What is the difference between jogging and running? There are lots of ways to make the distinction—how far you run, how fast you run, why you run, how often you run, and so on ad infinitum. No, make that ad nauseum. The debates about who’s a jogger and who’s a runner are endless and fierce, but they’re also pointless. Usually, the distinction is made in a condescending way, with running taken to be superior to jogging.
Some runners like to puff themselves up by noting others’ speed and saying, “Oh, he’s just jogging.” Well, we’re all slower than someone else. The best runners in the world cover 5 kilometers (3.1 miles; the distance is also called 5K) at just a bit slower than 4:00 per mile. The best marathoners in the world run sub-5:00 miles for 26.2 miles. By their standards, I guess we’re all joggers, huh? So let’s scratch pace as what makes one person a jogger and another person a runner. Is the difference the distance run? As I said, about 400,000 Americans completed a marathon in 1996.
Bob Kennedy doesn’t run farther than 15 miles at a time in his training, but Kennedy holds the American record for 5K, which he has covered at roughly 4:10 per mile. Think any of those marathoners would call him a jogger? So maybe the difference is how often you run. That has to be good a way to know who’s serious (trumpet blasts: a runner!) and who’s just dogging it (cue the boos: a jogger). Bob Ray, of Parkville, MD, has run at least 4 miles a day, every day, since April 1968. Ed Eyestone is a Mormon and almost always takes Sunday off from running for religious purposes. Eyestone is also a two-time U.S. Olympian in the marathon. Bob Ray wouldn’t call Eyestone a jogger, and neither would anyone else. As you’ll see later in this book, it’s what you do with your days of running, not how many you can string together, that really matters.
And what about why you run? One old saw is that the difference between a jogger and a runner is an entry form. This saying was supposed to mean that by entering races, you somehow graduated from the vile level of jogger to the promised land of being a runner. I know plenty of people who faithfully put in their miles, but for a variety of reasons choose not to race.
One of my old rivals, Tom Fleming, who twice won the New York City Marathon, runs 10 miles most days at faster than 7:00 per mile. But he doesn’t care to compete anymore. Does that mean he’s now a jogger? Another distinction along these lines that I’ve heard is that joggers are in it for the exercise, runners for the sport. This distinction is just plain silly. I can no more single out the one reason that I run any more than I can name the quality that I love most about my wife. In both cases, many aspects thrill me, and each aspect plays off of all the others.
OK, so what is the difference? There isn’t any. Jogging, running—call it what you want. You’ll know when you’re doing more than walking. Why have I spent all this time making this point? Because it’s easy for beginning runners to feel that what they’re doing isn’t important. Often, the people who make them feel that way the most are veteran runners, who forget what it’s like to take those first tentative steps. Their attitude can cause a lot of beginners to feel that there’s some standard they have to measure up to. There isn’t; the only one that matters is your own satisfaction.