The fear of running as a female runner.
As a female runner, the fear of running is a real problem, one that most female runners have faced many times in their life. It’s not the fear of injury or sickness, it is the fear of the unknown, the fear of unwanted attention, the fear of being targeted and attacked.
That was my run today.
We went to Nashville, TN for a celebration weekend for my daughters graduation celebration. Of course, I am not going to skip my runs. I got up early each day to get out for a run before anyone got out of bed so as not to disrupt the celebration or have my runs be an inconvenience for the plans. Afterall, this weekend was not about me and the miles I needed to log, it was for my daughter, her achievements, and her celebrations.
So, I got up early each morning and ran the streets of Nashville. It was navigational but it was a headache each day with the numerous redlights, and stops I had to endure for safely navigating the downtown streets.
However, today I found a greenway path. No traffic lights, no cars, and no thought about getting run over. Yet, there was a different kind of fear, the kind of fear that often causes me to turn off my music, listen to my surroundings, and to constantly look over my shoulder – the fear of being in the presence of a dangerous attacker – rapist, kidnapper, or worse, a murderer.
I will share that this was not always a fear for me, I once believed that I was not one of those girls that would have bad things happen to them while running. I thought I took all the safe precautions. Running neighborhoods, busy streets, or paths that I thought other good-hearted runners ran.
But I also ran with a bit of stupidity. The belief that the only time bad things happened to good people, was if it was just their time to go.
I truly thought my friends and family were crazy when they bought me pepper spray, brass knuckles, and all of the tactical gear available for runners.
These bad things only happened in the movies, right? Never to a surburban girl who was just out for a jog to relax, unwind, destress, and log a few miles for a goal she was trying to achieve…
All of that changed when I came face-to-face with a group of young men in my own neighborhood one evening just past dark who threatened to do some very explicitly bad things to me. I don’t want to relive all of the horrible details, but I will share that I was very lucky and …
I managed to avoid that attack; despite the fear I experienced in that moment and all the words that they were spitting at me about what they were about to do to me. I am lucky that not one of those men took the next step to come after me – had they gotten to me, I am not sure I would be here today to share my story today.
My husband even forbade me from running after this. Obviously, as a runner that was not going to stop me from running.
But that experience never left me.
I was forever changed. Running was never a safe place again…
It was looking over my shoulder, taking wide turns around corners, and running with fear instead of peace.
While I still believe when it is my time, I will be taken, I also now believe that there are things I can do to try to prolong my life as a runner.
So, I no longer believe bad things only happen in the movies, and I try to air on the side of caution so that I can enjoy another run again tomorrow.
So why? Why did I choose to take a path that I normally would not have taken. Especially today in a town that I don’t know, in a place that I knew my family was definitely going to be waiting on me to return to our rental unit. I honestly do not know this answer other than to say, I wanted to get away from the traffic lights, the constant stops, and just run the damn miles. TO just destress from the bar scene, not to be the woman in charge but instead the runner who just wanted to feel peace and serenity.
However, free was not something I felt. Not once – once I started down that damn greenway – it was fear. I felt the fear of being trapped, the fear of being unsafe, the fear of all the movies I have watched coming to life. I felt death was just around every corner.
Yet, I kept telling myself I was being stupid, and to just keep running.
The traffic on the greenway was light, and I rarely encountered other humans. Which would have been a blessing in my past life, but not since the “incident” that took my freedom of running away from me.
Now I felt fear.
On the few occasions I encountered another female I was totally thankful (they all were out walking big, gigantic dogs), and on the occasions that I encountered another male alone, I could feel the fear creep in, the thoughts of dread, the thoughts to stop, do not keep going, do not run past that man, turn around, go back. But again, telling myself that I am being insane.
As you are aware, nothing bad happened to me, as I am here writing this post about my stupid fear of running away from my run.
Out of fear, I only spent 4 miles on the greenway, 2 miles out and 2 miles back, and I was forever grateful to get back to the downtown traffic, stoplights, and stench of the stale beer lingering in the streets of the bar scene from the party life of the night before.
I did manage to finish my 7-mile run today and to walk away to write this post, but it was not peaceful, it was not quiet, and it was not without fear. It was a true running fear for many females, and for me today.
In closing, I always think that this sort of experience only happens to females, but I feel that this is again me being naive. This cannot just be a female experience. In my most vulnerable state, I ask you to share your story of the fear you feel while out running.
Every Damn Mile 