On my last long Sunday run, the first week of February, I started heading down Comm. Ave. along with the rest of the Campus School runners. Before we even made it to Washington St., I was running all alone, and the rest of the group was far ahead of me. I never anticipated being alone on these group runs; the first few, I ran by myself the day before, and I knew that I ran a pretty solid 10 to 11-minute mile. Discouraged and feeling like everyone must have been track stars, I ran to Wellesley and back, jumping over snow banks, running in the shoulder because sidewalks were unshoveled, and trying not to get hit by the traffic coming off the highway. I only had my BCID, my watch, and a phone with 12% battery life. I made it back to BC, thirteen miles and a few hours later, but realized that maybe this had the potential to have ended horribly. When you throw in the fact that the amount of daylight is shorter (many runs happen either after the sun sets or before it rises) and that we live in such close proximity to a city, some smarter strategies are definitely in order.
1. Run with a friend. Maybe the most obvious tip, but definitely the most effective. Running with a friend can help you avoid getting lost (hopefully), recover from a fresh injury, or steer clear of a potential attacker. I’ve never been a huge fan of running with others, because I feel pressured to talk and match their pace, but as long as you both stay aware of your surroundings, safety can be found in numbers. There’s nothing worse than tripping off a curb and being unable to support your own weight and walk home, except for being alone while doing it. (Note: this also applies to dogs, although they can’t carry you home.)
My parents make the best running partners.
2. Map out a route, tell someone about it, and remember to vary your routine. If you’re planning on being gone longer than the 20 minutes it takes to run the perimeter of campus, plan out where you’re going. I used to just make random turns and use the flip-a-mental-coin method, going down streets I thought were pretty and then being unpleasantly surprised when I got lost in Allston. Knowing where you’re going adds confidence to your step, and even the most imperceptive observer can tell you know where you’re going. Don’t forget to leave a note for your roommates with the time you left, how long you plan on being out, and the general gist of your route, so if anything happens they’ll know when to start being concerned and where to look. Finally, remember to vary your routine every once in a while. It’s easy to get too comfortable in one pattern and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It’s also easy for those surroundings to be watching you; changing up your path prevents strangers from keeping tabs on your routine and using your run against you.
3. Run against traffic. This may seem counterintuitive, after years of learning to stay on the right while walking and drving, but it’s by far the better idea. With all the ice on the roads (and half the sidewalk on Comm. Ave. headed towards Newton…why don’t people shovel?!) and all the bad drivers you’re sure to come across, running towards oncoming traffic enables you to observe the cars approaching you, and get out of the way if something goes wrong (i.e. they distractedly drift into your space or they hit ice and lose control, they stop the car to approach you).
4. Trust your gut. Generally, you should avoid unpopulated areas, empty streets, overgrown trails, and unlit areas (especially at night); these are things your parents probably told you as a kid. We all know that we shouldn’t fall for the “I’ve lost my dog, and I’m also lost and need directions. Here want this candy?” trick, but it’s also important to stay alert near parked cars, parking lots, and bushes. Aside from the worst case scenario of being approached by a potential attacker, there is also the possibility of simply being startled and then hurting yourself. Once, I was running by a large bush on someone’s property and their tiny dog came running out to chase me. I was so surprised that I took a step to the left and took a tumble off the curb. Another time, I was running on the side of the road, against oncoming traffic but along parked cars, and all of a sudden a drivers side door opened and hit me in the side. In all of these situations, more awareness would have benefitted everyone. If you feel something is wrong, or even if you think it’s just a little unsafe running so close to parked cars, you should follow your intuition and get out.
5. Lose the music. With the exception of 5K road races, I can’t run without my music, and I recognize that this is a detriment to all of the safety tips I’ve been spewing out. Easy fix? Keeping the volume low and only running with one earbud in. My most recent fix? Taking out the earbuds and letting my phone speakers play at a medium volume– high enough that I can hear it, despite my arm moving back and forth, and low enough that I can still be conscious of all the noises around me.
6. Always assume you can’t be seen, and then take steps to ensure you are. Jumping out in front of a driveway, or trying to cross a street in the dark is a great way to get hit. Assume that drivers and pedestrians can’t see you, that you’re invisible, and then use that assumption to make yourself seen. Wear bright, reflective, or LED apparel (hey, combine all three!) and use caution when determining who has the right of way. Wait for drivers to wave you on, and obey traffic signals. When dealing with bikes or pedestrians, don’t be afraid to say “excuse me,” or “on your left!” Assuming that they’re aware of their own surroundings can put you in a dangerous position.
There’s no way to replicate the feeling of running outdoors when you’re on the treadmill at the Plex (even if you’re using the TV and set it to trail footage and pretend that the fan is the wind…I’ve tried), but sometimes the gym is the safest place to be. But thankfully, awareness and know-how can go a long way in conquering the crazy weather and terrain of the outdoors. See you on the roads.
Photo Credit: Meaghan Leahy