Uncivil attention

If you were asked to draw a walking route from your local station to your favourite restaurant, what route would you choose? The fastest? The most scenic? The most well-lit? Would your answer depend on time of day and who you were with? These considerations are part of the everyday route planning process of women runners like me.

Save for trying to pluck out your weary supporters in the midst of an eagle-eyed crowd six-deep at Tower Bridge on London Marathon morning, most people don't take up running to attract attention. Yet as a female runner, unwanted and illicit interest from the public is a given. Harassment comes hand in hand with the mud and windswept hair on an average run on the paths of Britain.

I am a Psychology MSc (conversion) student, currently 10 years into a Geography career. The two disciplines are inherently connected. For example, both Geography and Psychology play key roles in the perception of climate change on meeting carbon emissions targets, the linkages between place and attachment, the influence of geography on identity, health inequalities across space, and how space is navigated. This intersection of disciplines recently got me thinking of how we each navigate the world around us. Do women navigate the city differently to men?

Hit like a headwind

My relationship with running gathered pace after signing up for my first half marathon back in 2013, aged 22. It escalated quickly. In a little over 10 years, running has taken me on a journey of 15 marathons, stretching from Budapest to Berlin, and Nottingham to North America. 'Why do you do it?', I am so often asked. I run for the euphoria, the exhilaration, the unexpected explosion of endorphins that still enchants every run. All of this exudes positivity and could make even the exercise-adverse amongst us jump up from the couch.

But it's not all smooth sailing and steady tailwinds. Bumps in the road, such as IT band injuries, should be expected as often as a shiny new personal best. What I didn't expect though, as a naïve and new member of the running brigade, was the public harassment I attracted whilst running. This revelation hit like a headwind you might encouter amongst the gusty sand dunes of Gran Canaria or along the waterfront of the 'Windy City'.

As a Geographer and in-training Psychologist, it got me asking: Why does this happen? Where does it happen? When does it happen? Who else does it happen to? Is it unique to the UK? Recent research completed by Dr Caroline Miles and Professor Rose Broad at The University of Manchester found that 68 per cent of women in their survey had experienced abuse while running: being heckled, wolf-whistled, followed, having things thrown at them. Similarly, a study of runners in London by Eva Brockschmidt and Joss Wadey found 84 per cent of women have experienced street harassment whilst on a run.

Reflecting on my own experiences, I remember an early morning run around the leafy lanes of Cheshire in 2021 where I was verbally intimidated by an oncoming stranger. With the endorphins exchanged for adrenaline, the nervous system triggered, I completed another loop in the sadistic hope I would see him again. Why? Perhaps it was disbelief of my first encounter, or perhaps it was the fight response furiously activating. By then, he'd crossed to the other side. But he clocked me, and the barrage of abuse reignited with the addition of spitting directed towards me. I carried on running until I reached Tesco Express. Safety at last. I stopped. I took my phone out to call for safety. But he caught up. The abuse continued, but instead of calling for safety, I started filming him. This bolstered a false sense of empowerment in me. It didn't stop until they were firmly inside Tesco. Crying but fuelled by adrenaline, I carried on running, vented my anger at close family and friends, the men of which were unaware of this problem, and hadn't mentioned it since.

Historic norms still have legs

Women who run are unique. Women who walk do experience harassment, but I would argue it is curtailed. To understand why this might be, I needed to dig deep into the archives of peer-reviewed literature surrounding social traditions.

The bodily form that running takes is unacceptable according to historic norms (in Erving Goffman's terms). These norms still persist today. The archaic 'rules' of private versus public bodily display do not allow for a sweating, panting, heavy breathed woman wearing little or tight clothing in a socially open activity. Women runners are therefore misaligned with 'feminine ideals' placed upon them. Perhaps this leads some to feel they should therefore be called out.

Furthermore, the act of running is witnessed by outsiders to be an unserious, playful activity and, therefore, the harassment received should be treated as such. Yet these same 'rules' don't appear to apply to men as much as they do to women. The civil inattention afforded by women to men who run is not afforded by all men to women who run. Public places, and therefore street harassment, still has a gendered dimension today in 2024 as much as they did in the 1960's.

Given the mental health and wellbeing benefits of outdoor exercise are well documented, and organisations such as the NHS prescribe 'Couch-to-5k' as part of obesity and low mood programmes, we need to understand the extent of street harassment across society, its impact, and most importantly, how to prevent acts of harassment being committed in the first place. The research in Manchester found that only 5 per cent of women reported harassment to police; perhaps because it's become normalised, an everyday occurrence of harassment. If women were to report every case to the police, they wouldn't have time to go for a run. A second reason is the psychological strain required: 'Will I be laughed at?', 'Will anything actually be done?' Another possible explanation is victim blaming, either by the participants themselves or society. Regardless of lack of reporting, the rise in media coverage of the brutal and opportunistic murder of women who run is prominent. With that, the perception of fear amongst women runners is a stark reminder of the very real risks a woman takes to go on a run.

Changing the narrative

So how do we change the narrative? First, a full and complete understanding across different cultures, geographies and environments must be understood by drawing together the disciplines of psychology, geography, sociology and criminology. Once we have this broad understanding, we can direct our attention to education. This is all part of reducing violence against women and girls more broadly, and intervention at school-age would surely be a suitable place to start. Second, we can encourage our friends who are runners to report their experiences to police. And with this, perhaps, one day, we can run where we want to run, dressing in the clothes of our choosing, and without the need to tell another person where we are going and when we should be home.

There is a marathon ahead of us to achieve this, but each small step to change the narrative on this uncivil attention will move us further to the ultimate finish line of zero public harassment on the streets of Britain.

Jade Fawcett MSc BSc(Hons) CGeog(GIS) 

MSc Psychology Conversion, part-time first year