There was no one else around when I heard his swift, heavy tread behind me in the dark. The park was deserted, lit only by the occasional pool of light.

Then he veered wide, into my peripheral vision.

“On your right!” he said, raising a friendly hand as he jogged by.

I’m not a runner – I shuffle, I jog, I occasionally fartlek – but I’m out in the park most mornings. At this time of year, that means being out before the sun comes up, and being hypervigilant.

And that was the first time I can remember that anyone tried to put me at ease.

Blokes tend to storm past – so close sometimes I can feel the fug of their breath even as I flinch away.

Sometimes they’ll huff and puff just behind me while I start scanning for other people or safer routes.

Most of the time, they just don’t seem to think about whether or not they’re scaring the shit out of a chick on her own in the dark.

A colleague says he’s always aware when he gets off a bus behind a woman and has to go the........

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