‘Run like you left the immersion on!’ - Everyday sexism and the mini marathon

Last Monday I was a participant in the “fast jogger” category of the women’s mini-marathon, running with my aunt, a victor over breast cancer, in Dublin on a hot summer’s day.

On three occasions I was exposed to what what I would consider sexism in the form of “motivational” slogans: “Run like you left the immersion on!”, “The N11 never looked so good!” and “Don’t worry, ladies, the hair still looks gorgeous!”

The first two slogans appeared in fabric stretched across the footbridge of the Stillorgan dual-carriageway.

The latter was shouted by a member of the Order of Malta. To my astonishment, most women around me did not find fault with any of these slogans.

In fact, they cheered on the troglodyte and seemed genuinely validated by his creepy flattery.

Are the old concepts of our worth as women so embedded into the female Irish psyche that comments such as these automatically elicit a positive response of appreciation or, at the very least, an embarrassed smile? The simple answer is yes.

Men and women alike are often unable to even identify sexist remarks or undertones. They defend and deny its existence.

Unimpressed with the race slogans, I raised the question as to whether they were indeed sexist with my peers; particularly the reference to “leaving the immersion on”.

I was shut down when I raised the issue of the immersion slogan on social media. A male friend retorted: “That’s a fairly gender neutral motivational poster, men also worry over energy costs.” My friend and one of his (female) supporters then went on to bemoan the fact that men dressed as women who ran the race were not awarded medals, plus the the fact that it was a women-only event and that the title bore the word “marathon”.

More back and forthing ensued with my friend arguing that we would find similar immersion jokes and variants thereof in mixed races.

In the tens of races I have run across the country, I have not encountered such motivational posters. But the fact of the matter was that my aunt and I were not running in a mixed race: that was not the context in which the message was conveyed. The target audience was 40,000 women – not men – and, although the message is misleading, the context is crystal clear.

Messages like these are an extension of washing-up liquid advertisements, women marvelling at the wonders of carpet cleaner, “does my bum look big in this” yoghurt ads, and, my favourite, those that purport to celebrate the female.

These messages in advertising and those motivational slogans on the N11 reinforce and normalise gender stereotypes, particularly as regards women’s place.

Why is it that men and women of this country continue to deny the presence of institutionalised sexism?