Getting Heckled While Running

“Run, Forrest, run!” is a refrain I’ve heard more times than I can count. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard it while running through Baltimore or anywhere, I would have hundreds of dollars. I have been heckled quite a lot while running, particularly where I live, and a common refrain is someone telling me, “Oh man! I need to be doing what you’re doing!” or “I need to be running with you!” Sometimes it’s accompanied by the person running with me or my group for a block before wishing us well. This is a more positive heckling that is motivating and inspirational.

Most people leave me alone and go about their own business, but I occasionally get heckled. The other day, I ran 10 miles around mile-long loops filled with stores and restaurants. Due to my schedule, I have to do some runs at night, so this particular loop is a favorite of mine since the stores are closed, and there are other people often walking and exercising with the same idea, or young adults and teenagers hanging out with their friends. It is well-lit, safe, and generally peaceful at night.

That day, every time I ran past a car of teenagers, they yelled at me. I had my AirPods in, so I couldn’t always hear what was said, and usually gave a thumbs-up or just ignored them. Eventually, however, they started matching my exact speed while I was on the sidewalk, while two teenagers started yelling at me, saying, “Yeah, man! You’re so sexy!” and “Let’s go, baby!” One of them popped his head out of the car and made cheering hand gestures. This happened for at least three minutes. I kept my AirPods in and occasionally turned the sound down so I could hear what they were saying.

I didn’t quite sense any danger. No, I cannot outrun a car, but there were enough areas I could cut through and there were woods. If there were danger, I would be confident in my ability to outrun anyone who could chase me. But these were just kids being kids. I found it annoying, but I gave a thumbs-up and smiled. After a couple minutes, they left me alone.

But it reminded me of all the more negative encounters.

In my first year of moving to Baltimore, I would do a lot of runs at night, and also on hot, humid days. I would take my shirt off, and like many runners, I would run in short shorts. One day, a kid on a bike, who didn’t seem older than 12 or 13 years old, rode alongside me and said “Do you know how fucking gay you look right now?” Fortunately, the kid went back to hanging out with his friends and left me alone after telling me “how fucking gay” I looked, but it led me to reflect deeply. Despite being a happily married straight man, I felt unsettled by this encounter and thought about what my gay friends go through. He was just a kid, but he wasn’t just born homophobic — he learned it from somewhere.

I am a teacher in an urban school district. I have heard homophobic slurs from a few students because I don’t fit more traditional conceptions of masculinity, and I keep very calm and cool when I’m disrespected in front of people. However, I hear them more often when I am running, especially with shorter-length shorts, and hear the f-word more often than is ideal. Again, I try to remind myself that more often than not, this is learned behavior rather than hate, particularly from children. That does not make it okay, but on this particular run, it was a reminder that I needed to be more cautious about my surroundings and careful.

Sometimes, traffic encounters in a city like Baltimore are significantly worse than any of my experiences getting heckled, especially early in the morning or at night. It’s the risk you assume running at certain times of the day, but in one instance, I was about to cross the street about two seconds before a car was about to come to a stop sign. Stupidly, I thought the driver, like most, would stop at the stop sign, and I had the right of way. The driver did not stop — I swerved as far out of the way as I could.

The driver did not slow down at all. I saw a woman outside her car who was watching the whole encounter, so at least I had a witness if I had to go to the hospital and bring a personal injury lawsuit, but fortunately, disaster was averted and I shook my head. I was rattled by this particular encounter, but realized this was another day in the life of being a runner in a major city. Every biker I know has gone through something like this, and those with families and kids have stopped biking in the city altogether.

I understand I don’t deal with this as much as women, and the women I run with have to be a lot more careful about their safety and the experience of being heckled. One running coach advises women runners to prioritize their safety by notifying someone of their route, changing route and start times, carrying safety devices, and not wearing headphones.

But the heckling is more common on solo runs. With a group, it’s harder to do and we are left alone a lot more often. I run through every part of the city, and not just the bougie parts. I understand why runners may not be the most popular people — I have written before about how long-distance running in America is very white and how there is a lack of diversity in the sport. My observation is this is changing and the running space and people who engage in running for their fitness journeys have grown a lot more diverse, which is a very good thing.

However, there could be a class divide with running still. Running is an expensive sport, contrary to popular belief. Running shoes cost a lot of money, races and marathons can cost hundreds of dollars, and travel can be expensive. So I understand that runners and bike lanes can be a harbinger of gentrification and outsiders intruding on a community they seem to not belong.

I moved to a suburban development right across the street from the city border in the past year and a half. Even there, people are not used to runners. Cars reign supreme. People are not used to stopping for pedestrians and the stop sign at the four-way intersection I live on is commonly ignored. I have to be very, very careful of any street crossings, and that is why I think I was a dumbass for assuming, in that one particular instance, that the car would stop at the stop sign. I think it is also stupid that I wear my AirPods so often while running, but I need some stimulation on my solo runs.

I acknowledge I’m not blameless and can be part of the problem in a community that is not used to runners. When I started running in the city, I passed people, but they would get spooked and gasp. One person commented they thought my friend and I were about to rob or assault him.

These encounters have led us to give pedestrians significantly more space when we pass. I cross the street any time I’m about to pass someone or try to maintain at least a six-foot distance. Still, on faster workouts and runs, I can spook someone when I pass them, particularly if I’m running in the evening or early in the morning.

Being heckled as a runner, and having cars that can kill you at any time with very little regard for your safety, are all reminders that the burden, unfortunately, is on us as runners. We cannot trust that someone we pass by will leave us alone or that a car is going to stop for us. I may have just been naïve and, of course, privileged not to be a woman.

There is a sense, among many people, that runners or bikers assume the risk by engaging in their exercise outside. I have heard this from frustrated drivers, including friends. I think that’s a ludicrous notion, but I understand that attitudes take a long time to change and this is just the world as it is.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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