I couldn’t go for a run without strangers shouting at me

Huffing and puffing, I subconsciously prepare myself for the shouting.

Usually when I pound the pavement near my home in south east London, I receive everything from nasty jibes about the size of my bum to glowing, but unsolicited, reviews of my boobs. 

But not today.

Today is Saturday and I can breathe an audible sigh of relief as I realise that, instead of hearing the words ‘nice tits!’ screeched at me, I’ll hear cheers like: 

‘You’re doing great!’, ‘Brilliant running!’ and the ubiquitous, ‘You’ve got this!’

I can run freely without fear of being heckled, harassed, humiliated or worse – and that’s all thanks to parkrun.

When I first started running back in 2020 it was out of sheer desperation to get out of the house during lockdown. 

I felt cooped up and sluggish working from home – I had two young children jumping all over me and, after a lifetime of never enjoying exercise, I suddenly craved the freedom that comes from getting outside and moving your body.

Nobody was more shocked than me when I whizzed through the Couch to 5K programme and, for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of achievement from exercise. 

It helped that the streets were largely deserted during the pandemic, giving me the time, space and peace to slowly but surely, become a more confident runner. 

But it wasn’t long before I received my first heckle. 

By June 2020 I had worked my way up to longer distances. Towards the end of an 8K run, a few minutes from home and with the roads now much busier than they had been a few weeks before, I caught the attention of some idiots in a white van. 

It was a warm morning and so, with their windows wound down, they slowed their van to shout at me, ‘Keep it up, fatty!’.

It was humiliating. I felt like my bubble had burst.

I gave them the finger and then finished my run – my cheeks now red not just from the exertion but from shame too. 

Luckily, it only made me more determined to keep on running. 

Sadly, I learned this type of behaviour wasn’t, and isn’t, uncommon. Apparently, 60% of female runners have experienced some form of harassment while out running – typically from men in cars. 

Once the initial embarrassment of my first jeer had worn off though, the words inspired me to do two things. 

Firstly, to start Keep It Up Fatty!, my newsletter about fitness and body image. But also to seek out places to run where I could do my thing while feeling safe and supported.

Over the years I’d heard a bit about parkrun through some of my friends and relatives on social media but, as running was never an interest in the past, I hadn’t paid much attention. 

However things were different now. So, as soon as my local events started up again post-pandemic, I registered online.

Luckily, I live in an area that’s saturated with events. In fact, I had a choice of six parkruns within a couple of miles of my house. Curious, I decided to read all the course descriptions and even watched YouTube videos of people running them, so that I would feel prepared. 

As a slow to mediocre runner, I still had some nerves about running alongside other people for the first time. What if I got in someone’s way? Or annoyed the organisers by being so slow? 

I needn’t have worried though. As soon as I rocked up to my first timer’s welcome in September 2021, I knew I’d found my happy place. 

At first, I tried a few of them out, including Beckenham Place Park (pretty, but hilly!), Dulwich (famed for attracting some seriously speedy types due to its flat, fast course) and my nearest and now favourite, Catford. 

Every parkrun I’ve been to has had a welcoming crowd, but Catford felt like the most friendly and inclusive of the lot – plus the park cafe had the best coffee and pastries.

It was amazing to be running alongside a diverse but like minded group of people, with none of the issues that can come from running on the roads. Namely, no cars, vans or abusive idiots.

By the end of my first parkrun, I’d received so many encouraging words from all the volunteers that it boosted my confidence. I instantly knew that parkrun would become a staple of my weekly exercise routine and something I’d be way more excited about each week than those solo road runs.

Since then, I’ve run 72 times, volunteered 28 times and attended 21 different parkrun locations. 

For those doing the maths, that’s 350km of running where I haven’t been cat-called or sworn at by men. And if I don’t miss another parkrun this year, I’ll hit 100 at Christmas. 

In fact, it has given me such a taste for running with other people that I’ve since run the London Marathon, as well as multiple half-marathon and 10K events – it’s all down to parkrun.  

I’ve also made new friends, dragged old ones along, and met up with family members at events across the country from Bradford to Bromley.

Most importantly, I’ve never felt anything but welcome, happy and, crucially, safe.

Admittedly, I still run at other times throughout the week, and when I do, despite living in a busy enough area that I usually feel physically safe – though I never run in the dark – I often have to keep my guard up.   

I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why some men seem to find it absolutely hilarious to humiliate women who’ve decided to do something as innocuous as lace up their trainers and go for a jog outdoors.

Perhaps they’re intimidated because we’re putting ourselves out there, doing something hard and healthy, when they’re not. 

Or maybe it’s simply because we’re alone, usually smaller than them, and therefore vulnerable.

Either way, my choice to wear shorts or form-fitting leggings is never a brazen invitation for leering. It’s just normal activewear.

I’m thankful that, at 43, I’m pretty confident in my skin. But I know far too many women who only run on tedious treadmills because they’re worried about everything from feeling self-conscious in shorts to getting mugged, raped or murdered. 

I can’t say I blame them. As well as cat-calls, I’ve been physically blocked by a man who was seemingly on drugs while I ran along an old railway line on a sunny Sunday morning. And almost every other woman I know who goes running has a similar story or 10.

Running clubs can therefore be a great solution.

While they’re not always at the most convenient time of day – especially if you happen to have kids – parkrun, in my opinion, is the exception. Nine-AM on a Saturday? Ideal.

Now, every time a woman comments on my newsletter or DMs me on social media, telling me they’re nervous about running, I encourage them to try parkrun.

Instead of keeping an eye and an ear out for any potential wrong’uns lurking behind trees, all they need to worry about is remembering a barcode.  

Plus, it’s a welcome chance to get outside, exercise and appreciate our many beautiful green spaces – the woodier of which I wouldn’t necessarily feel confident venturing into alone, for fear of getting lost and making myself vulnerable.  

Should it have to be this way? Absolutely not.

It makes me furious that women need to choose between road running in a busy area – where we could be verbally abused but are likely safer from being physically attacked – or going out in more isolated spots that offer tranquility but a potentially greater risk to our personal safety.

But since this unfairness is unlikely to change any time soon, parkrun has become the highlight of my week.

I love knowing that I can head somewhere on a Saturday morning and be surrounded by like-minded people of all ages, genders, shapes and sizes – including plenty of lovely, non-dodgy men – and just run.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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