
Early on, Becca Wells wasn’t thinking about building a track club. All she wanted was a little connection and a lotta speed work.
“We wanted to get faster,” Wells, 39, says of the core group that assembled a half a decade ago on the Austin High track. “I was like, ‘Let’s do some workouts.’”
The nameless group appeared on Thursday mornings.
Then, before they knew it, a beautiful portrait emerged in the morning sky.
“I jokingly made an Instagram,” Wells said. “We called it the Sunrise Track Club. Now here we are.”
Five years later, this speed-based training group is humming along.
On a recent Thursday, handfuls of people begin appearing at O Henry Middle School (the group’s tentative home until the Austin High track is available again) at the crusty-eyed time of 5:55 a.m.
When the group exploded a few years ago, it reached 80 runners each week. Lately, though, it’s averaged closer 30 to 40 runners—at least when the heat isn’t suffocating.
Today’s workout welcomes about 25 runners.
“There are so many clubs now,” Wells said. “You have so many options. The fact that this many people show up still is awesome.”
As the group’s start time approaches, I ask a fellow runner if he’s been here before.
“Wrong person to ask,” Adam Mason Brink says. “This is my first time.”
“Why’d you decide on Sunrise?”
“I got out of bed this morning,” Brink replies, “and I asked ChatGPT, ‘What are the right run clubs to join this morning?’”
What a call, ChatGPT.
Brink and I end up running the mile warm-up together, where I learn the AI startup founder has done a little bit of everything in his life, including a few marathons.
Now 41, he’s been looking to recapture the high of his first 26.2-mile race.
“I could never figure it out after that one,” he said of his 3-hour and 7-minute PR in Des Moines.
At least I could relate—in three previous marathons, I had always blown up at about the 20-mile mark, too.


Next comes the morning’s instructions.
Wells blitzes through it like an auctioneer. “We’re doing 800s today. This was suggested, either 800s or 400s. And we decided to do 800s. You have four or six reps, 90 seconds to two minutes rest. Got it? Good.”
Without blinking, we all start walking toward the start line. Kara Huber, a 28-year-old communications professional, follows. She first came to Sunrise Track Club three years earlier, incentivized by nothing more than a curious desire. Then, she says, a habit formed. “I pretty much came every week, unless I was sick or out of town,” she said.
Somewhere in between the hundreds of workouts, Huber began hitting goals—a handful of PRs in the mile and half marathon. Her Thursday workout soon became non-negotiable.
“This is the one I’ll never give up,” she said.
I grab a quick swig of water, then make my way over to the start, which is about 80 meters away from the actual start linebecause the track is short. “It’s 324 meters,” Wells says, as if she read my mind.
“Who’s ready?” she says.
Like a drill sergeant, she starts corralling runners. “Who’s running 5:30 pace? You’re up.” “OK, 6:00? No one? I don’t believe that.”
Wells surely has done this before—she’s in the teaching profession, after all.
The workout begins.
Nearing 6:30 a.m., the sun is now climbing, creating an orange-red glow in the distance. Runners take mental pictures. The humidity hangs.
The first rep is easy—naturally, a false hope.
The next is harder—quickly, my heartrate climbs.
The third rotation around the track feels impossible.

Kara Huber joined Sunrise Track Club in 2023. She’s been a staple at the training group ever since. Photo Credit: Cory Mull/Austin Fit Magazine
This isn’t rocket science. Track workouts are hard. But hard is good.
Run groups are full of people with different skill sets and abilities. Sometimes, you might find one that feels a bit outside your norm—a bit performative, maybe a bit exclusive for the fast guys and girls.
But Sunrise is not that vibe. This is a judgement free zone.
You might see someone like Ryan Wojdyla, who runs with the ease of a deer, and think, am I out of place? But he’ll be quick to remind you that running in group settings isn’t always about being the best.
The 34-year-old has been coming to Sunrise Track Club since 2022. He didn’t really need to. He owned a marathon PR of 2 hours and 24 minutes and probably could easily spin off a sub-4:30 mile.
“I’m a big social community runner,” said Wojdyla, who might go to five run clubs in a given week. “But just being out there running with people, pace doesn’t matter for me.”
When Wells was pregnant with her first child, Wojdyla helped step up and lead the workouts, going outside his comfort zone on some days. “There’s always someone smiling at 6 a.m.,” he says. “And then just getting into the workout, it wakes you up.”
Miriam Ramos, though, took the majority share of those duties, scheduling plans and communicating with members every Thursday. That’s one reason why Wells and Ramos, a co-lead of the track group, remain close to this day.
Wells seconds that notion.
“I wanted this space to be super inclusive,” she says. “I think that’s the nice thing about the track. We’re running in circles. You’re not going to be left behind.”
Back at the workout, I’m on my last rep.
It’s what you would imagine out of a final rep: a slowly intensifying run that feels like a crawl and then ends in a sprint (although it probably still looks like a crawl).
By now, sweat is pouring out of me.
But it’s in these important moments when you realize why you’re out here in the first place: because you can, because you did, and because you needed to.
There’s a natural shine to a successful track workout—that brilliant moment when you complete the hard thing.
People will tell you this is endorphins.
Or maybe it’s just your body’s way of telling you how much of a bad ass you are.
Oh yeah, and that morning sun still looks incredible.