Keep Going...

I submitted this article to my trail running community, Trail Sisters, a few months back. Whle it was not published, I wanted to find a place for it to live. I don’t want to forget about the women who have lost their lives while simply doing an activity that they love.

It is all I can think of right now. How scared she must have been when it happened. If she thought of her children and her husband. If she was able to fight back. The last few nights I have woken up thinking of her and that it could have been me. As I write this, it’s been 3 days since they found Eliza Fletcher’s body. Like so many of us, she was out for a run, for some alone time, time to take care of herself while doing something that she loved. When a colleague told me about Eliza’s death, she also shared that an attempted attack on a woman running in a high traffic area happened minutes away from my downtown office, just that morning. When she shared these stories, I immediately felt anxiety and sadness and fear. What does this mean for our running community? What does this mean to me and the thing I love to do everyday?

I have gone through a series of emotions this week. I am angry. I am so angry that we cannot move through this world freely and without fear of being harmed in some way. That we must carry some device or spray or object to help us fight off a potential attacker. That I must attach some plastic whistle to my running vest so that if something happens, I might have the opportunity to use it and maybe someone will hear me.

I am frustrated, too. I am frustrated because some men in our lives will never understand how it feels to be looking out for questionable people while we are trying to relax and enjoy ourselves amongst the quiet and the trees. They will remind of us the statistics, that the likelihood of us getting harmed is very low. Runner’s World did a survey back in 2017 and found that 43 percent of women at least sometimes experience harassment on the run, just 4 percent of men. They noted that most cases are non-life-threatening. But still…the cat calls, the honks, the stares, the jokes – sometimes it is all just too much. I feel as though I must appease them to ensure my safety and to not upset them. “Smile and laugh, just smile and laugh and keep going.”

I am also sad and tired. I am tired of waking up at night worrying about my own daughter and if she will be able to move about the world in a safe and confident way. I am tired of going over and over the safe and unsafe touch talks with her (and my son) to be sure that she can tell me or her Dad or someone that she is being hurt.  I am sad that this will happen again. Maybe to someone I know. Maybe to someone that you know.

Recently, I watched a Youtube documentary that The North Face created about Stephanie Case and her program, Free to Run, for women living in Afghanistan. While in no way are we experiencing that level of risk while out for our runs, I can’t help but think that we have come so far in this country, how are women still experiencing this level of oppression and disrespect? It feels that in the last year our abilities as women to make our own choices continues to be put in jeopardy. What will happen to us next?

Acknowledging these feelings of anger and exhaustion is helpful to me. If I don’t sit with them and explore them and say them out loud then they will continue to take hold of me. These overwhelming feelings could eventually veer me of course from what I need – to run. If I don’t accept them then my chest will continue to feel tight, my heart rate high, and my shoulders hunched. Our bodies carry so much of this stress and fear. What better way to manage these feelings than to get out for a run.

Several of my running girlfriends have also felt this weight. These last few days of mourning our fellow runner friend Eliza, venting with them, and sharing our feelings has been validating to know that they are angry and tired as well. One kind friend offered to be out on the trail with me at the same time even if we are not running together. Another friend sent various ideas for safety. And yet another just simply checked in to see how I am coping with this; she knows how much I love to run.

With a long run coming up this weekend I am working hard to acknowledge these feelings, move through them so that I might find some peace. I must get back out there and not let the senseless tragedies of the world keep me from doing the things that mean the most. I am doing my best to channel the anger and sadness into empowerment and hope. I don’t have the words or vision quite yet to know what this will sound and look like but I do know that I have to keep moving – quite literally and figuratively.

The trail sisters community can be such a wonderful resource of love and support. It is relieving to know that this weekend while I am out on my run, there will be hundreds of other women out there with me too, in spirit. We can silently cheer each other on as we are vulnerable to this scary but beautiful world and to remember Eliza and the Afghan women who will never run again. Laces tied, stretches done, deep breath – let’s go.