Month: July 2014

Week 15: racing and recovery

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After doom and gloom last week, I have a more positive post this week.

I had what’s hopefully going to be my last physio appointment this week, and got the nod that it was OK to start cautiously upping my distance again. After a long stretch of only being able to run a couple of miles at a time, this feels like great news.

It was also good timing too, as I was signed up for a 5k this weekend – the Gloanna yoga run. It was a good run as it happened: it was a short course and I ran with some lovely friends. There was a yoga class, cava and sushi afterwards, which was great way to round it all off.

The next event on my calendar is Dingle Half Marathon, which is in seven weeks time. I’m not very confident that I’m going to be able to do it – seven weeks isn’t very long to get from running 3 miles to running 13 miles, especially given that I need to be cautious about over-reaching and ending up injured again. On the other hand, I know I’m capable of the distance and I’ve been doing lots of other cardio so I’m still pretty fit, so I’m going to have a crack and see how I feel in a few weeks time.

Week 14: running, sexism and street harassment.

From Hollaback! Des Moines

I wish I didn’t feel like I have to write this blog post, but I do. This is about running, sexism and street harassment.

I know plenty of men get abuse when they’re running too, and I don’t want to discount that, but I’m going to write specifically about the sexist abuse that I get as a woman who runs. (I get it when I’m walking too, but it’s far more common while running.)

Firstly, I’d like to give you an idea of the kind of stuff I’m talking about:

  • Physical abuse, including having mystery cups of liquid thrown over me and having my bum smacked. This doesn’t happen often – three incidents in three years of running.
  • Verbal abuse, which tends to be a variation on one of three main riffs: ‘I do/don’t want to have sex with you’; ‘Smile’; ‘You’re fat’. If I don’t respond in favourable way to the riffs, I get the chorus: ‘Bitch.’ Something like this happens to me about once or twice a month. There have also been some more severe incidents, including a borderline rape threat that left me feeling shaken for days.
  • It always comes from men. (This isn’t hyperbole.)
  • There’s no obvious common thing linking these men – they seem to come from a wide range of backgrounds and age groups, as far as I can judge from the brief encounters I have with them anyway.

I’ve complained about this a lot since I started running, and most people are sympathetic and supportive. A few people have tried to tell me that street harassment isn’t sexist, which I find infuriating. The harassers are male, and the harassment always focuses on the fact that I’m a woman, on my body, and on whether or not the abuser finds me sexually attractive. If that’s not sexist, what is?

Most women experience street harassment, whether they run or not. But as I mentioned, in my experience, it’s far more common if you run. Why? Maybe running makes us more noticeable and more of a target? Because we’re likely to run alone? Because we spend more time on the street and therefore are more exposed to it?

I think another factor is that to a misogynistic or sexist man there’s something threatening about a woman who runs. A woman who runs is doing something strong, physical and independent with her body. To these men, women are meant to be weak, passive, dependent. A strong, physical, independent woman upsets the balance, makes them feel weaker and off-centre on a sub-conscious level. So they try make that woman feel intimidated or threatened, that her body has no value other than being sexually attractive, that they have a right to dominance over her.

Pseudo-psychology aside, I hate it. I hate that it upsets me. I hate the idea that it might put other women off running. I hate that I didn’t call the police in the case of the most severe incidents. I hate that people tell me to ignore it.

Most of the time, I swear at these men and keep running. But I worry that meeting aggression with aggression like this might get me into a worse situation one day. I’m trying to limit myself to a more moderate ‘Not cool, bro.’ I might even get some cards like the one in the image above, or the ones from Stop Street Harassment to hand out, but that would involve getting a bit closer to them than I’d really like.

I’d like other people to do something about it too. It it happens to you, or if you see it happening to someone else, call it out. These men are a small but vocal minority; us normal, decent women and men outnumber them, but it doesn’t feel like it if we don’t speak out.

Maybe if we all speak up, we can help them see that this isn’t OK, and collectively shame them into stopping.