11th March 2025
For years, running was the least cool thing you could do in public. It was either the domain of middle-aged suburbanites in neon windbreakers or ultra-marathon freaks who got high off their own VO2 max. But now? Running is having a moment, and hip-hop is leading the charge.
When Gunna posted a cinematic clip of himself running—flanked by SUVs like a presidential motorcade—you knew something was shifting. The Atlanta rapper, draped head to toe in adidas, wasn’t just out for a casual jog; he was making a statement. Running had entered the hip-hop aesthetic, and with it, the sport finally had cultural clout.
This isn’t just a one-off stunt. Across the US, UK, and France, rap artists are suddenly embracing running culture in a way we haven’t seen before. Central Cee is documenting his runs on TikTok, casually dropping a 26-minute 5K. French rapper Rilès is pushing human endurance to its limits, turning a 24-hour treadmill run into a live art installation. And when Pharrell carried the Olympic torch last summer, he did it in a pair of $500 adidas marathon shoes. Running isn’t just about fitness anymore—it’s about image, storytelling, and self-discipline.
Running Was Never Cool—Until It Was
It’s wild to think that just a few decades ago, running was so niche that Nike co-founder Bill Bowerman had to write a book in 1966 literally called Jogging just to convince Americans that it wasn’t weird. The sport had no cultural weight outside of hardcore athletes. Basketball had swagger. Football had intensity. Running? It had shin splints and dorky headbands.
But then came the fashion world. First, high-performance sneakers became status symbols. Brands like Nike, adidas, and On turned hyper-technical running shoes into luxury items. Limited drops of super shoes—some costing north of $500—started selling out instantly. Then, run clubs evolved into social movements. Groups like Youwasntder and The Speed Project transformed running into something communal, rebellious, and undeniably cool. They weren’t just logging miles; they were creating a scene.
The Hip-Hop Connection
Hip-hop and fashion have always been intertwined. Once running gear became desirable, it was only a matter of time before music caught up. FKA Twigs became an ambassador for On. Rasharn Powell launched The Roadrunner Club, leading fans on group runs before intimate listening sessions. And now, mainstream rappers are using running to frame their narratives.
There’s a reason this is hitting now. Rap culture has long celebrated hustle, grind, and discipline—values that align perfectly with running. This isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s about mental fortitude. When Central Cee posts about his training, it’s not just content—it’s an extension of his brand. Running becomes a metaphor for patience, resilience, and success. You can’t rush greatness.
And then there’s Rilès, who’s turned running into performance art. His “Survival Run” project—24 hours on a treadmill, pushing his body to the absolute limit—feels like something Kanye would dream up in a moment of creative mania. Fans aren’t just watching a workout; they’re witnessing an endurance spectacle, a test of willpower wrapped in existential drama. It’s running as a statement piece.
Where This Is Going
Hip-hop embracing running is just the start. The real shift is in how artists are incorporating it into their wider personas. The rise of ‘wellness rap’—where health, discipline, and longevity are just as important as money, cars, and jewellery—signals a broader evolution in what success looks like. The ultimate flex isn’t just designer drip anymore; it’s waking up early, getting miles in, and having the stamina to outlast everyone else.
Running has infiltrated music. The question now is: what’s next? A rapper launching their own sneaker is old news. The next move? Owning an entire running movement. A signature training programme. A custom marathon route. A music x endurance crossover that takes this even further.
Bill Bowerman could never have seen this coming.