There's a moment, usually around mile two, when you stop thinking about the fact that you voluntarily woke up at 6am on a Tuesday and start actually enjoying yourself. Someone makes a joke. Someone else is struggling on the hill and three people slow down without being asked. A stranger hands you a coffee at the finish and somehow already knows your name. And you think: oh, I get it now.

Run clubs have quietly become one of the most interesting social phenomena of the last few years. What started as a niche thing - a bit sporty, a bit intimidating, definitely requiring a specific kind of lycra - has turned into something else entirely. They are, depending on who you ask, the new pub, the new dating app, the new therapy, or simply the best way to see a city before the rest of it wakes up.

The timing makes sense. We came out of a few years of enforced isolation wanting connection but slightly out of practice at it. The pub still has its place, but there's something appealing about a social ritual that doesn't require you to shout over music, spend £14 on a round, or feel vaguely terrible the next morning. Run clubs offer the same thing the pub always did. A reason to show up, a shared experience, a community built on repetition - with the added bonus that you feel genuinely brilliant afterwards.

They've also got remarkably good at not feeling like exercise. The best ones have a whole world around the run itself: a coffee shop takeover at the end, a playlist that makes the last kilometre feel cinematic, a WhatsApp group that's somehow actually fun, and they also somehow always have the best merch. The run is almost beside the point. It's the excuse to gather.

If you've been curious, or if you've been told about one by an annoyingly friend, here's a list of the best in the world to know about.