Running in the Dark: London and Beyond
- pwleonie
- Aug 21
- 5 min read
Updated: Aug 24
As an East London gal, I don’t usually run at dark. I used to, and I’ve always had the attitude that if someone tried something it would be their unlucky day. T&Cs Apply, result may vary, dont try this at home, haha. But let’s be real, I’d rather not increase my odds! When I did run at dark, those quiet corners felt like they belonged to me for a moment. Streets empty. City hushed. A handful of women out running, weren’t alone. They had a man on a bike alongside them. For good reason. This is London after all. London Taaan baby! And if you’re running at 4am, especially on a weekend, you will cross paths with the 'zombies', those half asleep, those half awake and the intoxicated.
I felt liberated after completing those runs and returning home safely, maybe because there’s a danger you’ve avoided by staying alert, or even completing the run entirely free of danger. It felt like a successful mission. But what is that danger, exactly? For me, it’s usually another man. For men, it’s probably other men… or animals. But come on, this is London. The real threats are foxes, off-lead dogs, a misstep on a kerb, or even a murder of crows. And I’m pretty sure “other men” would make their list too.
Out on trails it shifts. For men, it’s cliffs/drops, potholes, maybe wild animals if you’re abroad. For women? Still men.
Here’s the thing. The facts speak for themselves. In London, 84 percent of female runners say they’ve experienced street harassment* compared to 50 percent of men*. Thirty percent of women have been followed, either on foot or by vehicle*. Globally, 92 percent of women say they worry about safety when running*, with over half fearing physical attack*. For men, it’s just over a quarter*.
Let it marinate...
Case study.
The Speed Project. France and the U.S. The runs were endless, the views breathtaking. And in the middle of all that, you realise how much beauty this world has to offer. The landscapes, the variation, the sunsets. All that adventure waiting. But I digress.
Running through the desert into Vegas was wild. Surreal. The men were worried about rattlesnakes, coyotes, wild dogs. Valid worries.... some even got bitten. But for the women it was still the men.
There’s a saying. Not all men, but always a man. And that about sums it up. A lone car parked in the middle of the desert, miles from anything else, men sitting inside, raises questions. Were they resting? Were they waiting? Were they going to help or harm? I can’t take that risk. We can’t take that risk. It’s not paranoia. It’s survival instinct.
In France, running where you don’t speak the language adds another layer. You’re not just thinking about pace or form. You’re scanning the streets. Watching who is nearby. Checking for light. Wondering how you’d even explain yourself if something went wrong. And sometimes, trying to explain only makes things worse.
Then there was ASRA. A sister team, a Muslim all-women running crew who also took part in The Speed Project, France. At the same time, the hijab was being banned at the Olympics. Running in France with a hijab was not at the top of the list for many, but they did it anyway. Which added another level of fear and safety concern, because you don’t know how people will respond. This is not London, where everyone blends and mixes, where most people can be themselves. This is the south of France, where culture is one, diversity is limited, and right now being visibly Muslim is not in your favour.
And oh, baby, they did it. They made it to the finish line in Marseille. The emotion that swept through was tsunami-like. Yes, they were women, but Muslim women in hijabs running across France was something else. Phenomenal. A spectacle. All safe. All home. And in doing so, they paved the way for women to be fearless or better, to EMBODY fear and not to shy away, to take up space even when it doesn’t look like it was made for you. The message is powerful. It is rich. It has longevity. They made history. I witnessed it. It reminds me of one of my favourite quotes: “Still I Rise” — Maya Angelou.
Sidenote: and so will others, witness it. through mediums like photography. Sometimes it’s not enough to hear the story, you need to see to believe it. That’s why I love photography. In the realm of representation, you enrich the visual diet of kids and young adults, showing them people doing things in spaces they never considered, or are just imagining. You create new neural pathways. If the mind can see itself, it can do. Therefore, you contribute to something greater... butterfly effect! Ah, the bigger picture… always a picture. Sometimes a photograph. - Leonie Maya Isaac
In TSP, the only way to survive is to lean in; lean into fear, lean into resilience, lean into who you say you are.
YOUR TURN...
[INSTRUCTION: Embody Your Femininity, To Feel This Experience]
Picture it:
Torch off, pitch black.
Torch on, you can see maybe five metres ahead with a good headtorch.
You’ve got blind spots.
Your torch only illuminates where your head is facing. Everywhere else is a void, a nothingness. It might as well not exist until you look.
Dogs bark ahead, maybe another team has passed, maybe the dogs are just curious, maybe danger is closing in.
Running,...
you catch the smell of cigarette smoke.
But where is the human attached to it? Man, woman? Will I scare them? Are they following me?
You plod on, apprehensive for the next potential danger, almost, forgetting the last.
No music, you need to be alert.
Only baseline you’ve got is your BPM.
Nothing for another mile.
A car passes with blinding headlights. They see me, right? Scared? Drunk driver? A man who might find some interest?
Head straight. Keep running.
That example was road running, but on the trail, with potholes, cliffs, unpredictable terrain i.e quicksand, spiderwebs, gnats, the lot. You will meet yourself. TSP is a beast, a force that humbles and awakens.
Running in the dark will never feel the same for women as it does for men. The threats we carry in our heads, and sometimes in our hands, are different. But every time we step out; UK, France, Nevada, Vegas & and our front doors!
We are not just clocking miles. We are claiming space in a world that too often tells us not to.
Cheers to the girls!
Love,
Leonie x
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