Rebecca Barry: Kiwis' passion for running defies logic

Judging by all the backpack-wearing, high-heel-clutching office folk running to and from the CBD, people are obviously buying into the concept that there's fun to be had in a fun run.

The Auckland Round the Bays is less than a month away and I'd imagine the increase in foot traffic is to do with training. Why else would people put themselves through the torture of running in this heat?

It's amazing how many charitable types are willing to enter these sweat orgies. More than 9000 people participated in the Wellington Round the Bays on the weekend, and 40,000 are expected to register for the Auckland event on March 14.

Round the Bays is only 8.4km. Doable, even for the schmucks who don't bother to train - they just show up on the day, run the thing then ask if anyone feels like going hiking. But every second person seems to have run something of this ilk, a half-marathon, the length of the country, the Nevada desert, and downplays the achievement as though they just figured out how to tie a half windsor.

American comedian Lewis Black once said the first thing he noticed in Auckland were all the Kiwis jogging on the spot at the lights, pedometers cranking, waiting for the signal to cross. While living in London I searched in vain for a decent pair of running shoes, only to find that there's a reason such shoe shops are seldom seen: the first time I went running there I coughed up ice and was nearly swallowed by the Thames. Last week I literally ran into a trio of runners, none of whom appeared to be hating every second. Why are we such a nation of runners?

Obviously we have pretty things to look at when we run, the air is (mostly) clean, we're an outdoorsy country who prides ourselves on the likes of Peter Snell. But running is a completely bizarre thing to do.

We don't run to spear our water-pumped and salted fowl, diced and plastic-wrapped for our convenience. When we run we do it all at once, wearing things we'd not be caught dead in at any other time. I often run in a fluorescent green T-shirt that looks like it was designed by a blind road worker in 1982, white clodhoppers that kill generations of innocent ants with every footfall, a visor with a big mascara stain on the front.

If we didn't schedule specific runs, we'd be running for the bus, running to catch the napkin that just blew off the table, running to the post office before it shuts. In normal, everyday life, you don't run for the sake of running. It's dangerous, physically and socially. The majority of runner-vehicle accidents are caused by the runner, who is presumably so in the zone they don't realise thar's cars on them thar hills. Each time my left foot connects with the footpath I'm reminded of a painful roller disco incident over a year ago.

Friends have regaled me with horrifying tales of marathon-training Minties' moments which, without going into too much detail, have involved squatting in stranger's gardens or removing their T-shirts to hide the effects of soiled derrieres (from slipping in the mud of course). I still recoil at the memory of a schoolmate who was so desperate to get out of the school cross country that she extracted her own tooth.

Aside from all that stress and strain on the body, self-inflicted or otherwise, a study conducted at the University of London recently found that 20 per cent of those tested gained no benefit from aerobic exercise. Not to add too much weight to these findings, which suggest some of us are better packing in the running shoes but it does get you thinking about why we run. Cue the Evermore anthem. A lot of us are doing it. The Active New Zealand survey for 2007-08 shows that 80 per cent of Kiwis did some sort of sport or recreation activity, and almost half surveyed achieved the recommended 30 minutes a day, five times a week. For me, it's running.

Why? Is it for the mental and physical stamina, the self-empowerment, the challenge, the fitness, the runner's high, the freedom, the lack of gym membership fees, the fact that you can do it pretty much anywhere, anytime? No, it's because everyone else is doing it.

It's time to start a new trend, and I propose luging. No offence to lugers, who I'm sure have intensive training regimes that allow them to withstand the insane G-forces their bodies are put under - not to mention the mental intensity involved in steering such a dangerous ride - but having watched copious amounts of luge at the Winter Olympics and become addicted to the idea of travelling at 140km/h on a bobsled, it looks a lot less sweaty and a lot more fun than a fun run. Bring on Down the Bays.