“You’ve got about fifteen minutes left in this run. Let’s finish out strong,” said my coach. I tried to catch my breath but couldn’t, and I rolled back my shoulders as the small pink fanny pack containing my phone and keys slapped against my sweaty torso underneath my hoodie.
“You’re so strong!” said my coach. “Now, speed up your pace.” I pulled out my phone for the fifth time. I still had 12 minutes left. I groaned and put my phone back in the fanny pack, almost stumbling in the process, and barely survived the rest of the run. When he finally told me I’d reached the finish line, I pulled out my earbuds and checked my phone for my pace, distance, and step count.
In case you haven’t guessed, my “coach” was an app. Even though I’ve been running for years, I’ve never quite trusted myself to be the boss of my own runs, mostly because I don’t have a running background and have never worked with any kind of coach or trainer. When I tried out for the track team in seventh grade, I was the only student who didn’t get in.
When I started running in my early twenties, my sister, who was on her cross-country team and regularly participates in races, suggested I start out with guided runs. They helped me learn proper form and kept me motivated, but I never weaned myself off of them. And all my other exercise was mediated through my phone, anyway; I followed YouTube videos for yoga or Pilates and took screenshots of training plans to use at the gym. Actually, there was no part of my life that my phone didn’t touch in one way or another.
But last year, I reached a breaking point and knew I needed to find some way to spend less time on my phone; I was losing hours a day to scrolling. I picked up the book Stolen Focus, by Johann Hari, which outlines some of the ways that screens are taking over our lives and offers some ideas for how to make changes. I slowly did make some changes. I stopped looking at my phone in the mornings and evenings. I started reading again. I even took a 10-day break from using any screens at all. And I wasn't alone. Many of my friends were trying similar screen-free experiments, and as the new year hit, the analog trend was suddenly everywhere. I started going on walks without my phone or leaving it behind to go sit in the park.
Recently, I got the idea to give up my guided running app and try “analog” running. Over the last month, I’ve kept up my usual two or three runs a week, with just one difference: I leave my phone at home. That means not only no guided runs that track my steps, distance, and pace, but also no music.
Below, I share my takeaways from the experience, including challenges and benefits.
Takeaway 1: My mind-body connection improved immediately
When I removed all distractions, I was forced to pay closer attention to how my body felt. If my knee hurt even a little, I noticed immediately and adjusted. If I was struggling to fill my lungs, I slowed down until my breathing felt more even. I found that my runs felt easier and that I enjoyed the running itself more. Typically, I run more for how I feel after the run than during, but I really enjoyed feeling my feet hit the pavement and smelling the flowers I ran past. Instead of speeding up because someone else decided I had been warming up for long enough (or because I was listening to a really good song), I was able to notice that the pace I was at felt easier and that I could go a little faster. I now trust myself so much more than I did a month ago.
Takeaway 2: My endurance improved
I wasn’t expecting to see much change in my actual running, especially because without a way to track my pace and distance, there were no tangible numbers to mark my improvement. But it turns out I have a pretty accurate internal clock; when I wanted to go out for a half-hour run at 7:30, the clock read 8:03 upon my return. And after the first week, my runs got longer. I’d get to what felt like half an hour and feel like I had more in me, so I’d just keep going. I started running around 45 minutes for most of my runs, where before 30 minutes felt like the top of my endurance.
Takeaway 3: Running was more physically comfortable
I don’t have a smartwatch, so I’ve only ever run with my phone, and I didn’t realize what a physical impediment it was until I stopped. With a phone, I was either carrying it in the aforementioned fanny pack, which would move around while I ran, or I tucked it into the waistband of my leggings, where it would get gross and sweaty. On a few occasions I kept it in my hoodie pocket, which was probably the worst option. Without my phone, I was moving so much more freely and comfortably. I didn’t have to worry about it bouncing out of my pocket or sliding down the leg of my leggings (true story), and although phones aren’t exactly heavy, I felt physically and spiritually lighter.
Takeaway 4: I got to know my neighborhood better
Since I was always doing guided runs, I always ran at the same place in the same way. I’d jog to my local park and then run in circles around it. After the first analog run in the park, I knew I couldn’t keep up the endless circles; it got boring fast. I realized that if I wanted to stay, I was going to need to change up my routine. I ran down streets I hadn’t ever even walked down. I found out which block had the best-smelling flowers and found out about at least three coffee shops I want to try. I also was able to say hello to neighbors because I had more auditory awareness of my surroundings. On one of my longer runs, I did get lost for a good 20 minutes and wasn’t sure I was even going the right way to get home—but I was, and I felt so proud of myself when I actually made it back to familiar surroundings. I also unintentionally ran for much longer than I'd planned and was able to keep going.
Takeaway 5: I’m clearer about why I run in the first place
One of the biggest challenges with this experiment was having no idea whatsoever how fast or how far I went, at least during the run. Even when it came to my daily step count, it felt like if my phone didn't record it, it didn't count. And for a more serious athlete, having precise stats available can be the difference between reaching a goal like a sub-3 marathon or not. But that's not me. I would feel amazing about finishing a marathon in any amount of time, and I don’t have a strong desire to get much faster than I currently am. Even though it feels good to notice small improvements at the end of a run, I run primarily because of how it makes me feel, both physically and mentally. And from that perspective, analog running was really positive for me.
After going on a run without my phone, I was way less likely to pick it up afterward. And I also started running to somewhere else, like my local library or a nearby jazz bar. On those occasions, my analog run allowed me to have a whole analog afternoon or night, which was great for my mental health. While I do plan on bringing my phone on some runs in the future, I think I'm gonna keep it mostly analog from here on out. It makes getting outside easier, it makes my run more enjoyable, and it aligns with my personal running goals.

Katja Vujić is a freelance writer based in Brooklyn whose work has appeared in Runner’s World, The Cut, Allure, Architectural Digest, The Boston Globe Magazine, and more. You can find more of her work on her website.










