In 2016, Swedish Erik Ahlström grabbed a garbage bag and went for a run through Stockholm. This marked the beginning of a movement now present in over 50 countries. The name 'plogging' (Plogga) was coined by co-founder Karina Svensson, combining Swedish 'plocka upp' (to pick up) and English 'jogging'.
In June 2026, Ahlström visited Tashkent as an eco-ambassador for the Samarkand Marathon series, organized by the Uzbekistan Foundation for the Development of Culture and Arts.
Before plogging, Ahlström was known in the trail running world, having organized sports events in Sweden for over 30 years, including the Kebnekaise Classic Alpine ski tournament, the Åre Extreme Challenge multisport race, and the 24-hour Sweden Sky Race ultramarathon.
Ahlström's habit of collecting trash began in the small ski village of Åre in northern Sweden, where he lived for nearly 20 years. While walking his son to school, he would pick up any litter he encountered. Gradually, he organized community clean-ups, and over 20 years, the village transformed noticeably. When he moved to Stockholm, a city of two million, the difference was stark.
In the capital, Ahlström continued running with a garbage bag, now joined by friends. 'It was like a treasure hunt. We ran and laughed. Seeing us, people wanted to join,' he recalls.
One day, Ahlström photographed his 'haul' and posted it on social media. The post sparked great interest, with people joking and suggesting names for the new sport. The idea gained traction, supported by major sports brands. Dozens of local groups formed in Sweden, and international media picked up the story. Plogging gradually spread beyond Sweden's borders.
According to the movement's founder, the main barrier to plogging is not physical fitness but stigma. In many cultures, picking up litter, especially left by others, is considered shameful.
'This feeling exists almost everywhere. In many cultures, it's seen as not your job, but someone else's. But if you start doing it with a smile and tell people what you're doing, the stigma disappears. Doing it in a group makes it much easier,' says Ahlström.
Plogging is supported by major brands like Ericsson. Ahlström believes it's not just about image. 'Ericsson works with us worldwide – I've met their teams in Bogotá, Mexico City, Delhi. They are genuinely passionate and proud to support a Swedish movement as a Swedish company,' he says.
However, not all stories are positive. Once, a plogger cleaning up with a major Swedish tech company opened their corporate fridge. 'The fridge was full of disposable plastic containers, cups, and takeout food. It felt strange – like their participation was superficial. They just had a budget for such events and spent it,' recalls Ahlström.
Ahlström notes that every country he has visited has a litter problem. But what surprised him most is that in countries without established recycling systems, 'people are sometimes more engaged in the process than in places with all the facilities.'
In India, where Ahlström spent three weeks, there is virtually no centralized waste management. Yet in some villages, people have started separating organic waste and composting it on-site. According to Ahlström, this method works: food waste doesn't mix with other trash and returns to the earth.
He shared a similar story from Zimbabwe, where locals gathered on the beach at 6 a.m. to dance and celebrate. Together with ploggers, they cleaned a plastic-choked shoreline.
'In Japan, the approach is different – there are no trash bins on the streets. People who buy a bottle of water know they must take it home and sort it. They buy not just the contents but the entire life cycle of the product,' he continues.
Uzbekistan has a tradition of 'hashar' – communal clean-ups where residents tidy yards, streets, and neighborhoods. One might think the problem would solve itself if people are willing. However, Ahlström draws a line between a one-time event and a daily habit. He argues that desire alone is not enough – education, personal responsibility, and constant visible examples are needed.
Ahlström cites New York City in the 1980s as an example. At the time, crime was rampant, and the subway was dirty and dangerous. Instead of just increasing police presence, transit authorities focused on maintenance: workers daily scrubbed graffiti from cars, repaired seats, and replaced broken lights. No train left the depot dirty. Gradually, the crime situation improved, and residents began to value their city more. This experience is often linked to the broken windows theory: if one broken window is not replaced, soon none will remain. Disorder breeds disorder, and cleanliness breeds cleanliness.
Ahlström called Tashkent one of the cleanest cities among the 46 countries he has visited, but admitted that the trash bins are too small and quickly overflow. People leave bags next to them, and wind and birds scatter the litter. He says infrastructure is important, but above all, people's behavior must change.
'The cleanest cities are not those that are cleaned the most, but those where people litter the least,' he states confidently.
In Uzbekistan, Ahlström ran with the Tashkent Ploggers community. Participants moved in a chain: some collected bottles, others removed caps, and still others sorted trash into different bags. After the Bukhara Night Race, 16 kilograms of plastic were collected and sent to the local Ecojon Lab workshop for recycling. The melted material was used to make medals for plogging participants. Each medal was unique – 16 caps were needed for one medal.
Ahlström admitted he had never seen such organized waste sorting during a run anywhere else.
He annually participates in the World Plogging Championship, held in small Italian towns and villages. Teams from different countries run for several hours collecting trash, and at the finish line, the potential environmental harm of the collected waste is assessed, not the distance covered. For example, a battery is more dangerous than a plastic bottle because it contaminates the soil.
The plogging founder expressed a desire to hold such a championship in Uzbekistan. Any running event – Zaamin Ultra, the Samarkand Marathon, or Bukhara Night Race – could serve as a basis. Participants run as usual but pick up trash along the way, comparing their 'haul' at the finish.
'If a person picks up something from the ground at least once, they begin to see the environment differently. They litter less themselves and become an example for others,' he concluded. And added: 'Run, but run with a purpose.'
Source: www.gazeta.uz