It’s Saturday morning, and my running group is straggling (and in some cases, staggering) into the coffee shop after running. We’re a scruffy bunch, post-run. We’re always shocked when we see each other at a non-running social event; who knew we cleaned up so well?
Our conversation has that easy flow of warm and familiar relationships. A couple of people ask me how I’m feeling, as they (somehow) know I’ve been sick. We commiserate with one member of the group who skipped the morning run because he tweaked a hamstring a couple of weeks ago. The sub-group that took an alternative trail run regaled us with stories of woodsy beauty. Jean has a son getting married next weekend; other group members are recently back from business travel.
Andy is training to climb Mt. Rainer with his son in a couple of months, and we’re transfixed with his ambitious workout schedule. The conversation drifts to other matters: weekend plans, the ups and downs of the just-completed workweek, national news, and what our kids are up to.
I am struck by the sense of community and connection we share. We’re drawn together by our love and commitment to outdoor exercise, but we celebrate and support each other’s non-fitness life events, as well. A couple of people have kids who just graduated college. Someone is contemplating tearing his house down and building a bigger home. Several runners are in the middle of house remodels, while others have seriously ill friends or family strife.
All of us have other important tribes, as well: families, church and volunteer groups, political associations, and travel buddy connections. I have belonged to book clubs, female lawyer groups, and biking groups. For years, the MOB (Mother of Boys) social group met periodically to celebrate, and commiserate, life with spirited young boys. My law firm members and employees are close-knit; we know way too much about each other. (If you think you can keep your upcoming colonoscopy appointment private at the office, you are mistaken!)
But intrinsic to every small community is a sense of acceptance and belonging. We advocate for and support each other, bound by common pursuits or beliefs. We don’t spend a lot of time talking about how much we value each other, but we’re there in a heartbeat if needed.
By about 9:00, we slowly and somewhat reluctantly part ways, wishing each other a happy and productive upcoming week. Our modern-day tribe breaks up, and we re-enter our separate worlds filled with family, friends, and personal and professional commitments.
But come next Saturday, if I’m in town, I’ll be hanging out for just a while with my kindred-spirit running and walking buddies. We’ll pick up right where we left off: cajoling, teasing, connecting, and belonging.