By Kyle Merber
September 2, 2026
Do all wedding bands tell dance floors that they’re the best crowd they’ve ever seen, just a few songs into their set? Or is that just a runners’ wedding thing?
If you have been fortunate enough to attend the nuptials between two runners, bringing at least two sets of former teammates together, then you have likely heard this compliment. There’s something about the first few notes of a middling early 2000s dance pop hit that sends a crowd of thinning-haired ex-competitive runners into a state of euphoria—right back in the flow state of a beer-drenched post-Nationals house party.
Most weddings are fun! But most weddings don’t feature six-mile group runs as the anchor of the weekend’s agenda. It’s not in most cultures’ tradition to do coffee and bagels from a trailhead. Heading out for early miles with a pack of equally washed up athletes-turned-parents brings out feelings of cross country camp nostalgia, only this time, with hangovers.
We tear up when the father of the bride proudly retells the stories of discovering his daughter was faster than the rest of her class and his amazement when college coaches started leaving voicemails on the family answering machine. The best man tells a story about a conference meet you can vividly recall, and brings the house down with the name drop of an obscure high school rival who you haven’t thought about since losing to them at the state meet.
There’s a special bond that only running thousands of miles together can create between friends. And to know, grow, and struggle together with a group that shared the best four years of their lives together, only to then meet another, equally bizarro group of friends that did the same thing, only slightly differently… it creates an instant and symbiotic dynamic. There are names on the guest list that you recognize from results two decades ago. You might’ve only shaken their hand after a race to say good job, but it feels like you’re old pals because you periodically exchange kudos with one another on Strava.
The curated playlist rehashes songs that you once downloaded to your iPod Touch before a long bus ride. Half an hour in, the dancing gets sloppy. But there’s no side-eyeing—just understanding. These are the people who were there when you drank your first beer, after all. They’ve seen worse. It’s all silly fun.
Shirts come off when “Mr. Brightside” comes on, elated shrieking drowns out the entirety of “Dancing on My Own,” and you realize that you somehow know every word to a Jason DeRulo song you hadn’t heard in a decade. GPS watches note steadily elevating heart rates. It’s like an off-season celebration after everyone went dry. No one is pacing themselves or showing signs of fatigue as the night goes on.
No matter how far removed from their competitive primes they may be, these are endurance athletes at work, after all. Runners are different, and that’s why we like to marry each other. It makes for a fun party.
Kyle Merber
Kyle Merber is a former professional miler turned media multi-hyphenate. While he’s not above dropping a quick “back in my day,” he’s far more focused on the present. Since 2021, he has brought his signature analysis and commentary to track fans across the CITIUS MAG network. When he’s not writing The Lap Count or hopping on podcasts, Kyle manages partnerships and pitches a relentless stream of ideas for Chris to consider. He might not be running a 3:52 mile anymore, but he keeps himself in just good enough shape to ensure the athletes still respect him.
