I began running in my 50s and finally started to like myself

I made sure to park close to the starting line at my local organised 5k, then I apprehensively got out of my car.

I was worried – scared even. I felt a real fear of the other runners not accepting me because I’m a trans woman. Parking close by meant that if something kicked off I could easily escape. 

But I needn’t have worried. Nobody cared that I was trans – phew! – and everyone greeted me with a smile and zero judgement.

The run itself was exhausting, but in the best way. As I ran through the park I felt a sense of freedom from normal life, even when my feet began to ache and my pulse was racing, I felt happy, comfortable and prouder of myself than ever.

As a child, I had always felt that I didn’t fit as a boy. But back in the 60s and 70s, being trans simply wasn’t a thing that was spoken about, so I suppressed it.

Later in life, I heard about people ‘changing sex’, but that wasn’t something for a working-class person like me. So I continued to push it all down and try to live up to the expectations of society.

But at 56 – in 2017 – the real me couldn’t hide any longer, so I finally came out to the world.

I didn’t really care about what my family would think. I know they are not happy with my transition and some have made negative comments, but I expected that reaction.

More difficult was coming out to colleagues and friends. 

At work, I had been a fairly typical IT person and presented as male – mostly wearing jeans and T-shirts. But once I acknowledged to myself that I was trans, things sort of escalated rapidly.

I remember getting ready to go into the office one morning and just knowing that I couldn’t do the boy-mode thing anymore. So I took a deep breath, gathered my courage and wore a skirt and top.

Nothing was said about me presenting as female for a couple of days, by which time I had become more confident that I was going to be able to sustain this.

Eventually people started asking questions, which I answered as best I could and gradually most seem to have accepted me and my pronouns. A few are obviously hostile but there is a strong equality policy so those that are negative try to keep it to themselves, though I still get the looks of disapproval.

After dipping my toe into socially transitioning, I decided that I wasn’t to ever go back to hiding who I was. No more boy-moding.

Before coming out, I didn’t want to even think about my body. I basically just didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

But I became much more aware of it after coming out. At first, in a negative way – it wasn’t the body I should have, but I couldn’t ignore or suppress it any more.

That spurred me onto realising I could do something about it, even if surgery wasn’t a realistic option because NHS waiting lists are too long and private healthcare is way too expensive.

Hormone replacement therapy (HRT) was possible, as was taking care of me, getting fitter, losing weight, and so on. That triggered me to start looking at options.

I don’t like the gym environment or the fact that it’s costly. So I looked around for alternatives and parkrun was there – which is a free community event where you can walk, jog, or run 5K with a group in your area.

It wasn’t really ever something I even considered doing pre-transition. But after that very first one, I was hooked.

I’ve done four 5k parkruns since then – so a total of 20k so far – and my best time is around 42 minutes at the moment.

Speed and distance aside though, I enjoy it because everyone is just there to run and I feel accepted.

Critics might argue that trans women are not welcome or shouldn’t take part as who they are. Some might even call us a threat to the entirety of female sport. But honestly, everybody is so encouraging – even for a slowcoach like me.

While I don’t hide who I am, I don’t go out of my way to advertise my transness either. I do however tend to wear trans colours (pink, white and light blue), including a trans coloured ribbon in my hair when I run so anybody who cares to know can easily identify me as being trans if they want to. 

If anyone has noticed, they’ve never commented. Instead, I’m just accepted as another mad fool running 5k in the cold and rain. For me this is the most inclusive thing that could happen.

In fact, it’s precisely the lack of any comments, positive or otherwise, that makes parkrun such a safe space for me.

To them I’m a runner (albeit a slow one), not a trans person, an exception or someone to be seen as a threat or managed, and that’s wonderful. So I’d encourage all trans people to try parkrun.

There are obviously the fitness and health benefits but – for me at least – there is the knowledge that I am now taking care of my body and myself. As the real me – and I’m starting to like myself.

I would say trans people participating in this is both a statement of belief in ourselves and a pushback against those that hate us.

As for my own personal goals, I want to get my fitness up to a point where I can actually run the course. Then maybe I can get my time below 30 minutes.

For me, there is no going back to how I used to be. I simply couldn’t exist as I was – and I wouldn’t want to. So my transition plans are to carry on with the private HRT for as long as I can afford it.

But most importantly, I want to continue to defy the world and simply exist as the true me. One that is happy with who I am.

As told to Sophie Molly