UNSANCTIONED RACES
A growing number of free-thinking event organisers are ripping up the rule book to redefine what a running ‘race’ can look like. And it’s quite a ride, finds David Smyth
It’s early evening in the asement of a running tore in east London, and ome of the fastest people n Britain have no idea hat they’re doing.
The room beneath running apparel company Soar’s Shoreditch shop is stuffed with about 100 lean men and women from venerable clubs and cool new crews alike, none of them entirely sure what will be asked of them just before 7pm. There’s Andy Heyes, a Team GB runner with a 1:04 half marathon time;
Jonathan Escalante-Phillips, who can knock out a 5K in under 14 minutes; and Highgate Harriers’ Jacob Allen, who will later come second in the Great South Run.
They queue down narrow stairs to give their names to a man in a cap at a laptop. He’s Luke Myers, and in return, he hands out an envelope with a race number, a QR code and blank piece of cardboard, about the size of a bank card. Myers and two friends began Unsanctioned Athletics in 2022 and staged the first race last January. This is the sixth one: the first in London, the biggest so far.
We’re not allowed to scan the QR code yet so spend the next half-hour gawping at all the speedy-looking young people and speculating. Among the long-established clubs, Highgate Harriers are well represented in their black and white stripes dating from the 1880s, as are the Mornington Chasers and Clapham Chasers. The newer crews have jazzier shirts and more esoteric names, such as Coopah, Your Friendly Runners, Candy Racing and Embankment Run Club, which is the group Myers started in Nottingham in 2021. I meet a Gorp Girl, which stands for ‘good old raisins and peanuts’. There are a lot of Hot Boys, a women’s running collective, too.
Izzy Gelder, a 22-year-old architectural assistant from Chester, is with Morning ton Chasers and feeling intimidated by all the Soar-sponsored athletes in their fancy kit. ‘They’re like, mega,’ she says. She only just took up running races because she had to stop triathlons – after breaking both wrists falling off her bike. As if she’s got a chance here!
Similarly, Joshua Mitchell, 28, an underwriter from the Calder Valley, west of Leeds, has only done four proper races in his life. He’s been brought along by a friend and has no solid idea what this is, but believes the trick will be to pick someone else who looks ‘quick and decisive’ and follow them.
The slogan on Unsanctioned Athletics’ website is ‘No route. No rules’ – as vague as it’s possible to be. There’s also a picture of a leaping tiger. I hope there won’t be tigers. I see a guy from Embankment Run Club; he’s the one to talk to. He’s done
