Sometime last fall, I came to conclusion that if I wanted to get all of my miles in each week, I was going to have to wake up before the sun. This was very depressing for a number of reasons: 1.) I'm definitely more of a night owl than an early bird, and 2.) I would be running in the cold (okay, it's Vegas cold, but it's still cold to us), dark, chilly morning all by myself. This creeped me out sufficiently. We live in a nice gated neighborhood, but in order to get the longer runs in, I literally had to scale the gate and head towards the mountains.
Of course, all kinds of "worst-case-scenarios" flashed through my mind. I was going to be attacked by coyotes. Or fast-moving burros. (we have those out here, people, and let me tell you, they look vicious.) I would fall and break my ankle or get hit by a car and would be left to die all alone on Hualapai. But my greatest fear involved man's greatest enemy - man. As I selected my running clothing with the light reflectors on it, I thought to myself, do I want the cars to see me? Or do I not want the cars to see me? The hours upon hours of watching Dateline in graduate school were working against me. Stone Phillips' voice thudded in my conscious mind as I considered all of the scary people out there who were willing to wake up early and kidnap a slow, chubby runner.
I'm happy to say that not only have I quicken my pace (which let's face it - I'm not going to outrun my attacker but at least I'm going to make him work for it), but I've also employed several safe guards. Brian always knows when and where I'm going. I have my phone, which has GPS, so the police should be able to track my whereabouts relatively easily. I don't carry Mace but I stay on well-lit paths near stores and homes.
And Brian has the script down in the event I go missing. I told him to tell them I'm 5'8", 118 pounds, with a charming personality and laughter that twinkles like bells. Brian, of course, was quick to point out the obvious: "...but I do want them to find you."
::sigh::
Stay safe out there, friends!
Of course, all kinds of "worst-case-scenarios" flashed through my mind. I was going to be attacked by coyotes. Or fast-moving burros. (we have those out here, people, and let me tell you, they look vicious.) I would fall and break my ankle or get hit by a car and would be left to die all alone on Hualapai. But my greatest fear involved man's greatest enemy - man. As I selected my running clothing with the light reflectors on it, I thought to myself, do I want the cars to see me? Or do I not want the cars to see me? The hours upon hours of watching Dateline in graduate school were working against me. Stone Phillips' voice thudded in my conscious mind as I considered all of the scary people out there who were willing to wake up early and kidnap a slow, chubby runner.
I'm happy to say that not only have I quicken my pace (which let's face it - I'm not going to outrun my attacker but at least I'm going to make him work for it), but I've also employed several safe guards. Brian always knows when and where I'm going. I have my phone, which has GPS, so the police should be able to track my whereabouts relatively easily. I don't carry Mace but I stay on well-lit paths near stores and homes.
And Brian has the script down in the event I go missing. I told him to tell them I'm 5'8", 118 pounds, with a charming personality and laughter that twinkles like bells. Brian, of course, was quick to point out the obvious: "...but I do want them to find you."
::sigh::
Stay safe out there, friends!
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