our house searches and making the adjustment to new lives. I shared my fears about my first marathon, looming on the spring race horizon, and I asked him if he liked to race. He said he did, and when I asked him what his favourite distance was, he said, “5 km.”
It turns out that my running companion that day was David Guss, named Canadian Masters Athlete of the Year in 2019. That year he set two new records in the M55 division, including one for the 5 km distance. On that wintery day late in 2017, David would have been running a pace that, for him, must have felt like a crawl. But if the pace got on his nerves, it never showed. Nor did he mention any of his achievements or ambitions. Instead, he made time for someone trying to find her running feet in a new place. He made me feel welcome.
Ours is not a “no drop” running club, and most of the people I run with have paces and distances they want to hit as they advance their training programs. And I’ve heard plenty of stories from folks in other places about showing up for the first time to a run club, only to feel unwelcome or intimidated. Which raises the question, for me: What does it take to build community when all of us have a plan of our own?
The answer came to me when I talked it over with pals on my long run last week. Community never happens accidentally. It happens because people take time to notice the newcomers, to answer, with care, emails they might send, to find out about their goals and their history. It happens because someone makes sure the newbies have running partners when they’re trying out the club for fit, and because someone makes sure they’re invited to stay for coffee afterward.
I say “someone” because it could be anyone in the club, not just the members of the leadership team. Indeed, to welcome others is, in any circumstance, a collective responsibility. But that means that we all need to remind ourselves to reach out to the newcomer, not hope that someone else will do the work. And, for runners, it means that we should each slow down, once in a while, and put someone else ahead of checking the time on our watches.
