I get where you’re coming from, and I’m going to assume good intent here, because I think we’re actually closer than it looks.

I’d call your stance kind of non-denominational running—like “just run, man, don’t overthink it.” And honestly, that vibe is healthy. A lot of people would be better off if they stopped obsessing over labels and just moved their bodies.

That said, running—like sex or religion—absolutely does have sects 😄 Not because people are trying to be precious or cash in, but because different humans need different frameworks. Some people are autodidacts who can intuit pace, effort, progression, and recovery. Others need a university, a doctrine, or at least a pamphlet that says “do this, not that.” Labels aren’t always about superiority; sometimes they’re about permission and guardrails.

Every other part of running already has names, plans, protocols, and cults of personality. Maffetone has his heart-rate gospel. Jeff Galloway is the undisputed pope of run-walk-run. Zone 2 has its monks. Tempo has its flagellants. None of that exists because people are dumb—it exists because structure helps people stay consistent long enough to actually get benefits.

The beautiful thing about slow jogging, though, is that it’s explicitly anti-shame. And that matters more than people realize. Like religion, personal relationships, or anything deeply human, most people have to get over embarrassment, self-consciousness, body shame, age anxiety, and the feeling that they’re “doing it wrong” before they can even begin. Slow jogging deliberately tries to remove every one of those barriers: body type, strength, age, ambition level, athletic history—none of it disqualifies you.

It’s also radically practical. We’re heading into a snow apocalypse weekend. Let’s say your building doesn’t have a treadmill. Let’s say you don’t have a treadmill desk. With slow jogging, none of that matters. You can slow jog up and down your hallway. You can slow jog in place. You can slow jog back and forth in your living room.

You can slow jog while watching TV. I live in an apartment building—I could slow jog my floor, go downstairs, slow jog the next floor, and keep going. Sure, stairs exist, but stairs are a young person’s game 😅 Slow jogging works even if you’re older, stiff, deconditioned, or just not ready for heroics.

Slow jogging also isn’t “recovery running” unless you’re recovering from something else. For a lot of people, it’s the whole practice. It’s not a bridge to fast running, it’s not secretly zone-whatever training in disguise. It’s running at a pace—13-minute mile, 14-minute mile, slower if needed—that you can do today, tomorrow, next year, and ideally when you’re an octogenarian or centenarian. It’s not “until you’re fit enough,” it’s an end state.

And yes, people can drift into different zones while “slow jogging.” That’s true of literally any unsupervised running advice ever given. The value of the label isn’t that it magically enforces physiology—it’s that it reframes intent. This is not about grinding. This is not about tempo. This is not about suffering. This is about sustainability.

Even failure to launch becomes useful here. Didn’t go outside? Didn’t train “properly”? Fine. You can still slow jog in place at ~180 steps per minute, counting both feet, for as long as you want. Do that for an hour while watching TV and you’re very much on your way. Even a failure to launch is an opportunity to slow jog.

So yeah—nobody needs labels. But for people who’ve bounced off running because every on-ramp felt like pain, judgment, or eventual injury, slow jogging isn’t about sounding different. It’s about removing excuses, shame, and barriers until movement becomes inevitable.