The First to Fast 5K, a new event hosted on New York’s Randall’s Island in partnership with the coaching app Runna, was supposed to be a celebration of racing progress, especially for those following a Runna training plan. But when runners crossed the finish line and checked their watches, something didn’t add up.
Michael Ko, Kofuzi, a running influencer contracted by the platform, spent 12 weeks documenting his 5K training journey on YouTube using a Runna plan, and became one of the first to sound the alarm. His chip time: 18:17. His watch: 2.99 miles, or 4.812 km.
At first, he chalked it up to GPS weirdness. After all, the course did run under a few overpasses.
But then other runners chimed in, and a quick sweep of public Strava data confirmed it: the course wasn’t just a little off. Almost everyone came in well short of a full 5K (3.106 miles), with most GPS files showing between 2.96 and 3.03 miles.
That’s not a minor GPS blip. That’s a measurable miss.
Ko later mapped out what he thought went wrong in a follow-up live stream on his YouTube channel.
Based on satellite overlays, runners may have been routed onto the inner path of a divided section on the return leg, hugging tighter tangents than the route likely intended. With no USATF certification in place and no formal course map available before the race, there’s no way to know for sure. But it’s clear something went sideways.
There’s a difference between “certified” and “close enough.” This race was the latter.
While most local 5Ks aren’t certified, and that’s fine for fun runs or neighborhood jogs, accuracy matters when you’re chasing a personal best or trying to complete the actual distance you signed up for.
To be clear, nobody’s accusing Runna of pulling a fast one.
But when a training app aimed at helping people run their fastest hosts a race, and the race ends up being short, people are going to talk. Especially when some runners were treating this as a legit benchmark or hoping for a verified PR.
For Ko, the misfire didn’t overshadow the whole experience.
The pre- and post-race atmosphere was great, the vibes were chill, and the coffee and bagels got a thumbs-up (including from his sister, who’s apparently a bagel snob of the highest order). And from a fitness perspective, he walked away confident he’s in PR shape, just without the official time to prove it.
“If you signed up for a 5K and didn’t get to run a 5K,” Ko said in his race recap, “what you’re feeling is valid.”
He’s right. This isn’t a case of GPS watches overreacting. A 175 to 200 meter shortfall isn’t a rounding error; it’s a reroute. And it reminds us why certified courses exist in the first place: they’re for runners who want to know that their effort matched the distance. No more, no less.
At the end of the day, nobody’s qualifying for anything off a local 5K. But that doesn’t mean runners don’t care. A short course doesn’t ruin a good time, but it does make your watch face harder to trust.
So if you’re planning your next goal race, especially with a brand-backed plan, maybe make sure the route actually measures what it claims.
Because when your watch says 2.99, you can’t exactly round up.
At the time of writing, Runna has not yet released a statement concerning the short course.
