
One Year to 26.2: Nutrition (PART 2 – Lindsey Clark)
January 30, 2026What “Being a Runner” Actually Means (Hint: It’s Not Pace or Distance)
Ask ten non-runners what makes someone “a real runner” and you’ll probably hear answers about pace, mileage, race times, or how long someone’s been at it. Fast. Far. Consistent. Experienced.
But if you spend any amount of time around runners—especially here in Knoxville—you start to realize something pretty quickly: none of those things are what actually define us. Sure it’s great to get faster or run further, but at our core, we’re more than that.
Because in practice, being a runner has very little to do with pace or distance, and a lot to do with shared experience, community, and a stubbornness that can’t be matched.
Knoxville’s running community is a perfect example. On any given weekend, you’ll find people training for marathons alongside people run-walking their first mile. Trail runners covered in mud sharing space with road runners chasing smooth pavement. Early-morning grinders, social runners who come as much for the conversation as the miles, and solo runners who just need quiet.
Different goals. Different backgrounds. Different abilities. Same identity.
At our cores, we are tough. We are resilient. We are making the miles happen whether we feel like it that day or not. Even this ice-pocalypse hasn’t stopped us! We might have to give ourselves a pep talk or move our run indoors or even take a rest day, but in the end, it’s the heartbeat of our shoes pounding that keeps us going.
In Knoxville, we’re lucky to have trails, greenways, tracks, neighborhoods, and parks that welcome all kinds of runners. And with that comes a quiet understanding: we’re all managing life outside of running. Jobs, families, stress, injuries, changing seasons of life. Training plans don’t exist in a vacuum—they’re layered on top of everything else we’re carrying.
That’s another thing all runners have in common: adaptability.
Every runner, no matter how experienced, has had to adjust expectations. Missed runs. Modified goals. Slower seasons. Comebacks that took longer than planned. The difference isn’t that some runners avoid these things—it’s that they learn to keep going anyway.
Pace and distance are such shallow measures of what it means to belong here. They don’t capture resilience. Or curiosity. Or the willingness to try again after a tough run. They don’t capture the courage it takes to line up next to people you think are “better” than you, or the humility of starting over after time away.
Being a runner means you move your body forward on purpose. It means you’re participating in something that’s bigger than any single workout or race result. It means you’re part of a community—even if you don’t always feel like you fit the stereotype.
And maybe most importantly, being a runner means you don’t have to earn the title through speed or suffering. You earn it by doing the thing, in whatever way your body and life allow right now.
So whether you’re training for a long race, rebuilding after an injury, showing up once a week, or just figuring out where running fits into your life—you belong here. In Knoxville, in this community, and in this identity.
Because being a runner isn’t about how fast or how far.
It’s about choosing to keep showing up, together.
Stay warm out there, friends!
—bk



