Owen Akhibi Herrera started a run club in 2024 because he wanted community. Made $640,000 instead. That's the trade-off when you crave human connection in New York City. You either make friends or you make rent money for sixteen studio apartments.
The run club became a side hustle. Not a hobby that pays for itself. Not beer money. Six hundred and forty thousand dollars. From running. In a city where running is free and people do it to avoid subway fare anyway.
Herrera saw entrepreneurial opportunity in people jogging together. He looked at a pack of humans doing the most basic form of exercise and thought: I can charge for this. He was right. Turns out loneliness is more expensive than a Peloton subscription and twice as profitable to exploit.
The business model is elegant. People pay money to run with other people who also paid money to run with people. Nobody runs alone anymore. Nobody runs for free. Herrera created scarcity in an activity that requires nothing but feet and pavement. Brilliant, really. Evil, but brilliant.
You're sitting at your desk reading this. You make less than a man who organized group jogging. He didn't invent running. Didn't cure anything. Didn't build software. Just said "run with me" and collected checks. Your finance degree is worth less than his ability to show up at the same place twice a week wearing reflective clothing.
The retail traders are taking notes now. Scribbling business plans. "I'll start a walking club. A breathing club. A standing-still club." They'll fail because they're missing the key ingredient: being the first guy shameless enough to commodify desperation dressed up as wellness.
Herrera craved community and found capitalism. That's not irony. That's New York.
Photo by Arnaud Padallé on Unsplash
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