Bright and early last Monday morning, I decide to start off the week on the right foot and go for a run. It’s sunny, the birds are singing and I’m getting into quite a good pace, striding along. I’m aiming for a 5k, and about 15 minutes in, I check my phone to see how far I’ve gone –
But the unthinkable had happened. I’d forgotten to start my Strava.
I’m a little ashamed to admit that the first thought going through my head was: “Well, great. This wasn’t worth it then.” For the last few weeks, I’d been aiming for 20km a week, which then comes up on my profile in a nice little graph of kilometres per week, and disappointingly, knowing that this little sprinkle of kilometres wasn’t going to be included, did somewhat ruin my mood. I ran for a couple of minutes more, but feeling downhearted, I definitely didn’t reach my 5km goal.
So what has my running hobby come to, if it’s mainly just to see my stats at the end? It’s the ‘if a tree falls in a forest’ mentality, but rather ‘did a run even happen if I didn’t record it?’ My friends and I regularly joke that we just run to put it on Strava, but is this joke becoming somewhat a reality? Has it gone too far for me?
Another hilarious phenomenon I’ve noticed fellow users partaking in is feeling the need to give some kind of explanation or excuse for a run being a slower pace, or a shorter distance than usual. Anything from the classic ‘easy Run’, to blaming the heat, or the rain, or the wind, or even the watch for dying. It’s anything to not lose face in front of their 20 followers, none of whom will be giving others’ pace a second thought, but each will be equally as eager to provide any reason for not being up to scratch – other than atrocious concept of ‘today I found it hard’ or ‘I didn’t want to put effort in’. We have to give these runners credit for their creativity really.
There are certainly some undeniable benefits to this exercise-tracking app. You can set yourself goals and see your progress. Even if motivation to move comes solely from wanting to show off to others about what you’ve done, it’s movement and exercise, nonetheless. Being able to see the runs, swims, hikes, and bike rides that my friends and family have been on inspires me to do the same, and like with most things, having a community of people to support and encourage you, motivates you to continue.
Even though I’ve just complained about the excuses people make, for my less-communicative friends, I learn more about their lives from reading the one- or two-line descriptions of their activities, than I ever would from sending them a message.
Aside from using this app, running is a hobby that has allowed me to build deeper connections – whether it’s been the friendships I’ve developed from attending weekly Parkrun, or the people with whom I struggled to the finish line in my first ever trail race. Pushing ourselves, and achieving our goals together, has, without a doubt, solidified our friendships. To argue on behalf of Strava, this is just an extension of that community, the virtual version of cheering your friends on at the finish line.
But what is frustrating, is that I should be able cheer myself on, without friends at the finish line – virtual or not. The dopamine should come from the act of running itself. This issue is by no means limited to Strava. Whether it’s kudos or likes, falling victim to the need for external validation seems to be a common issue for our technology-raised generation.
To be honest with you, dear reader, after careful consideration, I don’t think I will be deleting Strava. I like the motivation it gives me too much, and I enjoy this way to connect with my friends and family. It’s probably my healthiest form of social media. If I’m going to be addicted to any app on my phone, there are worse options than one that also encourages me stay active.
