Flash back Friday: Chapter 1

Growing up as an adolescent, I wouldn't say I was the most popular girl in town. I was known by a lot of the adults as a Helton, which worked in my favor due to my elder siblings leaving an impeccable reputation behind them. But to my peers, at least the ones I wasn't close to, I was most likely just another face in the crowd. I remember middle school being especially challenging for me, as I think it is with most young children. There's a lot of changes going on in the body both mentally and physically and sometimes it can be a little overwhelming. Although I thought I was probably pretty normal back then, looking into my past I would call myself "interesting." I stayed out of trouble and never did anything that would be worth regretting, but I remember a girl who was in an odd state of emotional affairs. I remember being unhappy a lot of the times, secluding myself from family when we had gatherings, and not wanting to participate in much of anything. I wore a lot of black and was really into alternative/ metal music. I'd say I was almost borderline depressed, and I had a lot of thoughts coursing through my mind, thoughts that scare me now to think about. I never would have acted on any of those thoughts, but the fact that I had these notions running through my mind is a bit worrisome. This might actually be a startling confession for some, but perhaps these things are far more common in children of middle school age than we care to admit. It's an awkward time in our lives where we're trying to figure out who we are and who we want to be. We're easily swayed at this age, and the decisions we make during this time ultimately affect who we're going to be once we hit high school age.

Despite being "interesting," I was always sure to attend church every weekend, even if it meant going solo. You could find me every weekend either at Saturday evening Mass or Sunday morning Mass, and Sunday school if it were being held. I rarely missed, even when I chose to stay the night at a friend's house. I don't recall learning much during all those years of going to church. Perhaps it was because it was just a routine habit, or I wasn't ready to have any change in my life yet and ignored any sign of spiritual stirrings, or maybe it was because I had a crush on a boy who attended the same church and was too preoccupied with getting his attention to pay any mind to what was happening around me. Whatever the case may be, I was usually present and accounted for in body. 

Just as a lot of other kids, I participated in sports. I played soccer, although admittedly not very well. I only ever scored 2 goals in my life, and both of those goals were nothing short of a miracle. I remember both of them perfectly. The first goal I ever made was on a cloudy day. I was on a team called the Sidewinders and we had these silvery, gray uniforms with black shorts and black socks. I had eaten a frozen snickers bar before the game and then went out to play midfield. I had the ball in my possession and kicked it somewhere between midfield and the goal, and that ball rolled, yes rolled, all the way to the goal. I still don't understand how that ground ball got past the goalie because it wasn't moving at a high speed or anything. The only thing I can think of is that the goalie abandoned the goal and was on the wrong side of the field and couldn't get back in time for my slow roller to make it into the empty goal. Either way, I ate frozen snickers bars from there on out. My second goal came about a year later when I was part of a team called Clash, with pretty baby blue uniforms and blue shorts. I was taking a penalty kick, accidentally, because I was the closest to the ball and the ref at the time. Again, miraculously my no-air ball went straight through a hole in between the feet of the opposing team. My mom was the coach of this team and later revealed to me that she wasn't going to let me take the kick, but she didn't have a chance to have someone else take it for me. You know you're a terrible soccer player when even your mom has reservations about you taking a penalty kick! I may not have been an exceptional soccer player, but I could outlast everyone on that field with running. Everyone else would be exhausted from running around on the field after the game, but I was never phased. I couldn't sprint as fast as the other kids, but my mom recalls a game where she watched me chase down an opponent. She said it looked like I was running slow, so she told me to hustle, but then she realized I was actually catching them and overtook them. I think she realized at that moment that I might make a good runner.

My best friend at the time ran track, and she was the most amazing hurdler. She was even  better than the high school girls as a middle schooler. Her technique was impeccable, and she had the 3 step down whereas most other girls were doing 5 steps between each hurdle. My mom decided my 8th grade year that I would be joining the track team with her that spring, much to my dismay. I'd never run other than at soccer practice, which was usually for punishment, so you can imagine how lackluster joining a team where I would be running on purpose looked for me. I had no idea what to run, so I decided I'd just run the 800m and 1600m. We practiced with the high school team, but I remember not being too far behind the older girls in our workouts. I thought absolutely nothing about it, but apparently I caught the eye of a lot of people. One rainy day our track practice was moved indoors to the gym instead of riding the bus over to the high school for practice. I'm not sure if the head coach was unhappy with all of us or what, but he made us run continuous laps around the gym. I was the kid that did what was asked of me without question. When he said to run without stopping, I did just that. I ran, and ran, and ran. By the end of that practice I had run my way out of the 800m and ran my way right into the 3200m run. Again, I was less than thrilled to learn that I was running the longest distances for track, but I didn't argue. As each meet passed I was more excited about the prospect of being finished with the season so I would never have to run again, at least that's what I thought. Enter Sherri Cary, the woman who would eventually be my future mother-in-law.

Regional Track Meet - 8th Grade

She worked in the front office of Carver Middle School, the same school I attended. I learned that she had two older sons who were in high school and who ran track and cross country for the same school I would attend the following year. She was and is an incredibly sweet individual, but don't let her fool you. She badgered the mess out of me to join the cross country team in the fall when I moved up to 9th grade. She was relentless! I eventually just said okay so that she would stop pestering me so much, but I had no intentions on following through with my word. Regionals came for the track season, and as I toed the line for my final races of the season, my name was called out for the lane I was standing in. Remember how I said earlier I was known as a Helton to the adults? I was recognized instantly by the starter, and he made it known to me. If I recall his words were something like, "So that's why you're so fast. You're a Helton." I was completely confused and caught off guard because no one had ever called me "fast" before. Again, I thought nothing of it and as the gun sounded I took off, running myself to an undefeated season. With track behind me, I thought nothing more of running until I found out that my mom heard that I told Mrs. Cary that I would run cross country in the fall. Busted. Mama made me follow through with my word, and I did indeed have to sign up for cross country in the fall.

I spent a lot of time with the Cary family after it was made known to all that I would be running. They lived about 5 minutes from my house, right across the major highway that separated our roads from each other, and they were my ride home from practice (my mom wouldn't let me use not having a ride as an excuse, as Sherri volunteered to be the chauffer). I recognized the eldest son, Steven, as an acquaintance I had met at my best friend, Stinky's (her real name is Lauren), house. He was there hanging out with Stinky's sister and her sister's boyfriend. That same day we became acquaintances I laughed at something while in the room with everyone and chipped a tooth. How's that for a first impression? It was a little embarrassing, but I never thought we would encounter each other again so I didn't let it bother me. He was two years older than me, and apart from that I had no opinion of him. His younger brother, Tim, was one year older than me and we instantly became friends. 

Usually during car rides, Tim and I would chat and laugh together while Steven just did his own thing. There was one occasion where Steven started going through my agenda book that I had for school and would start asking questions about some of the notes I would write to a friend during band class. He was particularly interested in the conversations about a boy named Keenan. He wanted to know who this guy was and what the deal was with him. I teased him for being so nosy, but I ended up telling him that he was a boy I went to church with and that I had a crush on him for a long time, but he never really seemed to notice me. When questioned why he was so interested in who I liked, he was just like any other typical guy and just brushed it off, and I didn't think any more about it after that.

That summer my sister and  I went to the beautiful state of Washington to stay for a few weeks with our dad. AIM (AOL Instant Messenger) was really big then, and this is how I kept in contact with all of my friends since I didn't have a phone to connect with anyone. Steven and I talked a lot, but it was mostly irritating conversation because he bugged me about running. I wasn't familiar with the area we were staying in, and I didn't feel comfortable running, so I just didn't do it. I don't remember a conversation where he didn't talk about running with me, and I remember thinking that this guy is absolutely nuts to be SO OBSESSED with running. I think I enjoyed my conversations with Tim and our friend David much more, because they were never running related conversations. When I got back from Washington, the rest of the summer was filled with running in different neighborhoods, but most of all, Stone Mountain. I remember after one of our runs, Steven poured water on me and I went after him with a bottle of water of my own. I chased him around the picnic area for a long time, and he was surprised with how relentless I was in chasing him. He thought I would eventually get worn down, but I didn't. He eventually gave up and got doused in water, while I walked away smugly for accomplishing what I sent out to do. I don't think either of us knew it then, but looking back I would say that's when a seed was planted in both of our hearts for each other, but it wouldn't begin to grow until school started that Fall.

Washington - 2004 - Myself and my sister, Jessica