Just over 20 years ago when I was younger and more naive, I was followed home. It was evening time, can't remember the exact time, but probably around 10pm ish. I was living in London at the time. I'd come out of the tube station and was heading back home which was a short walk, maybe 10 mins. Not long after coming out the tube station I was aware of a short, fat little fucker in a suit a little too close behind me. I kept walking - upped the pace and couldn't lose him. Got to a road and knowing he was literally right behind me, I waited until he crossed first. Thank fuck - he was now in front. Not for long my friend! He slowed his pace right the fuck down and I was back in front. I started running, he started running. At this point I was FUCKING TERRIFIED. Just as I was approaching home another bloke (yeah they're not all bad for sure!) saw what was happening and chased the fat fucker and caught him. Long story short - the police were involved and he admitted what he'd done (he didn't really have any choice given the circumstance).
About 5 years later, I had an art studio in a fairly rural part of London, a bit further out. It was a space I'd use evenings and weekends, around my day job. Leaving late in the evening to catch the bus home was all fine... until one day it wasn't. I'd locked up, walked up to the bus stop, no one around, and waited. A car drives past, as he approaches he slows down and turns and stares, but carried on driving, I clocked this but didn't think too much of it initially. A short while later the same chap is back, he's obviously turned around further up the road so now he's on the opposite side of the road and again, as he approaches he slows down and again, he stares as he drives past. I can't remember how many times he did this, but it felt like it went on forever, meanwhile by this point I was starting to feel pretty anxious about my bus turns up. The final time he drives past he is driving on the same side of the road where I'm sat at the bus stop, only this time he doesn't keep going and repeat the pattern again... he stops. He's pulled up in a road that runs left of the road I was waiting at, and I can see him, sitting there, staring at me. I can still to this day remember the creepy fuckers face, and his hair. This was my 2nd REALLY BLOODY LUCKY escape, because thankfully the bus did turn up... it was one of those bendy buses that London used to have - I've never been so relieved to get on public transport. I sat down in a seat that was kerb side, full of relief but then also terrified this bloke was going to follow the bus and I'd have to deal with him the other end. Thankfully at the time I was living in central London and the bus stop was really close to my flat. I got off that bus and ran like I've never fucking ran before and got home. It was also fairly busy the other end (the end where I was waiting for the bus... there was no one around... pretty desolate).
So, thanks for the offer to cool off on the drama and to go for a jog at night, but I think I'll give it a miss.
In both of these instances, whilst they were not in a park - the things that made me safe were 1) someone else being there to save the day and 2) public transport that I was able to escape onto. Both these incidents still give me the chills, over 20 years later. They could both have ended very differently.
We're all grown ups, we can each decide for ourselves how we feel about the risks involved when it comes to being out and about as a female when it's dark, whether that's in a rural area or otherwise.
I do find it staggering to see that folk like you are so naive about women's safety though.
Also, I never said "most men are predators", I said that "men are women's biggest predator".