News in general floats in and out of my mind quickly with maybe enough time for me to digest a few facts (what healthcare bill is getting passed, medal count for the winter Olympics and job loss). News that is important but not vital.
Then there are stories that shake me. My mind continues to come back to it; over and over. The murder of Chelsea King on a running trail outside San Diego is one of those stories.
She was beautiful, blonde, fair skinned cross-country runner for her high school team. She was senior who could not wait to graduate but was also looking forwards to prom. She was active in many clubs and charities. According to all those that knew her, she was upbeat, hard-working and caring.
Five years ago, I was ready to graduate from high school. I was narrowing my college choices down. I was looking for prom dresses and stressing about finding a date. I was very excited about my senior track season and was making sure to make it my best.
Much like Chelsea, I hit the trails at my local park. My parents knew where I was going and for how long. My training partners did not like to run in the winter, I went at it alone. I left my cell phone in my car; I had ruined many during run either due to sweat or dropping them. I put headphones in with loud music blasting. I felt invincible or like that Bob Seager song, I felt like a rock. I was as strong as I could be.
The difference between Chelsea and I was that I was lucky. There was never a sexual predator waiting around the corner for me.
I have become more careful since college. I try to run with a running partner at all times. I always call or text someone where I am running and how long. I make sure that they call me at a certain time to check that I’m ok. I carry my cellphone. I wear my road id. I listen to my music but not loudly.
I still make mistakes; I will rush out the door for a few more miles, alone and sometimes forgetting my cellphone. I will not make that phone call. I make it too easy for me to disappear.
Don’t let yourself disappear.
I’m buying pepper spray this weekend.
1 comment:
i can understand why this story would hit so close to home with you. it's definitely hard to remember sometimes that we aren't invincible. that we are vulnerable, no matter how strong or fast we think we are.
God bless you, Cara, I hope you know you are an inspiration to me and I would be so incredibly sad if anything ever happened to you.
Post a Comment