Everyone Deserves To Move Freely

Today I went for a lunchtime run. But despite the beautiful weather and quieter than usual streets of Central London, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of guilt. A sense that not everyone gets to experience this level of freedom.

This week, the news has been particularly poignant with stories highlighting how toxic masculinity is still as familiar a spectre as it always has been. Sarah Everard’s disappearance has sent shockwaves across the UK with hundreds of women coming forward to recount stories of harassment and assault whilst out minding their business. Sarah was simply walking home from a friends house before she was last seen.

This comes just two weeks after the BBC reported that female runners have faced increased abuse and sexual harassment while exercising alone in lockdown.

As I ran across Millennium Bridge this afternoon I was more aware than ever of the pounding of my trainers on the metal walkway and how this could make somebody uncomfortable as I neared to overtake. I made extra effort to keep myself to myself and make more space for anybody I passed. All whilst thinking I am one of the fortunate ones.

I have never been catcalled on a run, I have never been taunted and I have never been attacked or assaulted. I feel almost embarrassed to say I usually experience a feeling of freedom, and mindfulness, and escapism. But for so many who go about their daily routines doing exactly the same things I do, this isn’t the case. According to England Athletics, a third of female runners have experienced harassment while exercising alone. A quick scroll through Twitter right now gives you an idea of how real and common it is for women to get abused by men whilst out minding their own business.

This also comes a couple of weeks after the one year anniversary of Ahmaud Arbery’s murder in which he was out in the light of day, on his usual run before he was shot.

For the lucky portion of us that don’t experience this level of hatred when we’re out alone, we men need to do everything possible to afford other people the same privileges we are lucky to have. That sense of freedom. That space to be alone, uninterrupted. And that feeling of security. If that means crossing a road if you suspect you might be making somebody uncomfortable, taking more care to pass without startling people, and making sure you’re actively holding those you know to the standards of respect everybody is entitled to, it’s the very minimum we should be doing.