Solitude and Presence in Sport

Solitude and Presence in Sport

Running, especially on trails and in long distances, is often described as a solitary sport. The idea of the body in motion, in silence, facing challenges and personal limits, reinforces this notion. But solitude, in this context, deserves a broader perspective.

It is true that, while running, no one can take your place. The effort, the decision to keep going, the confrontation with pain and doubt are individual. It is necessary to walk for oneself and, in many moments, to be with oneself. This aspect of the journey is valuable, as it develops autonomy, clarity, and inner strength.

On the other hand, this same journey is made up of encounters. People who share training sessions, trails, and challenges. Friendships formed through practice. Groups and collectives that organize themselves to support, encourage, and create spaces of permanence. Sport, although it requires personal responsibility, does not need to be entirely solitary. There is support, there is a network, there is a possible sense of belonging.

For women, however, the issue of solitude in sport carries more layers. The low female representation in most races, trails, and training sessions is not a sign of disinterest or lack of initiative. Many times, it reflects fear—not of the route itself, but of what may happen along the way. The risk, in this case, is not symbolic. It is concrete, social, and cultural. Being alone in certain spaces still means exposure for many.

Therefore, discussing solitude in sport also means understanding that full access to sports practice requires safety, visibility, and support. Creating conditions so that women can be alone without fear is a fundamental step for solitude to become a choice, not a vulnerability.

The power of sport lies in this balance: being able to move forward on your own feet, while knowing it is neither necessary nor possible to do everything alone. The body moves forward, but there is presence around. There is structure, there are people, there is care. And that, too, is strength.

Written by Flávia Branco, from the women’s collective Minas na Trilha.