In Huntington Park, just south of downtown Los Angeles, a running club has quietly transformed into a frontline of resistance. What began two years ago as a community group promoting safe streets and fit living has now become a network of vigilance — alerting neighbors to immigration agent sightings, distributing know-your-rights materials, and claiming public space as a zone of dignity. This is not just a running club. It’s a shield.

From Sneakers to Solidarity

Iris Delgado founded the Huntington Park Run Club with simple goals: build camaraderie, advocate for crosswalks, support safer bike lanes. But as the Trump administration escalated immigration enforcement in Los Angeles County, the club adapted — fast. What emerged is a new hybrid: community fitness group, mobile observatory, informal defense network. AP News

Club members now post on Instagram when federal agents are spotted, share routes to avoid, and organize training sessions on how to document raids. A bike marshal accompanies every meet-up, cycling ahead to look out for danger and ensure everyone can return home safely. AP News

In a neighborhood shaped by fear, the runners chose visibility. They run through the same streets where raids have happened — near a Home Depot parking lot, less than a mile north of their route, sites that have already been struck by ICE operations. AP News One member, Evelyn Romo, sees their presence as defiance: “If you stay hidden, they win. We run to remind them: we are here, we are seen.”

The Raid Reality: When Neighborhoods Become Military Zones

Countless immigrants—lawful, undocumented, even U.S.-born—are caught in the dragnet of intensified enforcement. In Los Angeles County, a third of the population is foreign-born. Tens of thousands now navigate a daily calculus: which streets to walk, where to drive, which stores to avoid. AP News

Federal agents have targeted Home Depot parking lots, local businesses, and areas adjacent to schools. One raid triggered a high school lockdown during graduation. AP News The presence of masked agents, unmarked vehicles, and unannounced operations has turned public space into hostile terrain.

In such an environment, community response has to evolve. The running club offers a blueprint: decentralized, visible, networked action that combines health, awareness, and protection.

Why This Approach Matters

1. Visibility as deterrent
Runners — including kids, seniors, families — are out in the open. Their presence challenges the assumption that only the hidden are vulnerable. This kind of community assertion can make enforcement agents hesitate.

2. Early warning and documentation
By posting agent sightings in real time and arming neighbors with information, they reduce surprise attacks. Documented evidence of enforcement actions is critical for legal challenges and public accountability.

3. Legal education in motion
Flyers, trainings, rights cards — the club helps translate abstract legal protections into tangible tools. When people know what to ask for, when to stay silent, when to record, their risk of abuse is reduced.

4. Emotional resilience and solidarity
In an environment of fear, isolation sets in. Running together becomes therapy, protest, and community building all at once. The act of being outdoors, visible, supported — that matters psychologically as much as physically.

5. Flow of funds and care
With fundraisers raising thousands, the club supports day laborers — a group especially vulnerable to workplace raids. The reciprocity binds the community even tighter. AP News

Where This Resistance Intersects with Law and Policy

Let’s be clear: community-formed guard networks are a response to policy failings — not substitutes. The responsibility for protecting civil liberties lies with courts, legislatures, and executive accountability.

Recent judicial rulings had temporarily restrained ICE from executing stops based solely on race, language, or location. AP News But as restrictions lift or are challenged, communities can’t wait. The contracts between policy and practice are slipping; local self-defense is the only immediate recourse.

Risks, Opportunities & The Path Forward

Risks

• Harassment or retaliation by enforcement agents; documentation could be confiscated or used against activists.
• Fracturing: a small group of runners may not reach the most isolated individuals.
• Burnout: running while under threat is mentally and physically exhausting.

Opportunities

• Serve as model for other neighborhoods and cities facing raids.
• Partner with legal clinics, media, civil rights groups to amplify evidence and pressure.
• Encourage more forms of grassroots alert networks — walking, biking, youth groups.

Next Steps

• Formalize mobile alert systems (apps, hotlines) that integrate runner reports with legal teams on standby.
• Create legal-safe zones: routes or corridors protected by public monitoring.
• Build alliances with nonprofits, churches, schools to expand awareness and shelter space.
• Document every interception, raid, or complaint — build data over time to hold authorities accountable.

Conclusion: When the Path Forward Is on Foot

In Huntington Park, runners lace up to more than sneakers and sweat. They lace up to claim their dignity, their streets, their safety. Their weekly runs are small acts of resistance that, in aggregate, send a clear message: you cannot detain a spirit that moves.

As enforcement becomes more aggressive, more militarized, and more indiscriminate, ordinary people must find extraordinary means to stay alive. The running club is a local model of that imperative: refuse the invisibility, refuse the silence, refuse the surrender.

BorderWire readers, take note: resistance doesn’t always need barricades or headlines. Sometimes it moves quietly through neighborhoods — visible, vulnerable, steadfast. That kind of courage writes a different narrative than fear ever can.