I’ll start by saying that I have no formal affiliation to Punk Panther Endurance Events. I’m not paid by them and I’m not one of their official ambassadors. I’ve simply been a big fan of their events since I first took part in one in early 2020, and I think that they deserve to be better known in the running community. The routes are GORGEOUS, and, as a company, they’re making big strides in implementing evidence-based efforts to increase female participation in their races - which are paying off.
Historically, race organisers have generally worked on the basis that participants will be male. As I describe in In Her Nature (out in paperback in April!), women have been (and still are) deterred from running events - especially long-distance running events - by factors that include outright bans on female participation. Women were banned from the Olympic marathon until 1984, for example. Race regulations have often been explicitly female-unfriendly. UTMB allowed runners who injure themselves between enrolment and race day to defer their entries to a later year, but, until last year, female runners who became pregnant in that time had to forfeit their places. Men perpetrate hostility, violence and sexual assaults on female runners. When Kathrine Switzer ran the Boston Marathon in 1967, she was attacked, mid-course, by race director Jock Semple in an assault that she described as ‘terrifying’: ‘the most vicious face I’d ever seen, [belonging to] a big man, a huge man, with bared teeth…he grabbed my shoulder and flung me back screaming, ‘Get the hell out of my race’.’ Female competitive speed-walkers in the nineteenth-century were subjected to rapes and assaults by male onlookers, and often resorted to carrying guns to defend themselves. Male hostility towards female runners isn’t a thing of the past: we are living through a significant spike in assaults and murders of women out running, with more women being killed whilst out running since 2016 than in the 30 years prior to that. Anyone who is a member of US online communities dedicated to women’s long-distance running will be familiar with discussions about the best guns and sprays to carry whilst running, to protect women from violent men.
As I describe in chapter 4 of In Her Nature, deterrents to female participation in long-distance running are pervasive and societal. Women across the world report being hindered by a plethora of factors. These include (in no particular order, and this is far from an exhaustive list):
the gender leisure gap (in which men in the UK enjoy more than 5 hours more leisure per week than women)
women’s disproportionate responsibility for childcare
lack of disposable income relative to men
male violence and fear. In sporting environments, and in outdoor space in general, male violence and hostility towards women is rising: harassment of female spectators at football matches has more than doubled in the last 7 years. 99% of women report having been subjected to street harassment by men, which can range from derogatory noises to being chased, groped and raped.
less confidence and self-belief than men. Generally this works in favour of male athletes, as it means that there are more men on starting lines than women. But occasionally it doesn’t work in men’s favour. Studies show that men are far more likely than women to misjudge pace and go off too fast, or to try to ‘wing’ races for which they haven’t adequately trained. Statistically, men are more likely to hit the wall or DNF (‘did not finish’ the race) than women. In Mitch LeBlanc’s data analysis of the 2011 Leadville race, women in their 40s were the most likely demographic group to complete the race - and men in their 20s were the least likely.
fear of physical injury
less representation and coverage of women being sporty, strong and active outdoors
less respect accorded to sportswomen than men (in lesser prize money and sponsorship, and even the basic failure of races to provide female finishers with a t-shirt cut to women’s dimensions)
a sense that the outdoors is colonised by men and boys (for example, via street harassment, and by the design of the built environment (such as playgrounds and parks) to meet male desires - see the work of Make Space for Girls)
parenting norms in which young boys are encouraged to be adventurous and young girls are not
a historical and widespread dearth of sports kit designed for female physiology
insufficient training for women and girls in outdoor skills, such as navigation
widespread closure of public toilets. Historically and in the present day, this restricts women’s freedom outdoors to a far greater degree than men, because of the difficulty of urinating discreetly in women’s clothing; cultural disgust at the idea of women urinating publicly, and women’s discomfort with doing so; women’s lack of practice in urinating outdoors quickly and unmessily; women’s vulnerability to assault when toileting publicly; complications involved with menstruation, prolapses, childbirth injuries and loss of mobility in old age; and women’s greater likelihood of being accompanied by children or other people for whom they’re caring. The lack of provision of public toilets has been described as imposing a ‘urinary leash’ on women’s ability to roam freely outdoors.
lack of attention to the marked differences between male and female physiology in the organisation of races eg. women often have to meet cut-offs designed around average male speeds, when women are 10-15% slower than men. This lack of attention to the specific needs of female physiology is also being manifested in the current erosion of the importance of a separate, protected female competitive category in sport. A separate female category is necessary to defend women against the loss of visibility, loss of respect and threats to their physical safety that they’d suffer if made to compete against men (who possess a significant physiological advantage in most sports). But some sporting events are permitting males to participate in this category, which put women at risk of further marginalisation
widespread representation of girls and women as ‘risk-averse’
relative lack of sports science research into women, and lack of research into how female hormonal variations (and events in the female life cycle, such as childbirth and menopause) affect women’s training and performance
lack of women in leadership roles in sport. Interestingly, and depressingly, although female participation in sport has significantly increased since the 1970s, the proportion of women in leadership roles has decreased. This is largely because, in mergers of female and male clubs, leadership roles have been retained by men
a sense that sport is, historically and in the present day, a ‘man’s domain’
women’s socialisation into a sort of split consciousness, in which we’re perpetually aware of how we look. The philosopher Iris Marion Young describes how, when men go to catch a ball, the physical and mental movements are as one: men think through their bodies. But women are often painfully self-conscious of how we appear to others, as we run or talk or sweat. So when we go to catch a ball, there is often a splitting, in which our minds act separately from our bodies - and this can lead to a loss of that fluidity and utter absorption that men enjoy. Women are often self-conscious, self-critical, and we have a tendency to perceive our bodies as imperfect instruments that fail to live up to what our minds would like them to be/do.
Many of these factors are endemic and societal, and bigger than a single race company can tackle. But there are some things that race directors can do to improve the participation and experiences of female runners. Bev Logan - sportswear designer and director of Badass Mother Runners - has created a women-only 10k race: female runners often report feeling that all-female races can instil confidence, and often feel safer and friendlier than mixed-sex races. Big Bear Events, in the midlands, links up with a holiday camp provider to offer childcare for competitors’ children, and also runs mid-week races, to allow mothers to run while their kids are at school or nursery. The directors of the Loon Mountain Race in New Hampshire offer discounts for first-time female competitors, ensure equal representation of female runners in marketing imagery, equal prizes, and female-fit t-shirts for female finishers (hallelujah!). Some races - including the Ouray 100-mile Endurance Race - give larger prizes to female winners than to male winners, to compensate for the history of women being shut out of competitive endurance running.
In the UK, I’ve been recently very impressed by the efforts made by Punk Panther Endurance Events. Punk Panther is a race company whose events mostly take place in West and North Yorkshire, to the north of Leeds. It’s headed up by Ryk Downes and Mark Limon, and a major driving force is Bev Downes, who is particularly passionate about enhancing female participation. It’s one of the only race companies I know of to have a clearly-worded, evidence-based ‘Female Runners Policy’. These are some of the innovations that Punk Panther have implemented in the last few years:
a generous pregnancy deferrals policy, in which women who become pregnant in the time between enrolment and race day can defer their place in the race for up to 2 years
assistance for runners feeding babies: provision of areas to feed at each checkpoint; dedicated parking at checkpoints to allow the baby to be brought as close as possible; exemption from cut-offs; basically anything else you might ask for in conjunction with feeding infants
provision of sanitary products at each checkpoint
provision of as many female-only toilets as the course allows
for anyone who feels unsafe running alone at night, the Punk Panther team will allow you to be accompanied by a safety support runner
very generous and flexible cut-offs, to accommodate the fact that women are, on average, 10-15% slower than men. Most of the PP races can be done by walking, if you’d prefer this to running. If you feel like you need more time than the cut-offs allow, the team are flexible and accommodating about letting you start earlier (or finish later)
provision of trackers, which are constantly monitored to ensure runners’ safety. When Ryk noticed that my tracker had temporarily gone offline during a race, he phoned me straight away to make sure that I was OK. Race officials will also contact runners if they’ve gone off course, or if they appear to have stopped moving unexpectedly.
a wide variety of distances with generous cut-offs. In surveys and on race results sheets, it’s evident that women are less likely to sign up for longer races, especially if they have tight cut-offs. This is generally a matter of women’s lack of confidence rather than ability. For example, the Coniston Marathon (run by a company called Lakeland Trails) is split into 2 categories: the ‘race’ (which has a cut-off of 6 hours, for c. 26.2 miles) and the ‘challenge’ (same distance, with a more generous cut-off of 8 hours). Generally, TWICE as many women enter the challenge than the race, despite the fact that about half of the women who do the challenge do so in under 6 hours, and would have been fine in the ‘race’ category. Punk Panther used to only host ultra-distance events upwards of thirty miles, but they’ve recently diversified, and now, at most of their races, there is a choice between 13, 20, c.35 and 50-mile distances, with some races offering longer distances too. Evidence shows that women are more likely to enter events of shorter distances, and the hope is this spectrum of distances at the PP events will allow female competitors to develop confidence and endurance skills in a friendly, supportive environment, which will encourage them to try out longer races. (There’s nothing inherently better about longer distances, of course. But IME, long-distance running is a profoundly rewarding experience, which holds specific joys for women, and also draws on many women’s skillsets).
a focus on more stories in running than just the winners’ stories. In surveys, women report being less focused on competitiveness and winning than men are, and show greater interest in the other joys and delights of long-distance events, including stories of sociability, of determination, of the reasons why people run. Punk Panther recognises this diversity of experiences and values in their annual awards, which include awards for ‘most inspirational runner’, ‘most determined runner’, ‘special recognition for first ultra’, and awards that are chosen by Punk Panther’s ambassadors on the basis of values beyond speed. Incidentally, women won more prizes than men in the 2023 awards ceremony. (Even more incidentally, they also give an award for ‘best dressed runner’ at their annual Christmas run, which yours truly won one year, for running an ultra dressed as a snowman.)
Punk Panther’s efforts are paying off, and numbers of female participants at their events are rising - even at the much longer distances. But I think that this race company doesn’t have the visibility in the running community that it deserves, not just for its efforts to improve women’s experiences, but also because its routes are so well thought-out, so encouraging and friendly, generally well way-marked and navigationally easy, and just so so beautiful.
In particular, Punk Panther are holding a series of races in July along two particularly spectacular routes - the Dales Way and the Dales High Way. Runners can choose one or t’other, OR they can run both combined into a mammoth 200-mile event. I ran the Dales Way in 2021, and the route - its history, and what it means to me personally - is the subject of chapter 7 of In Her Nature. It’s a gentle, exquisite path which mostly clings to riverbanks for the entirety of its 83-mile distance from Bowness-on-Windermere down to Ilkley, and it was designed in 1968 to assert new ‘right to roam’ freedoms.
This year, I’m signed up for the Dales High Way race in July, which goes from Saltaire (outside Bradford) up to Appleby-in-Westmoreland. Both routes traverse the entire vertical distance of the Yorkshire Dales, but the Dales High Way is the louder, showier cousin to the calmer Dales Way. Where the latter stays valley-bound, the former pursues the loftier route, roughly shadowing the Settle-Carlisle railway line, and taking in iconic landmarks such as Gordale Scar, Malham Cove, Ingleborough, The Calf (in the Howgills), and High Cup Nick. I have to confess to being slightly terrified: whereas the Dales Way was 83 miles with elevation of 7500 feet, the Dales High Way is 104 miles long with 16,600 feet of elevation. But I’ve designed my training for the next 6 months around it, and I’m loving getting fitter and stronger, becoming mentally and physically better at hills (both the long, sustained types of incline, and the shorter, sharper shocks), and getting to know the route in recces that break it down into manageable chunks.
All 3 of the race options - the Dales Way, the Dales High Way, and the combined 200-mile route which is labelled the ‘Destiny Ultra’ - deserve to be iconic stalwarts on the British trail-running calendar. And I think this is doubly so for female runners, because of Punk Panther’s attentiveness to the social and physiological needs of women. But Punk Panther are not as well-known as they should be, and these races are endangered because of low enrolment numbers. So I’d urge you to take a look at the PP website (and Facebook page) and to consider joining me on the start line in July! And if that’s not enough, here are some photos to whet your appetite, from the Dales Way in 2021, and my recent recces of the Dales High Way.
This is brilliant! I'm with you on the cutoffs thing (I think I punched the air when reading that part in your book), there's a race here that I won't run because of this exact thing (generous overall cutoff, weirdly strict first checkpoint cutoff).
What a fantastic piece of writing. Thank you so much Rachel. Brilliant.