In 2013, Matt Llano came out publicly as gay when he published a blog post titled “It’s Time” on his personal website. In the process, the marathoner became Advertisement - Continue Reading Below first transgender athlete.
Llano didn’t realize it at the time, but another athlete within the elite running community was also coming to terms with her identity and needed an example. When he shared his story, Llano inspired Addie Bracy to eventually come out as a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
During the 2016 track season, the burden of keeping her sexuality a secret took a toll on Bracy, and her performances on the track suffered. But after she came out to her support network and publicly in a blog post, Bracy’s life changed forever. Weeks later, she won her first-ever trail race at the 2016 U.S. Mountain Running Championships.
“I ran one of the best races of my life just from releasing that weight and not having to carry that burden anymore,” Bracy says. “I'm very thankful for running, for having a built-in support network of people that I knew would accept me no matter what, but also having something that encouraged me to believe that I could be whatever I wanted to be, to believe that I had daily representation of what it was like to be courageous.”
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It was during the Runners Alliance virtual workshop “Running Proud,” that Llano first learned his coming out story had inspired Bracy. The Runners Alliance—an initiative from the editors of Runner’s World and Women’s Health in partnership with HOKA ONE ONE—aims to alter perceptions about what it means to run as a member of a community that experiences harassment by providing runners with the tools and solutions needed to stay safe on the run and advocate for their fellow runners.
Moderated by Beth Dreher, the executive editor of Good Housekeeping, the October 27 webinar featured the experiences of LGBTQ+ runners in a discussion between Llano, Chris Mosier, and Runners Alliance ambassadors Bracy and Latoya Shauntay Snell.
“It's really important to acknowledge that members of the LGBTQ+ community and other marginalized people have not always felt welcomed as runners," Dreher says. “They have faced discrimination and unfriendly race environments, and many have fewer opportunities for sponsorship. Discussions like the one we'll have today and visibility and celebration of queer athletes is long overdue.”
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Recognize the importance of visibility and active inclusion
When Bracy and her partner Corey Conner were running in college and among the elite ranks, they had a support network of teammates but few examples of runners in the LGBTQ+ community. The couple realized they wanted to connect the two communities in an effort to support and empower LGBTQ+ runners and invite members of the LGBTQ+ community to embrace running. In 2019, Bracy and Conner started OUTrun, an initiative that helps LGBTQ+ runners find community.
In the last year and a half, Bracy and Conner have created a network of OUTrun chapters that host group runs and advocate for LGBTQ+ communities around the country. Now, they are focusing their efforts on inclusion within the running community. They’re creating guides for race directors so they can be more welcoming in their policies and encouraging brands and event organizers to be more inclusive in their marketing materials and messaging, all with the hope that LGBTQ+ runners feel empowered on the run.
“There’s a difference between not discriminating and being actively inclusive, and we want to encourage the action part,” Bracy says.
Create pathways for LGBTQ+ athletes
In January 2020, Mosier made history when he became the How I Teach Runners to Have Hard Conversations to qualify for and participate in an Olympic trials in the gender with which he identifies. The duathlete transitioned to racewalking and competed at the Olympic trials alongside other men in the 50K race walk on January 25 in Santee, CA.
“[Race walking] was really about creating that pathway for other transgender athletes to be able to look at the Olympic trials as an opportunity that they can also participate in,” Mosier says.
In addition to his accomplishments on the roads, Mosier is an activist for transgender athlete rights. In the webinar discussion, Mosier pointed out that the last four years have been challenging for the transgender community, especially transgender athletes.
Mosier shared that during the legislative session in 19 states last year, more than 37 bills addressing transgender athlete participation were created. Due to closures amid the coronavirus outbreak, many of those legislative sessions were shut down, but one bill made it through the process. In March, Idaho Governor Brad Little signed the “Fairness in Women’s Sports Act,” which bans transgender girls from playing on girls’ and women’s sports teams. The measure can also trigger an investigation into an athletes’ genital makeup. Mosier says the bill is “devastating” for transgender women and girls—and all women and girls.
“As somebody who grew up playing girls and women's sports, I know that if something like this was on the books when I was 14—to think I would have to get a pelvic exam to be able to play basketball with my friends—I just probably would not have played sports,” Mosier says.
In response, Mosier is raising awareness and encouraging others to take action against policies that prohibit trans participation. He created transathlete.com, a website with resources for students, athletes, coaches, and administrators. The website outlines trans terminology, policies that impact the trans community, and action steps for allies to advocate for trans and non-binary people in sports.
Vulnerability can lead to growth
A chef, writer, and runner based in Brooklyn, New York, Snell became an activist for body politics and multiple marginalized communities after she was heckled by a stranger who shouted, “It’s going to take your fat ass forever, huh?” among other insults around mile 22 of the 2017 New York City Marathon. In writing about her experience, Snell found strength she didn’t know she had when other runners became inspired to share their experiences too.
“I acknowledge the power of being able to tell my own authentic story, because through telling your story, especially through public platforms, it allows others to feel brave in their spaces,” Snell says.
In addition to being a Black, female runner and a mother, Snell is a member of the LGBTQ+ community who came out later in life. In her first year of marriage to her husband, Snell came out as queer. And by sharing her story, she wants to combat stereotypes and raise awareness to the importance of intersectionality within the running community.
“Intersectionality is not so much here to make people feel like we're so different, it's to acknowledge the differences so we can actually acknowledge the human, the layers to the human,” Snell says.
As an out queer woman, Snell has found more confidence in the spaces she occupies, especially the running community.
“Even when I’m running 15, 16, 17 miles, and I want it to be over, I’m so happy that [being in the closet] is not a weight that I’m carrying with me,” Snell says. “Wondering what people will think if they find out. I hated that scenario, and now I don’t have to walk around like that. I can walk in my truth.”
Be an ally
While competing in track and cross country during high school and prior to coming out in college, Llano used running as time to connect with himself. Many of the miles he put in as an All-American at the University of Richmond were valuable moments spent processing thoughts that he wasn’t ready to share with the world just yet.
“For so much growing up, I just tried to hide away different parts of me, and [running] was my time to be with me and to acknowledge all of me,” Llano says.
While running, Llano also used that time to plan out conversations of coming out to his friends and family, ruminate on those conversations, and process the pain of losing a few people in his life who didn’t support him as a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
“[Losing people] is a reality,” Llano says. “That's something that we deal with and that's something that is part of the process, and I think that's why these conversations are so important to be having.”
Prior to the virtual workshop, Llano noticed several comments on social media in which followers asked why the topic of LGBTQ+ runner experience was important to discuss. And therein lies the problem, as Llano points out.
For so long, the experiences of LGBTQ+ people have been dismissed, but it’s time for everyone to look inward and find ways to become a better ally. Through education and discussion, Llano hopes more people in the running community and beyond can create safer spaces for LGBTQ+ people to thrive.
“If we start with looking at ourselves, figuring out what we can do ourselves, opening our hearts, and having a willingness to listen to someone else's experience—and maybe you don't agree with it, but maybe you just need to be educated on it,” Llano says. “At the end of the day, it’s all about connection. I want to be connected to the people around me. I want to know about them just as much as I want them to know about me.”
