A few months ago, in January, I was driving my red 2015 Toyota Yaris to the tip of Long Island (Montauk), and I was listening to my friend tell a story about her adolescence. Earlier in the drive, as new york city shrank behind us, my mind was skittish. I was worrying about ice on the road, the lack of tread on my little tires, the work I wasn’t going to finish that weekend, the texts I hadn’t answered, my tendency to let long-distance friendships fizzle out quietly, etc etc. 

But then, twenty minutes into the drive, my friend began describing the amusement park she worked at one summer as a teenager and the Russian man—also a park employee—with whom she became romantically entangled. Drama ensued. money went missing. young love burned bright and died fast as it goes. 

It was a story about girlhood, the tension between wanting to depart from it but also stay there forever. My mind was gripped by the story, and paradoxically, my anxious grip on the steering wheeling loosened—the blood returned to knuckles, the worry that pricked at my brain softened. And when my friend finished her tale, I reflected on not just the thrilling plot she’d drawn me into, but also on how I felt as a listener—present. locked in. really fucking good. and I realized: a good story has the ability to make me feel human again. 

Running also has this effect on me, and I’ve talked/written/posted about this a lot. I mean, my whole social media presence sort of revolves around the platitude: movement is medicine. But I keep saying it! Because it’s literally so true! Running’s ability to make me feel present and human is why I picked up the hobby long ago, when I was the ripe age of 22, living in Los Angeles, feeling daunted by the suddenness of adulthood and foreverness of The Rest of My Life. Running helped then, and still does now. I don’t need to drone on about how running releases endorphins, which subsequently release dopamine, a neurotransmitter affecting mood regulation because I’m sure you’ve heard it all before. I gather that if you’re reading this, you probably have your own personal experiences with the mental benefits of movements. 

But I will drone on about something else: I have seen the power of running to shift moods, vibes, aura, whatever you want to call in not just myself as an individual, but also in groups of people. During my time as a runfluencer (I just laughed because what if I instead I started that sentence as: “during my tenure as a runfluencer” LOL why is that making me giggle!) but during my time as a runfluencer, I have had the pleasure and privilege of leading many group runs and have always noticed something: when people arrive to the meeting spot before the run, there is a nervous, vaguely tense energy in the room. And then, of course, we run. We come back to the space where we started (usually the upper floor “community space” of a running store), and, as if like magic, the energy has shifted: strangers are talking to strangers, upper lips bubble with sweat, new friendships bloom, hamstrings are stretched, chatter fills the space! Oh how beautiful! We are human! To me, this transformation is such an obvious example of the power of movement. Vulnerability has been unlocked. HURRAH! 

And so for these reasons, Good Story was born, first in my mind and then in real life, on a Tuesday in May. It’s a community rooted in both movement and storytelling; in creativity and physicality—because, for me at least, the two are inseparable.

The very first expression of Good Story was the run club: GSRC. It’s a completely free, recurring event. On the first Tuesday of every month, we gather in Brooklyn and jog a loop of Prospect Park together. This act of jogging, of moving together, lubricates our minds (and I am so deeply sorry to use the word “lubricate” but it felt most apt) and softens our egos so that afterwards, when we gather at a small little wine bar in Crown Heights, we tell stories—true ones. Messy and unpolished ones. Funny, thoughtful, occasionally awkward ones (I once told a fart story). But always honest ones. Always human!

As Good Story grows, more events and workshops will emerge—each exploring the relationship between movement and creativity. Stay tuned. I’m so glad you’re here. There’s more to come.

-Lydia