When I was 25 or so and
lived in England, right about the time the dinosaurs walked the
earth, I entered my first race. It was a fun run called Race for
life, the participants of which raised money for Breast Cancer
Research. I was green as the first leaves of spring, and it was a
daunting task to train for, and finally run, the 5 km around the city
park.
I did 3 such fun runs in
England, then quit running for a long time (you can read all about
how I started running here and here). Yesterday's Vår Ruset brought
back memories. The anticipation, the crowds, the sense that this was
more like a party and less like a race. Unlike Race for Life, the
money from Vår Ruset don't go to charity. Otherwise, there are many
similarities. Among others, that it is a race just for women.
I ran with a friend from
work, for whom this was the first race. She's good at running and
takes it seriously, so we kept a pretty good pace together
throughout, although I had to take a couple of walking breaks to give
my knee some rest. Then I would run fast to catch up with her,
zigzagging among the walkers and the joggers. Either we were too
pessimistic in our own running ability when we picked the ”running”
group and not the ”running fast” one to start in, or everyone
else in the group was too optimistic, because moving forward was real slow
going (first 500 metres took more than 4 minutes). Still, my friend and I raced each other the last hundred
metres and sprinted past the finish line.
I was happy. My knee played up a bit a couple of times (hence the walking breaks) but
otherwise it held much better and longer than I had expected, and
there was no pain, not yesterday and not this morning
(Göteborgsvarvet is a GO!). I was proud to see my friend run so well
and glad that she enjoyed it so much, and hoped that she will
continue to think running is fun. But the whole situation left a bad
taste in my mouth.
I don't want to sound
snobbish, because, after all, a fun run is how it all started for me.
Maybe Vår Ruset is how it starts for a lot of these women who ran
yesterday. But I personally felt out of place, and it wasn't because I was the only one wearing a Garmin or VFF as far as the eye
could see, no; you don't need gadgets to be a runner. It's how the
whole concept of races like this is aimed at women. At making it
cosy, with picnic blankets and pink T-shirts dominating your optical field,
and no pesky men around except the funny ones that put a
dress and a wig on in order to be able to participate. This is girls'
night out, but in spandex. And without the cocktails (or maybe I missed them?).
I bet they're men. |
I overheard someone
saying that she thought it was so cosy that it was just women running
this. I don't know what reasons she had to say that. I don't even
think I can formulate why it makes me feel so uncomfortable to hear
women say that. The year is 2012 and we've supposedly come a long way from the time
women weren't allowed to participate in sports, and
then we go and segregate ourselves voluntarily. But I think that my
biggest problem is not that it's just for women, but that the whole
thing is so...sloppy. It's as if it's ok to not take it seriously,
because who cares? It's just for women. No timekeeping. No official results. A
very short distance (4,2 km – not even a 5K). Just cosiness, music,
hanging out. And, because it's so cosy and short (and there are no
competitive men around making you look bad), you don't even have to
exert yourself. Don't push yourself, little girl, you might get
tired!
He gets the medal. Because this was a race for women and he's a pussy-cat. |
It serves a good purpose,
of course. It brings women together. It gets women who otherwise
might have spent the evening on the sofa to get out there and move
their asses. And it was fun (and nothing wrong with that). But I just can't accept that this
means that we don't have to take the whole thing seriously. The cynic in me
screams ”marketing ploy” and weeps for the 290 Swedish crowns I
paid that went to who knows whose pockets just for some light
entertainment, when what I'd really hoped for was a race. In other
words, I have outgrown this. Bring me tjejmarathon instead, a real
ultra-challenge for women who don't just want the cosiness factor,
for women who aren't afraid to test their limits, a serious
race. Or at least lemme see a race just for men who
want to jog around 4 km, have a picnic afterwards and gossip with
their friends. What's that? Is there no market for it?! Come on, girls, you can do better than this. Crave more from race organisers.
Take yourselves seriously. Don't settle for cosy.
Jag håller helt med dig!Det ska vara så "snällt" och mysigt men jag vet inga lopp som är så fulla av vassa armbågar och puttande som på just "tjejlopp". Och allt för många ställer sig i helt fel startgrupp. Tokspringer i typ 200m och sen tvärstopp.
ReplyDeleteÄtas ska det också. Före, under tiden och efter. Som om det vore 3 maratonlopp på raken.
Galet...
Men visst, tanken är bra och säkert får det någon ur soffan men hur länge varar det?
Härligt att det kändes bra för dig!:-) Go girl!
Härligt att knät höll!!:)
ReplyDeleteJag spenderar somrarna i England, och har sprungit race 4 life flera ggr:) Det är verkligen ett roligt event, och bra att pengarna går till välgörenhet. Däremot har jag faktiskt gått dit för att "tävla" också, hehe. Och för att få ett rejält snabbdistanspass:)
Race for life har ju antligen börjat att introducera lopp som herrar oxå får vara med på, och inte bara tjejlopp. Jag tycker att det är otroligt töntigt att bara ha lopp för tjejer!
Jag håller helt med dig. Tycker att Vår Ruset (och motsvarigheten Nice Run här i Finland, med exakt samma koncept) känns fel. Jag kan förstå att det känns som att tröskeln är lägre för många och att de därför vågar anmäla sig till ett lopp, men jag ser inte varför vanliga lopp ska framställas som så farliga och jobbiga? Det kan vara kul att springa ett "riktigt" lopp också och man måste inte krossa mållinjen med blodsmak i mun där heller. Hmm, jaa, jag skulle kunna skriva en uppsats...
ReplyDelete