After Dark, But Not After 3 Hours: Nike's Time Limit Undermines the Women It Claims to Empower

Rizzo Los Angeles

By positioning its new “Nike After Dark Half Marathon” in Los Angeles as a celebration of women in running, Nike had an opportunity to create something truly transformative—a night dedicated not just to speed, but to strength, inclusivity, and the wide range of paces, bodies, and stories that make up the modern running community.

But when the brand quietly announced a strict 3-hour cutoff, the messaging shifted. Suddenly, it wasn’t about empowering all women—it was about showcasing only the fastest ones. And just like that, Nike reminded us what many in the running world already knew:

This was never really about inclusion.

Cutoffs That Cut Out Community

A 3-hour time limit for a half marathon (a 13:44 per mile pace) might seem reasonable to some. But in practice, it excludes a massive portion of everyday runners—especially beginner runners, older athletes, and those running while navigating injury, postpartum recovery, chronic conditions, or larger body types.

These are exactly the women who Nike claims to champion.

They’re the ones who show up to group runs in nervous excitement, wearing fresh gear and brand-new race bibs. The ones chasing personal goals, not podiums. The ones who remind us that running is about resilience, not results. And yet, they’re being told: you don’t belong here.

By drawing a line at three hours, Nike is sending a message louder than any campaign ad: If you can’t finish fast, you don’t finish with the others, we'll just redirect you to the afterparty where you can celebrate with the finishers.

A Pattern of Disempowerment

Sadly, this isn’t a surprising turn for Nike. The brand has a well-documented history of prioritizing performance and profit over the actual health and empowerment of female athletes.

• Alysia Montaño and Kara Goucher spoke out about being penalized by Nike during pregnancy and postpartum periods.

• Allyson Felix, one of the most decorated Olympians in history, parted ways with Nike after they refused to guarantee salary protection around childbirth—only for her to become a public voice for athlete maternity rights.

• Mary Cain, once the fastest high school distance runner in the country, revealed how Nike’s Oregon Project damaged her mentally and physically through weight-shaming and abusive coaching.

• Simone Biles, the most decorated gymnast of all time, left Nike for Athleta—citing a desire to partner with a company that actually aligned with her values as a woman and athlete.

  
  

When the most elite, decorated, and visible athletes in the world are walking away from Nike’s so-called “empowerment,” what does that say for the everyday runner?

The True Pace of Empowerment

Running isn’t just for the front of the pack. Empowerment doesn’t wear a stopwatch. Real inclusivity means building races that welcome all women—at all paces—and designing events that reflect the full spectrum of experiences that exist in the sport.

The finish line should be a place of arrival, not exclusion.

If Nike really wants to empower women “after dark,” they need to embrace every woman brave enough to show up—whether she finishes in 1:30, 3:00, or 3:59.

Because if you’re going to build a campaign around sisterhood, boldness, and movement in the margins, you can’t erase the very people who define that.

The Road Ahead Doesn’t Belong to Nike

Nike had the chance to light up the night with something meaningful—something for every woman who dares to show up, no matter her pace, her shape, her journey. But instead, they drew a hard line at three hours. And in doing so, they made it clear: not all women are welcome under their spotlight.

But here’s the truth: we don’t need their spotlight. We are our own light.

The movement that’s changing running—from the back of the pack to the front—was never powered by brands. It’s powered by community. By the women who show up even when they’re not invited. By the ones who make space when others try to shrink it. By those who keep going—mile after mile, in defiance and in joy.

Nike may host the race.

But Nike didn’t create this community. And they won’t limit it, either.