Running While Black: Finding Freedom in a Sport That Wasn't Built for Us

by Alison Mariella Désir

I learned from a very early age that I am never just myself in white spaces; I must be aware of how whiteness sees me.

“As a Black woman, race has always been a prominent part of my life. I have never been able to escape the fact that I am a Black woman in a white supremacist country.”

There was the appearance of fitting in, but I had no sense of belonging.

fitting in is shaping yourself to try to match the space or people around you.

Belonging is being embraced and valued as your authentic self.

“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.”

“I move, I am a movement. I lift and carry sisters I am most free running for freedom.”

“Don’t let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do.”

This is what the white lens does. It diminishes our importance, places us on the margins, and then pats itself on the back for recognizing us at all.

“I will be relaxed and free of all restrictions.”

“I will feel buoyant and strong while running.”

Running believes it is a sport that welcomes everyone, when it remains a sport that primarily prioritizes and celebrates white experiences while having no clue that there are other experiences.

We are here, but we are not seen.

Media shapes perception, biases, and norms.

White ignorance is part of what keeps a white supremacist system in place. If we don’t acknowledge it exists, then there’s nothing to address.

“White supremacy is not a shark, it is the water.”

When we include more Black people and other marginalized groups in the larger story of running, a narrative emerges that opens the sport to more people.