Can we pull the plug on the running? – Sqoop

I have been searching, seriously searching, for the person who invented running for fun. If there is any joy that comes from voluntarily moving your legs faster than necessary, I would like it explained to me gently, like I am a slightly confused uncle at a wedding who has missed half the programme. Because honestly, why is everyone running?

Now, running clubs are fine. Truly. There are people who wake up at 5 a.m., lace up their shoes, and jog into the sunrise like they are starring in a very inspirational advert. That’s their calling. Let them live. But running for everything? That’s where things start to feel like a national situation disguised as fitness.

Back in the day, runs and marathons felt important. Rare. Slightly dramatic. You could point at one and say, this is serious. People trained for months. Some cried. Some nearly met their ancestors. It meant something.

These days, though, we are running for both noble and slightly confusing reasons. Cancer, HIV/AIDS, fistula, schools, coffee, churches, trees. At this rate, we will soon be running for potholes and broken traffic lights.

We are running for everything. The only thing we are not running from is running itself.

Now before anyone labels me anti-health or anti-progress, let me be fair. There is a lot to appreciate about this running culture. For one, it brings people together in a way few things can. You will see bankers running next to boda riders, students pacing alongside corporate executives. For a brief moment, everyone is equal. Equally tired. Equally sweaty. Equally questioning their life decisions by kilometre three, not even seven.

These events have also done real good. They raise awareness. They spark conversations. They bring visibility to causes that might otherwise go unnoticed. Money has been raised. Hospitals supported. Communities engaged. That part matters.

And then there is the health angle, which is probably the strongest argument of all. Many of us spend our days sitting, at desks, in traffic, scrolling endlessly. Running at least forces some movement. Some people have even discovered a love for exercise through these events. Others have improved their health in ways that last far beyond race day.

So no, running is not the problem.

But must everything be a run?

Because somewhere along the way, we moved from meaningful to excessive. Every weekend now comes with a new invitation. Run for this. Run for that. Run for awareness about awareness. At this rate, we will soon have “Run to Recover from Last Weekend’s Run.”

And it is not just the frequency. It is the pressure. The year barely starts and the posters begin. WhatsApp groups light up. Emails come in. Influencers unveil race kits like they are launching the latest smartphone. There is always a countdown, always a sense that if you are not participating, you are somehow failing as a citizen, a friend, or just a decent human being.

But why the guilt?

Some of us are very willing to support the cause without sacrificing our knees. Can we donate from the comfort of our sofas, with a cup of tea in hand, and still be counted among the good people? Must support come with a bib number?

Because if we are being honest, many of these runs are not really about the running. They are about the experience. The branded kits. The selfies at the starting line. The carefully measured jog that is actually a walk. The music. And most importantly, the after-party.

Let us not lie to each other. Most of us are here for the after-party. That is where we finally break a sweat, on the dance floor, where the stakes are lower and the refreshments are much closer.

And here is another thing. Not everyone can run. Some people have injuries. Others have health conditions. Some simply do not enjoy it, and that should be perfectly acceptable. Yet the current model quietly suggests that if you are not running, you are not contributing.

That cannot be the only way.

We cannot all be running around like headless chickens, in full King Julian mode, shouting “I like to move it” while questioning our life choices at every kilometre.

Organisers, this is where you come in. The effort is appreciated. The intention is clear. But there is so much room for creativity. Not every campaign needs to be a run.

What about walks that genuinely cater for all ages? Cycling events. Community fairs. Art showcases. Storytelling sessions that bring the cause to life. Even hybrid events where some people run, others volunteer, others donate, and others simply show up and engage.

Imagine an event where someone who cannot run still feels just as important as the person crossing the finish line. Inclusivity should not be an afterthought. It should be the starting point.

And maybe we also rethink the messaging. Supporting a cause should not feel like a fitness test. It should feel like a shared effort where everyone has a role, whether they are running ten kilometres or clapping from the sidelines.

Because when everything becomes a run, the meaning starts to fade. The cause risks becoming secondary. The message gets buried under kilometres and timing chips. And eventually, people tune out. Not because they don’t care, but because they are simply tired of being asked to prove it through endurance.

So can we pull the plug on the running?

Not completely. That would be unfair. Running has its place, and for many, it is genuinely powerful.

But can we reduce the noise a little? Be more intentional? Create space for other ways to participate?

Because at the end of the day, the goal is not to build a country full of reluctant runners. The goal is to build a community that cares. One that shows up in different ways. One that contributes meaningfully, whether that involves running ten kilometres or simply writing a cheque and cheering loudly from the sidelines.

So keep your runs. Just give us options. Give us creativity. Give us inclusion.

And for the sake of our knees, give us a small break.