I push on to stick to the plan, even though I know it could result in further injury. I also haven’t posted on Strava in a while, and I’m sure all fifteen followers are judging me.
This got me thinking – is Strava becoming another toxic social media platform?
How many of us have captioned a run “Easy 5k” or “Slow jog around Platt Fields” to make up for an appalling pace when, really, you cried two kilometres in and had to sit on a bench to stop yourself passing out? I know I’ve made excuses, and I bet you have too. But why?
Since its beginning in 2008, Strava has grown to over eighty million users. The lockdown years of 2020 and 2021, when it seemed everyone was picking up their trainers, caused a massive influx of sign-ups. Strava is a convenient way to set goals and measure progress, without the costly investment of a fitness watch or tracker. It holds users accountable, with followers offering kudos and motivational comments as progress increases.
In this sense, the app is a form of social media, but with an ostensibly healthier format. It turns the often-individualised act of running into a social pursuit, allowing for connection with friends and family wherever they’re based. Not wanting to lose touch with my exchange year run club, for instance, I maintain the group and these connections via Strava.
A fellow run club member, Julia from Berlin, agrees: “I like to continue supporting the group without having to actively reach out each day. I love seeing people achieve the goals they set when we started running together in Denmark.”
Strava is clearly a fantastic fitness tool for the young and social runner, but its features, which inspire progress and connection, can also fuel toxicity and exercise obsession. Manchester student Lucy began running three years ago and quickly got used to tracking her exercises through Strava. However, when she suffered an injury in August, she realised just how deeply the app had gotten under her skin:
“I had to delete Strava because I began comparing myself to old runs and times – it was a massive hit to my self-esteem: I couldn’t run anymore, I couldn’t track anything, it felt like I’d gone backwards.”
Misuse of the app can take a toll on both mind and body. Pre-injury, her engagement with Strava escalated: “When I look back, I realise the injury was caused by running too much, too quickly. I saw others running crazy distances and figured I could do the same – I was making great progress on Strava, but my body was suffering.’
Of course, we can’t wholly blame the app; our natural urge for competitiveness is hard to get around, but perhaps we need to be more introspective. We all know Instagram, with its beaming pictures of fun, parties, and endless friends, is to be taken with a pinch of salt – so why can’t we do this for Strava? Why are we letting ourselves be so affected by other runners, or haunted by the PBs of our former selves?
To fix this, we need to use Strava for its intended purpose: a tracking log rather than a scoreboard. Whilst the allure of extra kudos rightly encourages progress and self-improvement, the constant pursuit of validation can become dangerously obsessive.
Activity doesn’t need recognition to be worthwhile, yet with a healthy perspective, Strava’s community can prove a positive exercise network. The focus needs to be on celebrating our efforts, rather than comparing or deliberately misleading others about them.
