Raziq Rauf will tell you he’s a writer first and a runner second (though he admits it’s a close second). Before he started logging serious miles, he was a music journalist covering albums and concerts for the likes of The BBC, Kerrang!, and Classic Rock, forming his belief that the story behind the art is always more interesting than the art itself.
Then, in 2007, Rauf rediscovered his love of running and reoriented his creative career entirely. Running became the art, and he became obsessed with the “why” behind the sport—in particular, why are so many people attracted to an activity that’s notoriously uncomfortable, a sport that, by his own admission, “kind of sucks?”
It’s a question that feels especially topical in this moment, as run clubs reshape urban social life, technology transforms how we train, and more people than ever are identifying as runners. To dig deeper, we invited Rauf for a chat.
Below, read our conversation on all things running culture, his unique coaching mentality, and the “hidden figures” worth paying attention to right now.
Your own Substack is called Running Sucks, but you’ve dedicated years of your life to the sport. What does that tension actually feel like from the inside?
Embracing discomfort is essential. We all accept and understand “feeling the burn” during weight training and “powering through” during a 400m sprint. Why would long-distance running be any different?
I think it’s a pretty universal truth that runners are always trying to improve. And purely from a coaching standpoint, training adaptations occur in response to training stimuli. You need to add a little bit of pressure if you want your body to change for the better. Getting out of your comfort zone and adding that pressure usually sucks at least a little bit. The results, however, are always worth it. Ultimately, for me, it’s just the beginning of the sentence: Running sucks...but I love it.
You came up as a music journalist writing for the BBC, Kerrang!, and Classic Rock before pivoting to running. What did covering music teach you about covering a sport?
The music industry is where I learned that I like learning about the people behind the subject as much as the subject itself. I love music—it’s still a major passion in my life—but reviewing records or concerts never really sat well with me. Judging someone’s creative output seemed rude, even. Understanding the reasons why and how an artist creates their art was the aspect I found far more fulfilling.
We’re all just trying to understand how we fit into the universe, and learning about other people’s journeys is such a fun way to get there. The way musicians engage with their art and their peers is the fabric of music culture, and it’s exactly the same for runners. I love listening to the stories about what motivates people to run, because those reasons are often unexpected and worthy of celebration.
You’ve said you identify as a writer first and a runner second. How does that hierarchy shape the way you move?
I’ve been a professional writer since I was a teenager and qualified as a journalist after completing my master’s degree. I’ve never competed professionally as a runner, in the same way I’ve never been in a heavy metal band, but I’ve had a decent career covering some of the best in the business. That’s why I say I’m a writer first and a runner second, even if it’s a close second.
Through my recent writing process, I’ve been thinking more deeply about my running, and that’s actually informed how I run, rather than the other way around. It’s quite easy to get stuck in a rut when you have a routine running practice, so sitting with my own reasons for running—or not running—has helped me enjoy it more deeply.
Your book This Is Running weaves together personal storytelling, reporting, and running culture. What inspired you to write it, and what did you hope readers would take away from it?
The book is a snapshot of running culture in the 21st century and somewhat of a memoir, since that’s the period in which I’ve been running. The sport has changed enormously over the past 25 years, and so has the world. The digital revolution has made everything move faster than ever before, and with it has come a real hunger to understand where we fit in. With more people identifying as runners today than ever before, I hope This Is Running can help them make a little more sense of the landscape and themselves.
You’re a USATF-certified running coach, but you’ve also said you have zero interest in racing a marathon yourself. How do you hold space for athletes chasing goals you’re personally not drawn to?
I’ve always been more attracted to middle-distance running. I use running as utility, for physical and mental health, and I’ve never run a marathon. It’s never been on my bucket list, I don’t envy marathoners, and proving that I can run that distance isn’t something I need to do. When I started joining my local run club for their long runs, I ended up in their marathon training program almost by accident, but I wasn’t really enjoying it. Writing about that, and exploring what kind of running matters to me, was the part of the experience I valued.
The most important part of coaching is placing the person first. Just as I don’t enjoy how I feel after a 15-mile training run as much as I do after a 5-miler, I know that for someone else it’s the other way around. Everyone’s goals are different, whether that involves a marathon, a triathlon, or whatever fits into their lives. Finding out what a runner is aiming for is one of the most fun parts of building a training regimen.
That said, there’s another critical side to coaching, which is pure theory. Whether it’s the incremental increase of weekly mileage, nutritional requirements, or calculating lactate threshold to maximize training. It’s just science, and it’s not about me. I find real joy in helping someone else achieve their goals.
You’ve written about running crews and clubs as one of the biggest shifts in the sport over the past decade. What do you think the rise of run clubs says about what people are actually looking for when they lace up?
People are looking for human connection, and I think it’s as simple as that. In a time when nightlife is becoming too expensive for many, and other social spaces are becoming inaccessible or disappearing altogether, a free, regularly scheduled event that also makes you healthier is an easy thing to say yes to.
The mental health benefits of running have also been incredibly well documented, at a time when talking about mental health has become normalized. There are few things better for a brain boost than running with your friends.
Super shoes, performance optimization—you’re clearly interested in the relationship between sport and spectacle. Where do you think that line is, and has technology made running more or less interesting to watch?
I love watching sports. Watching athletes compete is my favorite version of reality TV, though I think the line between sport and spectacle is different for everyone. Running is rooted in competition, but as soon as there are spectators, entertainment enters the equation.
Technology has genuinely changed the sport. We can measure carbs and electrolytes with incredible precision now, which has transformed marathon racing. Finish-line technology has changed how photo finishes are handled. But I don’t think tech makes the sport better or worse.
You’ve compared running to skateboarding as culture. You said skateboarding is still “so f*ing cool” in a way running hasn’t fully cracked. Say more.
Running is cool; we just look less cool while doing it. Skaters look cool because they perform their sport in streetwear, so the transition from skating to the rest of their day is seamless. That’s a little more difficult when you’re wearing silly “fast” sunglasses and skimpy little singlets—neither of which look inherently cool at lunch. Then again, I run before breakfast, so I’ve already changed, showered, and finished my work for the day by the time lunch rolls around. I’ll eat my words when 3-inch split shorts are adopted by mainstream fashion. And only then!
You’ve built Running Sucks around “hidden figures” rather than those stars we typically see in the spotlight. Who’s someone in the running world right now that nobody’s paying enough attention to, and why do they matter?
When I find them, I write about them, so take a look at Running Sucks ;) I think it’s too difficult to highlight a single person, but a few names spring to mind:
Sarah Ackland brings brilliant, important perspectives to running through cities as a woman with her project Taking Space.
Vivek Gowri is the first South Asian owner of a running store in the USA. San Francisco Running Company is at the heart of NorCal’s trail running scene.
Mike Saes, the godfather of the modern running crew scene, should be a superstar household name. Go run with Bridgerunners in NYC.
Running is having a real cultural moment. From footwear innovation and wearable technology to run clubs and social communities, what trends and gear are you most excited to see shaping the future of the sport?
It’s already started happening. As the current crop of brand-new runners graduate to being seasoned runners, we’ll see the culture shift again. Fresh perspectives will move the needle on how we do things: how we train, dress, eat, what tech we use, who we run with—everything. It reflects wider society as much as it reflects how our growing subculture reacts and evolves.
What running “is” has been different every year that I’ve been running, and I love that. I can’t wait to experience the next 25 years of this glorious sport.
About Raziq Rauf
Raziq Rauf is a writer and USATF-certified coach. Before turning his attention to running, he spent years covering music for The BBC, Kerrang!, and Classic Rock. He is the founder of Running Sucks on Substack, where he spotlights the underground voices shaping the sport, and the author of This Is Running, a cultural snapshot of running in the 21st century. Right now, you’ll find him logging miles in his beloved pair of Brooks Glycerin Flex.
very excellent stuff
Ya know there's a PhD to be had in what you say re writing about music. Defo.
Our king