Why Do Runners Love Being Uncomfortable?

Last week, the Runlimited team swapped the usual post-work pint for something a little hotter: a trip to the sauna.

Normally, when we finish work, our social plans are fairly predictable. We go to the pub, have a few drinks, eventually ask who’s opening which shop tomorrow and who has keys, and remember that we probably should go home. 

This time, rather than heading straight to the local watering hole, we found ourselves sitting in a sauna inside a boat on the side of Regent’s Canal (Thank you for having us Soak Bathhouse). 

Because apparently, a pint just wasn’t uncomfortable enough.

There’s something slightly questionable about runners. Why are we so eager to make ourselves uncomfortable? We put ourselves through gruelling sessions that leave us promising we’ll never do that again, only to voluntarily put ourselves through the same pain the following week. 

We run until our legs ache, our lungs burn and our hearts beat in overtime. We chase faster times, longer distances and the elusive hope that if we just suffer a little bit more, we’ll eventually get to where we want to be. 

And then, when we’re trying to recover and give our bodies a chance to rest, we seem to gravitate towards even more suffering. The sauna. The ice bath. The cold plunge. All in the name of recovery and optimisation.  

I’m not entirely sure when sauna-ing (is that a word?) became such a big part of many runners’ routines. One member of the team even feigned shock and horror when someone admitted they’d never been to a sauna before, claiming that it was simply a “key part of British culture”. 

Although the jury is still out on out on that one. I’m sure a few Nordics would have something to say about it. 

But there we were, sitting in a boat as it gently swayed from side to side on the canal, voluntarily entering a space that felt as hot as the photosphere (a fancy word for the visible surface of the Sun). 

Well, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. But when you’re sitting in a sauna, sweat dripping down your face and your body desperately trying to figure out what the heck is going on, it feels like a fairly accurate comparison. 

But does it actually work? 

In a traditional Finnish sauna, temperatures can reach around 80-90°C. Your body responds to the heat by increasing blood flow to the skin, raising your heart rate and producing sweat to regulate your temperature. It’s a physiological stress, even when you’re technically sitting down and doing absolutely nothing. 

Repeated exposure to heat can encourage adaptions involving thermoregulation, including changes in sweating, blood flow and plasma volume. Heat acclimation can also help the body cope better with exercise in the heat. 

But there’s a difference between heat acclimation through training and simply siting in a sauna after a run. Research into passive heat exposure is still limited, and recent systematic reviews found that its effect on endurance performance remains uncertain. 

So, while the sauna might have a place in an athlete’s routine, it’s not a shortcut to becoming a faster, more efficient runner. Its benefits depend on how it’s used, and the research is still developing. 

Maybe slightly disappointing, when we consider how much effort we’re willing to put into making ourselves uncomfortable. 

At some point, I started to question whether I was actually enjoying myself or simply refusing to be the first person to admit that I wanted to leave. 

There’s a certain kind of stubbornness that exists among runners. The sort that makes you convince yourself that you can hold your pace for one more kilometere or finish one more rep. Naturally, some of that stubbornness followed us into the sauna. A

s we all sat there, internally debating how long we could stay in the heat before giving up, I began to ponder whether this was actually a social or just another endurance even in disguise. 

I nearly fainted.  

Which, in hindsight, was probably a good indication that I should stop trying to prove how much heat I could tolerate.  

The cold plunge. 

Of course, no sauna experience would be complete without the cold plunge. 

Cold water immersion is often used by athletes in an attempt to reduce muscle soreness after exercise. There is some evidence that it can help with delayed onset muscle soreness, although the research is mixed and doesn’t establish that it improves every aspect of recovery. 

The ice bath might help you feel less sore, which can be useful in itself. But feeling better doesn’t necessarily mean you’re recovering faster in every sense, or that you’re suddenly going to run a PB. Sadly, there’s no guarantee you’ll emerge from the water ready to break 20 minutes in the 5K (although I wish there was!) 

Then there’s the mental side of it. There’s something about entering freezing water that makes you feel as though you’ve achieved something, even if that achievement is simply managing not to immediately leap back out.

The social  

The funny thing was, we barely talked about running. 

You might imagine that a group of runners, working alongside each other every day, would spend their evening comparing training plans, arguing about shoes or discussing race goals. 

Instead, the conversations became a blur of like updates, jokes and random bits and bobs that, quite honestly, I struggle to remember. Perhaps the heat had something to do with it. 

We weren’t talking about our mileage or our next race. We were just there: sweating, laughing and trying not to be the first person to surrender to the heat. 

But maybe that was the point. 

When did runners become so obsessed with optimisation? At what point did going for a run stop being enough? 

When did we start feeling the need to recover from our recovery, constantly searching for new ways to challenge our bodies? 

Maybe it’s the appeal of discomfort. The promise that doing something difficult will somehow make the next run easier. 

Or maybe runners are just a strange group of people who don’t really know what to do with themselves when they’re not running. 

Away from the science, there’s also something to be said for the sauna as a social space. For some people, a silent sauna is a chance to sit quietly and mull over their thoughts. For others, it’s an opportunity to catch up with friends and spend time together without the usual distractions. Some of us Runlimited girls have even made the Community Sauna in Hackney one of our regular hangouts.  

Maybe we weren’t there to optimise anything at all. Maybe we just wanted another excuse to spend time together. Not everything has to be about getting faster, running rather or finding the next thing that will make us better runners.  

Eventually, we made our way to the pub for food and drinks, rounding off a lovely evening of sweating, laughing and trying something a little different. 

Although, knowing us, I’m sure someone will suggest we go back next week. 

For the benefits, obviously.