look out fellas

Leader of the pack sitting in the gutter.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like there’s a fifth wave of feminism happening.

Have you noticed?

It’s creeping into my socials… it’s filtering through the media… and it’s infiltrating towns and cities IRL around the world.

It’s quiet but there, almost like it’s snuck up on us.

I’ve even had a taste of it myself - and only realised afterwards.

And ohhhhh, was it sweet.

As a quick recap…

The first wave of feminism was about getting the vote.

You know, like… women are human.

The second wave of feminism was about bigger inequalities, like economic, social and reproductive justice.

You know, like… your body your choice.

The third wave focused on intersectional issues like race, class, sexuality and identity.

You know, like… you do you.

And the fourth wave galvanised the online world to raise awareness of things like body positivity, consent, and harassment.

You know, like… guys, don’t be dicks.

But I reckon there’s a fifth wave happening.

And I feel like it could be summed up as something like…

I am woman. Hear me run.

You know, like… If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Then - see if you can - outrun them.

For example...

Take Courtney Dauwalter, legendary ultra runner, who won the 2017 Moab 240 ultramarathon outright. Second place - a man - finished 10 hours later.

Or Jasmin Paris, mum of two, who became the first woman ever to complete the Barkley marathons in 2024.

Or Ruth Chepng’etich who ran the 2024 Chicago marathon in an eye watering 2:09:56. God. Damn.

Or ahem recreational rookie Jennifer Cartwright, who in her small beach town run club one Tuesday morning a couple of weeks ago outsprinted the boys at the end of an interval session.

(OK look, I was behind them in all the previous intervals. They outrun me any distance over 200m. And the fastest guys weren’t there that morning. But still, I’ll take it. Lol.)

I’ve been savouring that feeling since - the surprise I felt when I pulled ahead into open space, arms pumping, feet pounding the road base.

I thought back over the work I’ve done the past three years to get back into running after having kids and putting on 10kg and falling into a mental black hole. All those early morning walk/runs by myself in the dark.

I’m certainly no champion. I’m just bloody proud of myself.

But I’m not here to boast – nor am I here to only fawn over the greats.

The women’s running movement is happening at all levels, from grassroots up.

Now, I’m not saying that women are all of a sudden going to start outrunning men all over the world. Nor is it even about beating the men. As fun as that is.

(Fun fact – Ultrarunning Magazine data show that women on average do indeed outrun men in distances over 195 miles.)

I’m just observing that - in case you hadn’t noticed - women’s running is at an all-time high.

And ooft, it’s exciting.

Because now that the groundwork has been laid by our foremothers and sisters, this wave of feminism is about seeing what’s possible.

It’s about giving a quiet middle finger to the stat that men on average do FIVE HOURS more leisure activity than women per week.

It’s about mouthing an ‘F-you’ to the socially conditioned messaging that pushes midlife women down into shame, guilt and fear because they haven’t overnight shed their post-baby kilos or stayed slim, sexy and fabulous during menopause.

And it’s not about passionate public bra-burning outcries. That work has been done for us.

Now we’re laying down the finger of blame to things outside of us… and instead looking within and inquiring-

What do I want?

What strengths do I have?

And what action can I take?

This new girl-can-run era is about quietly lacing up your runners and sneaking out the front door while the kids are asleep to stick your stake in the ground and say…

I’m done with martyrdom.

I’m done with feeling tired and flat and like my best days are behind me.

I’m done with putting everybody else’s needs above my own.

The kids/ job/ housework/ admin can wait.

I’ll be back in an hour.

I’m off for a run.