Women should be able to run freely

This past summer, I experienced something many women encounter in their lives. When I was living in Minneapolis, part of my morning routine included running. Lacing up my shoes and stepping outside into the crisp summer air instilled a sense of confidence in me. I loved running around my new neighborhood and exploring different routes. I loved finding an upbeat running playlist and discovering new favorite songs. I felt powerful. I felt invincible.

One morning, I was running my usual route. I ran up Como Avenue and near Luther Seminary. I continued straight and stopped at the stop light. While running, I rejected any feeling of fear or anxiety. I kept both earbuds in and didn’t carry any protectant on me. I had never been bothered before, so why would this time be any different? But, as I stopped at the stoplight, I made eye contact with a man on a motorcycle. My gut immediately clenched. When the light turned green, the man catcalled and yelled derogatory statements at me. The statements were off-putting, but I ignored him and kept running.

My friends and I have experienced jeering from men before, and I didn’t want his comments to affect my running routine. As I turned into a neighborhood, I noticed the man had turned around and followed me. He pursued close behind me and continuously revved his engine. My fight or flight response was going haywire. I was tired and didn’t have any weapon on me to fight. After some last second thinking, I was able to turn onto a busier street. Under the pressure of the public eye, the man finally left me alone, and he stood up on his motorcycle and drove up the hill.

On Sept. 2, 2022, Eliza Fletcher was abducted from the University of Memphis campus. Her remains were found near a vacant house in Memphis on Sept. 5. An avid runner, an elementary teacher and a mother of two, Fletcher’s death is not the first high-profile case of violence against a woman who was exercising outdoors. Since 2016, Vanessa Marcotte (27), Karina Vetrano (30), Wendy Martinez (35), Mollie Tibbets (20) and Sydney Sutherland (25), to name a few, were all killed on their runs. After murderous incidents like these, a familiar sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Eliza could’ve been one of my friends. Vanessa could’ve been a running mate. Mollie could’ve been me.

A recent study conducted by St. Mary’s University, Twickenham found that a staggering 84% of women have experienced some form of harassment while out running. As women, we already tailor our running routines and apparel around the inherent risk of being outside and female. As women, we accept the responsibility of mitigating our personal risk in ways men don’t have to. Wear only one earbud (if any), don’t wear a sports bra, carry bear spray, run in the afternoon along a busy street, share your location and make sure to glance behind yourself often. And when women do snap back against catcalls, the response is often, “take a joke.”

Let’s make one thing clear: Catcalls are anything but a joke. Catcalls are a microaggression. Catcalls objectify and dehumanize women. When these behaviors are overlooked, they provide space for more significant and dangerous ones. A fundamental culture change is essential to ensure that women feel safe to move in public spaces. Attempts to make public spaces safe for women must actively include men as allies and agents for change.

So, how can men be agents of change? There are many difficult questions about how society can best intervene to make the running world safer for women. What I do know is that we must call on men to be better. Stand alongside us as we challenge the ways in which women are spoken about and spoken to. Call out your friends when a derogatory comment is made about a woman. Hear us when we say there’s nothing minor about microaggressions. Believe us when we confide in you and share our stories.

Since the summer, I try to avoid listening to my motivating playlist. I switch up my routes and watch the people around me. I cover up and avoid secluded trails and daybreak and dusk runs. But ladies, the responsibility does not all fall on us. Men, we’re not calling you out, we’re calling you in. Your friends, mothers, daughters and sisters need you to listen and speak up. Women shouldn’t be killed at the hands of others while doing what they love.