Who leads, who sets the pace, who fakes needing the loo when it gets too fast
Running groups: a beautiful blend of friendship, discipline, and low level psychological warfare. On the surface, it’s just a few people going for a jog. Underneath? It’s Game of Thrones in high-vis.
No one says it out loud. But every group run follows a silent social code, a delicate dance of positioning, pacing, and pretending you’re not dying.
Here’s your guide to the unspoken rules of the running group hierarchy. Study them. Obey them. Or risk being left behind at the first uphill.
1. The Natural Leader
This person didn’t ask to lead. They just… do.
They’re always at the front. Always know the route. Never seem to check their watch. You look at them and think, “How are they not even breathing yet?”
They’ll throw out comments like,
- “Nice and steady today, yeah?”
- “Let’s take the long loop.”
- “We’ll regroup at the lights.”
Nobody elected them. They just radiate authority in a €200 gilet.
Position: Front and slightly off centre
Power move: Pretending they didn’t notice the rest of you quietly dying
2. The Pacer (and Passive Aggressive Metronome)
Not the official leader, but they’re the one everyone checks when it feels fast. They stare at their watch like it owes them money, and will absolutely say things like “We’re a bit hot on pace, lads” while barely breaking a sweat.
They are the group’s conscience. And they will make you feel guilty for running too hard on an easy day.
Position: Just behind the leader, arms relaxed, pace unnervingly smooth
Power move: Subtle disapproval through Garmin glances and slight sighs
3. The Floater
This one drifts. Middle of the pack, sometimes chatting, sometimes silent. Never quite in charge, never quite off the back. They’re just there. Floating. Waiting.
Sometimes they surge. Sometimes they lag. But they never commit to either. They exist in the grey area of group dynamics, like a running ghost with commitment issues.
Position: Wherever the emotional wind takes them
Power move: Claiming they’re doing their “own session” mid run
4. The Fader
Starts strong. Full of chat. Laughing. Energetic.
By kilometre five: silence.
By kilometre seven: grimacing.
By kilometre eight: “I think I might need the loo” (they don’t).
They ease off with an “youse go on ahead”, and jog the rest alone, cursing the porridge they had for breakfast and regretting every single decision that led to this moment.
Position: Steadily falling backward
Power move: Sudden and dramatic disappearance at the water fountain
5. The Over-Talker
Brings podcast energy to every run. Has a story for every kilometre. Can discuss everything from shin splints to Brexit while running up a hill.
You could be on your knees, gasping, and they’ll still be mid anecdote about their dog’s digestive issues.
They never seem to tire. You consider faking a phone call just for a moment’s peace.
Position: Somewhere in the middle, where conversation is easiest
Power move: Telling long stories with a punchline that never lands
6. The Wildcard
Never shows up on time. Sometimes runs in jeans. Did a marathon once without training. Might be the fittest or the least fit, no one knows.
They’ll sprint ahead randomly, then fall back for ten minutes to pet a dog. They bring chaos and energy in equal measure. No one understands them, but we all love them.
Position: Everywhere and nowhere
Power move: Turning up 10 minutes late and casually running a PB
7. The Back Marker (aka The Silent Sufferer)
Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t talk. Just quietly dies at the back.
They never ask for the pace to ease. They just soldier on, one jelly baby away from collapse. Occasionally the leader remembers they exist and shouts “We’ll regroup at the top!”
They nod. They keep moving. And afterwards, they’ll say “Great run!” like it didn’t nearly break them.
Position: Back. Always.
Power move: Surviving on spite alone
Final Word
Running groups are a delicate social ecosystem. There are leaders and followers. Talkers and ghosts. Overachievers and secret strugglers. No one ever says the rules out loud, but everyone follows them.
So next time you're in a group and someone surges to the front, just know: you're witnessing a power play as old as time.
And if you suddenly find yourself "needing the loo" mid run… you’re not alone. We’ve all been there.
