Are You a Jogger?
Lori Riley at the Hartford Courant wants to know “When did ‘jogger’ become a bad word?”
Feel free to add your own response, but I simply go to the dictionary. Merriam-Webster Online defines jogging as “a : to run or ride at a slow trot b : to go at a slow, leisurely, or monotonous pace : trudge” Wikipedia goes so far as to assign a boundary line between running and jogging: 10 minute miles.
I don’t get all wild-eyed and angry if someone refers to what I do as jogging. They’re just wrong.



I go by my own definition on this one. Jogging, according to the Barefoot Josh Dictionary (Sponsored by Charlie’s Soap!), has nothing to do with speed and everything to do with form. If you land heel first, you’re jogging. Running is landing on your forefoot and/or full-foot. Jogging is jarring, running is smooth.
But, as I’m the only one who uses the Barefoot Josh Dictionary, this definition is probably meaningful to a party of one.
Barefoot Josh
charliesoap.com
Hey Mike – did you happen to be on the trail near hazel with runners with bib numbers running the other way on Saturday – I thought I saw you and was going to call out to you, but I was in the zone and you looked like you were in the zone, so I didn’t but I was pretty sure that was you! I was running my first full marathon!
Sabrina,
First, congratulations! Second, nope, it wasn’t me. I’m still rehabilitating my tendinitis – or synovitis – or sinus tarsi syndrome – whatever, and I’m only doing about 8 miles a week around my neighborhood.
To answer the topic question, since I do 11-12 minute miles, I’m absolutely a jogger.
I used to be a runner – now I’m a jogger….thanks a lot.
I say, if it feels like you’re running – you’re Running. If it feels like your trudging, you’re Jogging. Or trudging. Trudging is a definite possibility.
Sometimes I say I’m “going for a trot”, but I’d never call myself a trotter – that just sounds fruity.
But if I’m training for races, I’m definitely not calling myself a Jogger because no one says “I’m going to jog a half marathon!” because, again, that sounds fruity.
None of that made sense. I’m sorry.