When push comes to shove, women don't need this grief

The first shove happened early on. Definitely within the first kilometre. It was subtle and maybe even a bit gentle.

- OLIVIA PETTER

Like it could’ve easily been a mistake: maybe he tripped and accidentally pushed his shoulder into my arm. Perhaps it happened so quickly he didn't even notice, which is why he must not have stopped to apologise. He might’ve mistaken me for a lamp post.

That was how I rationalised it, anyway. But then came the second shove. And then the third. And fourth. In total, seven men either barged past or into me that Sunday while I was running a 10km race. Yes, I counted.

As a longtime runner, I’m used to going it alone. A quick 5km loop in my local park here, a slightly longer jog to clear the cobwebs on a hangover there. It’s rare that I do it with anyone else, let alone in a race format. But last weekend, I decided to switch things up and take part in Saucony’s annual 10km race through central London alongside 17,000 others. Music was blasting through the streets, which had been closed off specially. There were choirs, live DJs, and plenty of people cheering us on as we ran past the London Eye, Big Ben and Piccadilly Circus. It was great fun. Except for the barging.