Stranded on the Dreadmill

As you may or may not have heard...

A local school teacher was raped and shot in my 'hood. She had gone out for her walk at 9am (broad daylight!!). They found her body at 5pm in a shallow grave.
She was 38 years old, with a husband and 2 kids. Can you imagine?

OK, so the actual location where they found her was a couple of miles from where my long run route passes, but waaay too close for comfort. This is small town, people! This is country, out in the middle of BFE. It is supposed to be safe here!

So, everybody who knows me and knows that I run alone regularly has made it a point to tell me to "be careful", or "STAY ON THE TREADMILL!" Now, normally, I ignore these comments, but this one is scary. I do carry pepper spray, but if somebody pulls up next to you and points a gun at you, what are ya gonna do? Run? Reach for pepper spray? I think not!

I miss the days when I had a running partner. I don't know anybody close enough where I live now who runs.
So, until either (a) I find a running partner, or (b) they catch whoever did this, it looks like I'm stranded on the dreadmill. Ugh!