Nike After Dark Isn’t for Men And That’s the Point

If you’re running Nike After Dark and you’re a man… we need to talk.

Since I was a kid, I’ve always considered myself a male feminist. I’ve always believed in using my voice as a man, and the privilege that comes with it, to support women in ways that actually benefit them, especially in moments where they feel uncomfortable or unheard.

This isn’t new for me, nor am I one to follow trends

If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ve seen it in how I move and what I choose to highlight. Even something as simple as supporting women-owned businesses has always mattered to me.

So when I speak on something like Nike After Dark, it’s coming from a place of passion, not performative behavior.

My last video caused quite a stir, but the majority agreed.

Some people got it immediately. Others completely missed the point or chose to. Many men responded exactly how you’d expect when something isn’t centered around them.

So let me make this clear. This is not about hating men. This is about understanding context, safety, and knowing when to step back.
Nike After Dark is marketed toward women. This race is about giving power back to women, and if you’re a man going, you’re doing the opposite.

Yes, legally, it has to be open to everyone. That does not mean it is intended for everyone.

There’s a difference.

And a lot of men are choosing to ignore that difference just to be in proximity to a Nike event, the hype, the content, the moment.

That’s the issue.

And this also goes for the women encouraging it.

If you’re telling your boyfriend to sign up, or your male friend, or saying “it’s fine, he’s gay” you are part of the problem too!
Being a boyfriend does not make him an exception.
Being gay does not make him an exception.
Knowing you does not make him an exception.

That’s not allyship. That’s prioritizing proximity and clout over the Nike After Dark purpose.
If something is created with women in mind, the role of men is not to center themselves in it. The role is to support it.

That can look like showing up as a volunteer, cheering from the sidelines, making signs, overall creating a safe and encouraging environment FOR WOMEN..

I’m not speaking from a place of theory either. Last year, I made a mistake and signed up. When I realized what the event actually represented, I stepped back

Because women deserve spaces where they feel safe. Fully safe. Not “mostly safe” or “safe depending on who shows up.”

And if you’re a man, you have to acknowledge something uncomfortable but real.
According to global data from organizations like the World Health Organization, about 1 in 3 women experience physical or sexual violence in their lifetime, and the vast majority of that violence is committed by men.

That’s not an opinion. That’s a fact.

Women navigate the world differently because they have to. Going for a run at night is not the same experience for them as it is for us.

As men, we can run at night without thinking twice. Many women cannot.

As men, we can wear whatever we want without caring or feeling uncomfortable. Many women cannot.

So when an event is created to center their experience, their comfort, and their safety, the response should not be “well, I’m allowed to sign up too.”

It should be respected.

It should be stepping back without needing to be told twice.

There are countless races, runs, and events where men are the default. I’m running Long Beach. I’ve run others. There is no shortage of space for us.

And being an ally is not something you say. It’s something you do.

Sometimes that looks like showing, stepping aside, and this is one of those times.