False Notions

The first time a cop car stopped me, I was living near York University. As I jogged down Gosford Boulevard, two police officers pulled alongside to “have a chat,” because I was clearly “new to the area.” Years later I moved to Summerhill, where I’d run along the quiet, lush streets of midtown Toronto. One of my favourite routes brought me from Yonge Street to Avenue Road, where I tackled that infamous uphill stretch along De La Salle College. One day, a woman flagged me down from her porch, asking where I lived and why I ran past her house so often. She wasn’t asking so she could welcome me to the neighbourhood.

In 2018, around this time of year, I was in great shape and training for a half-marathon. On a lunchtime run, with my shirt off on an extremely hot day, I passed a construction site. Waiting for a light to change, I heard some yelling. I looked around and caught several not-so-welcoming gestures aimed my way. Apparently, running without a shirt is one of the...