From Hesitant to Hooked: How I Fell in Love with the LSOM Run

I’ll be honest—I never thought I’d be a trail runner. The idea of mixed terrain, uneven paths, hills, and unpredictable weather never really appealed to me. I was more of a pavement runner, sticking to flat routes where I knew exactly what to expect. Plus, as a slower runner, there was always that lingering fear in the back of my mind: “What if I slow everyone down?” That thought alone kept me from trying out most social runs for a long time.

But then I heard about the Last Sunday of the Month (LSOM) Run. It wasn’t something I’d normally sign up for—6 to 7 miles of mixed-terrain trail running? That sounded like a lot, especially for someone like me who wasn’t exactly built for speed. Still, something about the way people talked about it intrigued me. It didn’t sound like a typical race; it sounded more like an adventure. So, with a bit of hesitation (and a lot of self-doubt), I decided to give it a try.

When I arrived for my first LSOM run, I was incredibly nervous. I kept looking around, wondering if I’d made a mistake. Everyone else seemed so confident, chatting easily with one another, talking about their running gear, and looking ready to tackle whatever the route had in store. I, on the other hand, was silently calculating exit strategies in case I needed to sneak away without anyone noticing.

But then Michael, who organises the events, gathered us all for a pre-run briefing. And that’s when everything changed. He spoke with such warmth and enthusiasm, making it clear that this wasn’t a race. His words stuck with me:

“We’re here to run as a group, not to race each other. Nobody gets left behind.”

Hearing that was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. These runs are about enjoying the run, together.

We set off, and I’ll admit, the first mile was tough—not physically, but mentally. I kept expecting the faster runners to pull ahead, leaving me to struggle alone. And yes, some of them did run ahead, but here’s the difference: they didn’t just disappear into the distance. At regular intervals, they’d loop back, rejoining those of us towards the back. They’d chat with us, offer encouragement, and make it feel like we were all part of the same team.

During the run, I met a wonderful person named Genni, who ran alongside me, chatting the whole way and instantly making me feel welcome. Her warmth and friendliness really stood out, as did the kindness from everyone else in the group. Later, I discovered that Genni is Michael’s partner, and it genuinely made me happy to know that such inclusive, supportive events are hosted by people who truly care about creating a welcoming community.

That simple act—coming back to run with us—meant the world. It wasn’t forced; it wasn’t done out of pity. It was genuine, part of the culture. What surprised me even more was how fun it was to watch some of the quicker runners having a bit of friendly banter and racing each other on certain segments. There was absolutely no pressure to join in, but I actually felt like I could have given it a go—though I held back because I didn’t want to embarrass myself!

What really stood out was how there was no gap between the front and the back of the pack. I’ve always felt that divide in other events, like two separate groups running the same course. But not here. It felt like one team, one community, with everyone connected, no matter their pace.

And here’s another thing that really surprised me: it’s not a continuous run.
I was expecting the usual “head down, keep moving” mentality you find in most running events. But not here. We had plenty of stops—to catch our breath, take photos, admire the views, and just enjoy the moment. Michael made sure we were all ready before starting again, never rushing anyone or making us feel like we were holding things up.

As we ran, I started noticing things I’d never seen before, even though I’ve lived in the area for years. Quiet countryside paths, hidden woodland trails, peaceful pockets of nature tucked away just beyond the usual roads. It was like seeing my hometown through a completely new lens.

But it wasn’t just the scenery that stood out. It was the people.
I chatted with runners I’d never met before, shared stories, laughed about the unexpected puddles we’d splashed through, and bonded over the mutual love-hate relationship with hills. There was no competition, no comparing times or distances—just a group of people enjoying the simple act of running together.

And yes, some parts of the route were challenging. There were sections that made my legs burn and my heart race. But every tough incline came with a reward—a stunning view at the top, a cool breeze through the trees, or the shared satisfaction of conquering it together. It was blissful in a way I never expected.

Just when I thought the experience couldn’t get any better, we finished the run and were greeted with something magical: Cake.
Not just any cake—proper, delicious cake! And not just one option—we had the choice of three different kinds! Naturally, I couldn’t resist and had two slices (no regrets).

After a few miles of running, there’s nothing quite like sitting down with a group of friendly faces, enjoying a well-earned slice (or two), and reflecting on the adventure you’ve just shared. It wasn’t just a post-run treat; it felt like the perfect way to round off the day—good food, great company, and that satisfying post-run glow.

That post-run gathering felt like the perfect way to end the day. No rush to head home, no need to compare times—just good food, good company, and that special feeling that comes from doing something you’re proud of.

Before I knew it, I was planning for the next LSOM run. And the one after that. And now? I’m a regular.
I never thought I’d be able to say this, but I can now proudly call myself a trail runner.

The LSOM runs have shown me that running doesn’t have to be about speed, distance, or pushing yourself to the limit. It can be about discovery of new places, new people, and even new parts of yourself. It’s a different take on the usual running event.
More of a guided tour than a race, and honestly, I prefer it that way.

It’s welcoming, slightly tough in places, blissful, supportive, and—did I mention?—there’s cake.

If you’ve ever felt like running events aren’t for you, or if you’ve been worried about keeping up with others, I can’t recommend the LSOM run enough. Nobody gets left behind. Everyone’s part of the team.

I went from doubting if I even belonged there to wondering how I ever ran without this kind of community.
And I’ll be attending these events from now on because, quite simply, they’re that good.