Unpaid excellence

From San Francisco's trails to London's parks and Copenhagen's streets, competitive amateur runners write their own rules in pursuit of fast times. They’re guided by grit, community and an attitude to racing that goes beyond the social run club boom.

Cover image: Marc Iverson

It’s 1979 in San Francisco. Two women set out to do what was unprecedented at the time: racing sub-three-hour marathons. No history in the sport. No opportunity in college to race, let alone train. But Sue Johnston and Karen Scannell didn’t just achieve their mission at 38 and 40 years old, they wanted to inspire more women to join them. How? By taping flyers in the women’s restrooms at Golden Gate Park.

“This was Impala Racing Team’s first social media posting,” jokes longstanding member Nelda Williams, the team’s former president.

They started so long ago, there was no Instagram or even area codes. Over 90 of their current members weren’t born yet. From humble beginnings, Impala Racing Team has steadily grown in size and ambition. More than 700 women have passed through the team, where members must meet qualifying standards and pay dues to join. Today, Impala boasts over 160 women who dominate the Pacific Association scene, training for races ranging from 5Ks to 100Ks, cross country to track, and mountain races to marathons. Since women were first included in the US Olympic Trials in 1984, there has never been a Trials without at least one Impala – a legacy the team is especially proud of.

Across the world, competitive running clubs with sub-elite athletes take on various forms. Hot Boys Athletics, another women’s-only group, is also filled with amateurs breaking three hours in the World Marathon Majors. But unlike Impala’s structured training, this London-based club takes an intuitive, “feel-based” approach. “The splits take care of themselves,” says Kimiko Ninomiya, who founded the club in 2022. “It’s about doing the most you can do on that day. It won’t always be the same, and you can push yourself beyond what you think.”

When Ninomiya first moved to London two years ago, she missed the community she left behind in New York City, specifically with the Black Roses collective. She struggled to find a tight-knit performance-based club that wasn’t part of the heritage UK clubs that “take themselves so seriously”. As she puts it, “Social run clubs were a great way to meet friends but weren’t ideal for finding reliable training partners.” Ninomiya craved a training group in between. After training solo for the 2021 Boston Marathon – and in the wake of Sarah Everard’s murder (Everard was abducted and murdered by an off-duty police officer) – she was inspired to create her own group. A safe space for women to train competitively in London. “Not that it didn’t exist, but it felt like the right thing to do,” she says. Ninomiya had an instinct that if she felt something was missing, others likely did too.

As the saying goes, “If you build it, they will come.” Hot Boys, an extension of Knox Robinson’s Black Roses and Capri Collective, now has over 35 members from all over the world. Most are in their 20s and 30s, many cracking three hours – with some even hitting sub-2:50 – at major marathons. “Not everyone’s done it, but everyone’s pushing toward that goal,” says Ninomiya. Hot Boys isn’t exclusive based on times; the only requirement is to show up to Victoria Park and run hard. They host two weekly sessions: a Wednesday evening track workout and a Friday tempo or intervals.

“With our sessions, we stick together through the reps and reset between them so no one feels left behind,” Ninomiya explains. “We also focus on how you’re feeling through training – women’s training is different … men don't have cycles … so we adjust our expectations accordingly. That’s a big reason why the group has been so successful.”

The women have grown so close that many meet up for recovery runs before work, a bond that goes beyond tough sessions. “Some of these women have fallen out of love with the sport, or are falling in love again, rediscovering fun,” she says. “We’re not about scaling, we’re about maintaining the integrity of the group.”

About 1,300 kilometres (800 miles) north of Hot Boys’ outpost in East London lies NBRO, based in Copenhagen and known for its “run hard, party harder” culture. Founded in 2010 by Karl-Oskar Olsen aka TKO, co-founder of premium cycling brand Pas Normal and fashion label Wood Wood, this club values style as much as speed. The name “NBRO” pays homage to Nørrebro, the vibrant neighborhood in Copenhagen where it all began.

“NBRO made it cool and hip to be a runner,” says Thomas Hoperdese, a core member of the team since 2018. “They took running from just exercise and combined it with style, fashion, partying and being competitive. We were some of the first to make it a real lifestyle.” NBRO has no rules, no coach and no formal commitment. Members show up to train on their own free will, but in order to fit in, they’re expected to bring the same energy to running as they do to post-race parties and charity events. “If you can’t race, you pace; if you can’t run, you cheer,” says Hoperdese.

Every year at the Copenhagen Half or Marathon, NBRO throws post-race parties and invites other running communities to join in. “We’re friends with clubs all over the world, and we party and share meals together, and help with accommodation,” says Hopederse. “They do the same with us when we’re in town.” This past September, during the Copenhagen Half, 12 NBRO athletes finished in under 1:20, but they celebrated with all competitors. “Good friends have no problem pushing each other to the limit and still share one or two, or 200, beers afterwards,” he jokes.

Culture – specifically this kind of irrational grit – might be the last thing that can’t be bought by sponsors. “It used to be only top-level athletes that brands looked to sponsor, but now they’re realising the community is where you get a lot of impact, because we're the ones buying all the gear,” says Ninomiya. The Hot Boys leader also sees value in brands using their budget to bring people together around shared ideas and causes–not just focusing on products. For instance, one team member, Florence Papougnot, ran her first 100K, her first ultra ever, raising nearly £3,000 for Parkinson’s UK and ultimately landing on the podium. It’s only a matter of time before brands and sponsors fully recognise the impact that community-driven teams can have.

Impala also prioritises giving back – they inspire their communities through charity and mentorship, as much as they compete. They regularly contribute money to Bay Area chapters of Girls on the Run and Back on My Feet.

Perhaps because club teams are not tied to sponsors, they have more freedom than professional teams to elevate goals like philanthropy and inclusivity. Ninomiya takes pride in leading an all-women’s team, fostering a culture at Hot Boys that creates a dynamic for women to be supported, but also challenged. While the latest pair of sneakers or gorp-gear can get an athlete far, a sense of belonging is essential for lacing up day after day. If “we are what we repeatedly do”, like Aristotle says, then feeling welcomed is crucial to make “excellence not just an act but a habit.”

For Danish designer Julie Hyld, running goes beyond speed or distance. Much like the culture of skateboarding or snowboarding, style and expression are key to performance, and that’s what she discovered when she first joined NBRO. “[The start of NBRO] was a golden era for running culture,” says Hyld, founder of the creative studio Hyld Studio. “While incredible things are still happening now, that time shaped everyone’s understanding of how running, culture, and community can come together.”

Hyld draws inspiration from her own run club experiences to create campaigns for the biggest brands in the sports industry, including Nike, Adidas, Hoka and Salomon. “I use running in everything I do with my work. I take what drives me and what fascinates me when I run into work and go with those feelings. I’m not sure where I’d be, or doing what I do today if I hadn’t joined [NBRO] back then.”

There’s a shared sense of camaraderie for these athletes across all ages and backgrounds. Impala includes everyone from former NCAA athletes fresh out of college to 15 women in their 70s and two in their 80s – and everyone toes the line. “Even though we’re aging and not as fast anymore, my age group still shows up and we compete just as hard as the 20- and 30-year-olds,” says Williams, who joined the team in her early 30s. Now she’s almost 76. “You are all celebrated and welcomed and important to the team.” Williams describes her health and happiness as the “the Impala effect”. When she gets her blood pressure checked, her doctors ask her “what kind of athlete are you?” She’s certain it’s from Impala: “It changes everything,” she says.

She makes it clear Impala members have ambitious racing goals. Longstanding member Diana Fitzpatrick, who is also president of the Western States Endurance Run Board, has outright won the Dipsea trail race in Marin County, California, finishing faster than the men, albeit in a race with starts staggered by gender and age. Theresa McWalters has qualified for the Olympic Marathon Trials four times, while Lisbet Sunshine has done so five times. Within that time frame, Sunshine had children and returned to racing even faster. “They’re all stunning – very consistent and tough,” says Williams.

Many Hot Boys athletes have also achieved significant success. Papougnot ran a personal best of 2:49 in the 2024 London Marathon. She wrote on Instagram, “Today, you run with the energy of your teammates on the course and many more on the sidelines.” She attributes her improvements to the Hot Boys training model, which has a loose structure that doesn’t focus on hitting specific times or splits. She told Raziq Rauf’s Substack last July: “I'm running on the track without knowing what time I’m doing – just running hard or at 80%. I love chasing that enjoyment.”

For Ninomiya, enjoyment comes from focusing on the team. “There’s a lot less focus on myself,” she says. “It’s more fulfilling to see a group of people experience huge growth and progression through a training block.” But she still has her own goals: “I thought what was possible for me, was less than what actually ended up happening.” Last spring, Ninomiya ran 2:59 in the London Marathon, almost a four-minute PR. “That’s great, but now I want to get better,” she says. “I am leading the group, and there’s a lot of responsibility on my shoulders, but women know shit doesn't just happen. Everyone pitches in and offers to help.”

Perhaps the hyphen in “sub-elite” is not merely a modifier but integral to understanding this type of athlete. Consider the doctor-distance runner. Waking up before the sun to grind out a track session, then clocking in to the profession they’re paid to do. Or the team captain-competitive monster. Eager to build a community against breaking their own records. The mum/mom-marathoner. Desiring to care for her newborn as much as she longs for solitude to hammer a long run. This hyphenation, this tension, embodies the ambitious amateur. While the “sub-elite” may have divided priorities, they can also be viewed as a marriage of them. Nothing about sub-elite running is casual, yet no one is forcing these athletes to compete. They willingly choose to train alongside life’s other demands. Amateur excellence contains multitudes: the heart of sub-elite culture.

But it’s also okay when the community can be fatiguing too. “A few years ago, I stepped back from [NBRO] because I started to feel drained by the social aspect of running,” says Hyld. “NBRO helped me fall in love with running and introduced me to some of my best friends. But constantly socialising with new runners eventually became overwhelming. When I felt my energy fading, I decided to take a break. These days, I’m more motivated by personal growth from sport.” [IMAGE 12]

Competitive running culture isn’t confined to specific cities or communities – it stretches across a global network. All of these athletes do this for the (type two) fun, they’re not paid to be here. Maybe they’d have different priorities if they were representing their country in the Olympics or world championships or as members of a branded team. But for these clubs, when race day comes, the choice is freely theirs – and that's what sets them apart.

When Papougnot has visited a new city for a race, she’ll often accept offers for a running tour from local run clubs. There’s a lot of support across teams, making the world smaller, while expanding this international running community. But it’s not just about making new friends – it’s about representation too. “You can believe it when you see it,” says Papougnot to Rauf about Hot Boys all-women’s collective at races. “Making noise within what is traditionally a super male-dominated space, and showing that power has been really important.”