‘RunIt’ events under fire after tragedy highlights risks

Participants in a Runit event held in West Auckland. Photo / Mike Scott; Artist / Paul Slater

THREE KEY FACTS

• The ‘RunIt’ events are inspiring high-risk behaviour among young people, raising serious concerns.
• The demand for a ban has increased after a copycat event led to Ryan Satterthwaite’s death.
• Alice Soper argues for shutting down these events to prevent further tragedies and protect young people.

On the Friday nights of my preteen years, you would find me in front of the TV watching wrestling. Repeating the line, ‘don’t try this at home’ as I leapt from the couch, dropping my best impression of a People’s Elbow on to my unsuspecting little brother. On the concrete playgrounds at school, we had been banned from playing rugby, which meant we played pretend, pantomiming touch footy while in the teacher’s eye line. A couple of years later, I headed to high school at the height of Jackass fame. Everywhere, kids were egging each other on to more and more dangerous stunts.

We were kids pushing the limits, showing off to peers, trying to replicate the cool we saw on screens. We were kids, so we had no real comprehension of our own fragility. All action, no consequence. Bad things happen sure – but not to us, we were bulletproof. Until, of course, we weren’t.

The ‘RunIt’ events, spotlighted over the past week, are the latest form of entertainment that inspires high-risk behaviour among young people. Justifiably raising concern even before a copycat event tragically took the life of Ryan Sattherwaite. The demand for their ban is likely to pick up pace now that the danger is no longer hypothetical but all too terribly real.

The trouble is, physical danger has always drawn a crowd. Despite the controversy last week, this start-up sport packed stands and drew lines around the block for their activations. Videos garner millions of views online. Traditional sports like rugby may condemn this spinoff, but they built their own popularity in part due to this danger. The mythology of toughness, lionised through tales of our heroes that played on despite very real risk. These sports still package footage of similar impacts into highlight reels. They might claim they only spotlight legal hits, but legal is not always synonymous with safe.

The money on offer for those willing to run it straight feels exploitative, particularly in these hard economic times. It is difficult to consider your future reality when your present one would be much improved by such cash. There are those that would argue these types of prizes aren’t really that different from a payout from a boxing bout or the signing of a rugby contract. All involve a trade-off of physical risk to financial reward.

The key difference is context. By stripping back the sport to this one aspect we are also stripping it of the surrounding support: The concussion education all rugby coaches must now undertake; the innovation from research to improve technique; the evolving law changes prioritising welfare; the intervention from better match-day monitoring; the access for players to funds and support should the worst happen.

Rugby’s past may have been built on the glorification of big hits, but it knows its future cannot be blind to its consequences.

When I was young, I was blind to consequences – running like I had never before been hit. Consequence was a lesson I had to live, one I was lucky to survive. Meanwhile, some old teammates who were hit heavily have suffered personality shifts. More anxious and reserved following their injuries, I quit before my luck ran out. I pushed the limits and over time, those limits changed. New laws redefining contact, new responsibilities redefining risk.

I grew up; meanwhile, young people are still going to chase new challenges and thrills. The idea of testing your limits will remain a rite of passage. Similarly, we have a collective responsibility to help them learn from our mistakes. To protect them from themselves. To shift the notion of what is an acceptable level of risk and shut down these events before any more families suffer the consequences.

Alice Soper is a sports columnist for the Herald on Sunday. A former provincial rugby player and current club coach, she has a particular interest in telling stories of the emerging world of women’s sports.