The Endurance Bro era

Plus four more thoughts on sports

I woke up to an Oura ‘activity suggestion’ this morning, asking me to confirm whether or not I had spent 3 hours, 2 minutes ‘dancing’ from 8:02pm last night. I’d been to see Jamie XX. Apparently, I logged almost as many steps as I do during a marathon. I didn’t drink, but I missed dinner and barely slept; there’s a trifecta of correlation as to why I felt terrible this morning.

Today would have been a good morning to have a lie-in, but as I discuss in this week’s newsletter, I’m intolerant to those. My Oura stats have taken a beating lately. After taking my EpiPen (adrenaline shot) for a nut allergy, my biometrics have been in a crisis for about two weeks. It’s been oddly satisfying to see my stats correlate to context. If anything, now I have proof that Oura works.

Context and correlation has been on my mind this past week. I’ve done some consultancy calls with agencies, discussing what running and yoga etc might look like in a decade. Those chats are fun as a means of going down a rabbit hole, but more than anything, they brought me back into the now to think about the new green shoots. What we’re doing today shapes tomorrow, etc.

Today’s newsletter is basically a whack-a-mole-style rundown of what’s been on my mind. Often, we think it’s big brands that shape culture and mentality, but in fitness and wellness, I think just as much is down to our own behaviours and thought processes. Some trends can’t be predicted on those consultancy calls.

What also couldn’t be predicted is how much fun I’d have with my new image-making app — hope you enjoy my silly collages, which I think perfectly illustrate the trends, as much as I enjoyed making them.

1. Why are so many men running across countries?

You only need to look at Instagram to know we’re in an “endurance bro” era. Buff, biceped guys are trying to break records, being the first man or the fastest man to do whatever it is that they’re doing. The Guinness World Records is fashionable again. Who’d have predicted that?

I’m interested in why this is happening, and the rationale behind deciding to run for five days on end. This is becoming such a ‘thing’ that Huel announced a £100k adventurers prize fund in April. It will be split between 3 winners and encourages this kind of insane, pavement-pounding adventure. It’s an example of consumers shaping culture — not brands.

Many of these guys (pictured, from Instagram) raise money for charity. But there are easier ways to fundraise than running across Australia, or the UK, or America, Greece, or Africa. It’s tied up with grit, and status; efforts are made in the kitchen and the gym kinda vibe. Brands like Represent 247, Cadence, Gymshark, Puresport occasionally come on board to support with kit and fuel; there’s lots of six packs on show. The overriding message seems to be “progress.” It’s a complicated time to be a man in popular culture today. No doubt that plays a part. Maybe men are lost and they’re running towards meaning.

Are guys deriving personal value from the intensity of these exercises? The trend is obviously layered with social media status and a smart, fast way to build a lot of followers very fast. William Goodge, the fastest man to run across Australia (34 days), has 256k followers on Instagram. The endurance bro has created a bro-coded method of social approval. Some people could write the whole thing off as a pure ego trip—lots of the content focuses on calories in and out. (Men love data!) But it takes guts to run for five days on end, so it’s maybe an unfair assessment. Still, I’m here wondering whether other guys find it inspiring and motivating or whether it makes them feel inadequate.

They could be making strides in pursuit of personal growth. Men, and I’m generalising, can struggle to articulate their feelings, especially to other men. It’s important to have these dialogues. I do think the daily feed content is a missed opportunity to engage with that — to give other guys the permission to be vulnerable online. But perhaps the whole thing is not that deep, and is simply an opportunity to see the world on foot and get very ripped, very fast.

I have yet to see a woman run solo across a country that isn’t part of an organised event. Which is strange, because it’s obviously an incredible experience and I’m sure women would want to do it, given the chance. I certainly would. I could also promise a more interesting daily rundown than the calories I’d burned and what I’d eaten that day.

2. Does a “lie-in” give you the ick?

I should caveat this entry with the declaration that I am a morning person. I didn’t need my Oura to validate it, but it does, so now it’s gospel.

A couple of weeks ago, I took part in a panel for Protein Studios about whether we’d reached peak wellness. It was a really interesting chat, and one of the questions that John, the moderator and a good friend of mine, asked me was whether sitting down doing nothing would be considered wellness.

It made me pause. Framed as intentional meditation, obviously yes. Framed as mindlessness, not really. Why is that? Because no company can sell you anything for that. There’s no add-on purchase to encourage the art of simply doing nothing. And wellness is a $6.3 trillion industry. It’s built on us buying stuff to better ourselves.

I’ve been thinking about other wellness contradictions. We’re becoming obsessed with sleep, but it’s all focused on early nights and early mornings. I have night owl friends who berate themselves for not being able to get up early, despite the fact they regularly get eight hours. (I average 7 at best.) I spend money on magnesium and ashwaganda and Oura and pillow sprays; I even booked into the Ned after Emily Sundberg from Feed Me (one of my favourite Substacks) said it had the best blackout curtains ever. But when I’m sleeping alone, I can’t have a lie in. It feels lazy and I give myself the ick. It’s a dumb logic, because I know my body (and my recovery, and therefore my training) would benefit from it. Only me… or?

3. Can you run a marathon in a skirt?

In running, as in life, we can get bored of what we wear or do on repeat. I’m at that point with my sports kit. I spend so much time in it that getting dressed is becoming Groundhog Day.

I want freshness! I love the idea of a little running skirt or dress — something that has a bit of movement, with texture, and a cool alternative to the stereotypical outfit. Everyone shows up to race day wearing the same slick black look with compression sleeves, to the point that it’s become a meme… so what’s next?

For whatever reason, running dresses don’t really exist yet. I have a specific idea as to what it should be. Similar to an A-line tennis dress, except lighter, with a built-in bra that’s supportive enough to withstand distance running, enough pockets to store everything, and a fabric that won’t get in the way. The waist has to be fully fitted to allow for a storage belt, too. And it needs to have a shorts liner with pockets that you can easily pull down for the bathroom.

Lululemon’s Align dresses are cute for general workouts and everyday life but I don’t think I could run in that; the fabric is thick so it would show sweat, and I’m not sure the bra is supportive enough. Free People Movement also does dresses for the gym/padel but they’re too girlcore for me. Most tennis dresses are a bit too swishy… too much fabric in the pleats that would make it heavy. It could also look weird with super shoes. I saw a very cool spray-paint tennis co-ord from On, with a crop top and a skirt… but I have no idea if it’s suitable to run that far in.

But it got me thinking… who decided the rules of aesthetics in sport, and why have they not really been updated? Everything else has become hybrid, but running defaults to shorts and tennis defaults to dresses. Brands have updated the design of running kit, but still, it’s all shorts.

Do running dresses or skirts not really exist because they’re actually impractical, especially for endurance… or do they not exist because very few brands have thought about making them? Bandit literally just released a perfect one, except for the fact it’s black. It sold out already, which proves other women also want a running dress. I would love it in a colour asap.

Dresses are more practical than a “runsie”, which is becoming popular but which are a nightmare to go to the bathroom in. Plus, pinning an enormous (man-sized) marathon bib to the skirt would be a lot easier than folding it up to fit it onto shorts. I had fun playing a Cher from Clueless-style dress-up in my collage this week. Let me know if you think I’m onto something.

4. The running resale market

Did you know that there are websites in Japan where you can basically hire a middleman to shop for you and ship it outside the country? I discovered this via my friend Sam recently, who put me onto buyer.jp after I’d finally tracked down this elusive, archive District Vision x New Balance red running onesie on a Japanese outlet. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time on Google searching for it, because I didn’t buy it at full price then missed it on sale. It’s haunted me ever since.

Anyway. Buyee unfortunately couldn’t fulfil my order because of New Balance’s shipping rules, but I did manage, via google translate, to ship it to someone I do know in Tokyo! He’ll bring it to London in July. Delayed gratification and all that.

All this got me thinking more broadly about running resale and the lengths we will go to for specific pieces of kit. I have a friend who overpaid for a second-hand District Vision white windbreaker; I have another friend currently bargaining with a seller of a worn Satisfy x Our Legacy tee — the guy wants more money for it than it was at full price. I have overpaid for shoes before, and many sellers are wildly inflating the prices of Nike Alphafly. I recently discovered there’s an entire Reddit thread dedicated to reselling Bandit, where people regularly post WTB (want to buy) as much, if not more, than WTS (want to sell). Marathon and half marathon bib tickets are also as sought-after and touted as Beyoncé tickets. I’m predicting a new dedicated app for sports resale.

5. Nike Air-Rift… in the gym

I got a message on Instagram the other day from a woman in France asking if I was legitimately working out in my Nike Air Rift — the gorp core Mary Jane shoe with a Tabi-shaped toe. Yes! I replied.

I’d posted a photo of my foot with a 10kg weight, half joking to myself about whether I’d be able to pick it up between my toes, like those memes you see when people are serving cigarettes and wine glasses from their feet. I doubt Hyrox champion and all-round goat Jake Dearden (pictured, via instagram) would find Tabi’s fit for purpose for his level of excellence, but alas.

My gym ability is obviously not intense, so I’ve taken to wearing my Air Rifts to do my weights routines quite a bit recently, more because they’re super comfortable and flexible enough for single leg squats. And crucially, if I wear those for my day and then plan to workout in them, I don’t have to pack a spare change of shoes. If I am packing shoes, the Air Rifts take up less space in my bag than my RAD gym shoes, and they’re lighter.

There’s nothing more that I hate than packing spare shoes. It got me thinking about the versatility and hybridity of footwear. If I’m heading out all day but needing to run during, I’ll wear my District Vision x New Balance because they’re all black and look quite slick. But I can’t also do a functional fitness class or squats in those because the sole is too chunky.

If spare shoes are a no-go, I’ll workout in my socks instead. I pack grippy pilates ones so I can use the various weights machines and do floor work without slipping too much. A tip: don’t wear white ones, as gym floors are disgustingly dirty.

There’s a gap for shoes that can do-it-all. But they need to look less like a sports shoe, and more like a cool shoe you can wear normally, but which you can both run and gym in, too. This is possibly where we’ll start to see a resurgence of the Vibram barefoot and low-profile shoes, as no matter how hard you try, you just cannot do a burpee or a squat in a pair of chunky Hoka’s. You can, however, wear a Vibram with a trench coat and, if you train your legs, you can run in them too. Aesthetically (and anatomically) I’m not at a Five Finger yet… but functionality is my main MO, so never say never.

Thoughts? Leave a note in the comments, or email me – saltysubstack@gmail.com