Sarah Tobin, head of talent development for Calm, the meditation app, spent an hour in February 2023 pasting monochromatic flyers around the Marina. “Marina Run Club,” the flyer read. “Boost your sense of community. Weekly group runs and social events. All levels welcome.”
A QR code led interested people to Instagram: “Get moving. 7 a.m., Marina Green, Saturday.”
Tobin had no idea if anyone would show up, but even if she had zero response, “at least I’d get a run in.”
Still, she really, really, hoped people would show up.
She needed this.
Tobin, who left sunny Brisbane, Australia, for San Francisco in 2017, had long worked remotely and missed having an in-person tribe. “I was on screens all day; I wasn’t engaging with the outside world. … I felt really lonely,” she said. Plus, she’d signed up to run the San Francisco Marathon that July and needed to “be held accountable.”
Four people showed up that cold, foggy morning: a woman and three guys, all strangers, a little awkward, dressed to run.
Tobin, her blond hair slicked back in a high ponytail, led a quick icebreaker — “What did you want to be when you were little?” — a technique borrowed from her work in organizational psychology. The group set off together, along Marina Boulevard and deep into Crissy Field, accompanied by the caw of gulls and the crash of waves on rocks.
They looped back to the start, a total of three miles, and headed to a coffee shop to refuel. “My plan is to meet three mornings a week,” Tobin told the group. “We’ll train Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”
The others nodded, but Tobin didn’t know if they were serious. But they showed up at the next session, then the next. Their numbers grew. By March 2023, around 50 people were running, and a month later, more than 400 had signed up via her Google form.
Today, the Marina Run Club, or MRC, has 11,500 followers on Instagram and has completed more than 300 group morning runs, with an average of 150 attendees. The group runs four times a week, plus schedules regular social events and track nights at Kezar Stadium. MRC has a highly active, 1,300-person WhatsApp group with 47 subchannels connecting members interested in other hobbies like pickleball, food and pets. Members have shared Tahoe ski leases, job opportunities and romance — “but no Run Club marriages yet!” said Tobin.
Social connection is the No. 1 reason people run, according to a 2023 Strava report, which is why run clubs have exploded post-pandemic. “Running is by its nature thought of as a solitary pursuit, but running is often about connection. I’ve had some of my deepest conversations on runs,” said Mimi Albert, who co-hosts Runners of The Bay, a podcast about local running culture. Plus, “you’re able to run 365 days a year here.”
Searches for Bay Area-based run clubs have risen 300% over the last five years, while brand collaborations have morphed clubs into marketing opportunities. Celebrity-endorsed events like Diplo’s Run Club, a 5k race and party set for San Francisco in September, have added another layer of exclusivity.
At the Marina Club, free events, after-run socials and the enthusiastic acceptance of sprinters and stragglers that have made it a runaway hit amongst the dozens of Bay Area run clubs. “We’re here to meet our neighbors, to be curious, to lay the foundations of a community,” said Tobin. That welcome is extended to slow runners, she added.
As MRC grew, Tobin appointed captains — all confident, gregarious runners — to mentor new runners and cheer on old ones. She hosts monthly newbies-only socials to get people in the MRC spirit. “There’s a get-to-know-you bingo game,” she said. “I’ve run lots of onboarding programs, and I applied that to our new member experience.”
There’s a uniform no-jerk policy; MRC’s published code of conduct stresses zero tolerance for harassment. This, in part, seems to be a nod to any negative associations with the club’s name. “Yes, we’re in the Marina, but we don’t conform to the white, frat-like stereotype,” she said. Think of it as the anti-Marina Marina Run Club.
“It’s inspiring to see so many people come together, all with their own goals,” said Mia Eisenberg, a 22-year-old from Marin, who joined MRC in May. The drive to the Marina takes 35 minutes, plus she has to shell out $10 in bridge tolls — but the community is worth it, she said. “It’s also fun to run by the water.”
Zarina Khan, a 35-year-old AI hardware product manager, was initially hesitant about MRC. A competitive runner in high school, she didn’t want to slip back into an environment of peer-pressured exercise. “It took me four weeks to get the nerve to go,” she said. “But they were so welcoming, I forgot it’s a run club. Now I think of it as a way to see my friends.”
Khan met her best friend during an MRC-organized volunteering session at the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank. They bagged groceries, “shared curly fries and just talked about our lives.”
Kevin Moore, a 31-year-old construction consultant and Marina resident, is one of MRC’s longest-running participants; he was member No. 11. “When I started, I couldn’t run a mile,” he said. Gentle encouragement from the group helped, as did a “flow” state of mind. “You have to show yourself a lot of grace. … Progress isn’t always linear. But if you lace up and keep going, it’s beautiful.”
That’s what Tobin hoped for, but she doesn’t take anyone’s enthusiasm for granted. The flow state takes a lot of work to reach — it is about showing up and showing up again. Today, most of Tobin’s free time is filled with strategizing, planning and attending club events. “It’s my passion,” she said. “People say how much it’s impacted them, and that motivates me.”
Brands have begun reaching out. Baptiste Yoga ran a free private session for MRC members; Renew Physical Therapy hosted a catered “bulletproof your knees” workshop, and Nike bankrolled a San Francisco Marathon afterparty.
The Marina branch of Cafe Réveille has become a defacto clubhouse for MRC’s thrice-weekly morning runs. “We prep, because we know it’s going to be a big rush on a tight schedule,” said barista Ava Ghil. Sometimes 50 people rock up for post-run coffees; sometimes its 150. Ghil likes the friendly energy and the fact that club members buy a lot of cold brew, “though they’re not really big on the pastries.”
Matthew Zaso, a 33-year-old tech lead at Asana, said MRC changed his life. His friend group dwindled during pandemic lockdowns, and he’d contemplated leaving the Bay. At one point, he’d hosted birthday drinks in a bar, and six people showed up. “I had two tables and couldn’t fill them,” he said. Then he started attending MRC events and found his community. “I had the same venue for my next birthday,” he said, “and so many MRC people came, I reserved the top floor.”
It’s fair to wonder if everyone’s on a bit of a runner’s high — or if someone’s spiked the Gatorade with microdoses of Molly. Is MRC really this charming and communal? The answer, from The Standard’s multiple running sessions and interviews, is yes. The most negative feedback we received, via a former member, was that the club is not ideal for introverts (fair — but is any social club?), and that some people chafe at being asked about their relationship status at introductory events.
The latter no longer happens, Tobin said. “We are really focused on not being a dating club,” she stressed; there are run clubs specifically designed that way, like NYC’s Lunge club, where singles run in black. “My goal is to be safe, welcoming and meet people you enjoy spending time with.”
A few months ago, MRC added a $30-a-month tier that gives members access to additional socials, training, retail discounts and the WhatsApp group. “It’s expensive to run the website, to organize everything,” she said, noting that she’s trying to recoup her costs, not profit off her community.
Coming up, there’s a sauna and yoga experience at Alchemy Springs, a luxury Nob Hill bathhouse; a Yosemite trip; and some 70 members will run the Berlin Marathon in September.
“I’d really considered leaving San Francisco because I was so lonely,” said Tobin. “But now I have so many friends, so much to do, there’s no way I can go. This is home now.”