I was at kick boxing this morning and we're learning this new routine, which leads to me day dreaming about when I was in college since I just jump around anyway.
I went to BYU (Brigham Young University) in Provo, UT. It's this little city at the edge of a big mountain range where, stereotypically, the people are all semi-Stepford and religious and happy. So basically you think that it's safe. I did.
I would go running anywhere I could. I specifically liked this trail in the canyon along the river. It's paved and lots of people run/bike/roller blade on it. So it's usually very busy. One day I was running on the trail around 3pm, which I figured would be a high traffic time. Nope. Nobody else was on the trail. Nobody.
This is where my fight or flight adrenaline kicked in. But I was so scared that I couldn't fight or flight. I stood there (maybe still jogging slowly). I said "Oh... My... Gosh." in the lowest, most freaked out voice that I didn't know I had until then. I was alone. All by myself on a trail in the mountain. What could I do to protect myself? Absolutely nothing. I was at the mercy of this psycho naked man.
Luckily for me he didn't touch me. He grabbed his thing and did a little something but he didn't touch me. Thank goodness! But also SURPRISE innocent Kelli. When he knew he had sufficiently scared me and done what he set out to do he ran back into the bushes.
By then I was able to move and I took off in a sprint to my car that was at least another mile away. I had a cell phone in the car so I called 911 and my boss at work who was like an uncle.
There is a point to this story that I want to share. Be careful. Be safe. Run with a partner or in places with a lot of traffic. Be smart! I was lucky but that's all it was. Luck.