Sometimes everything works out. And sometimes a literal misstep changes everything.
During my sophomore year, I was tired of not knowing what I wanted to do, so I decided to avoid, at all costs, what I perceived as “the real world.”
I applied to national parks, summer camps, anything to get me out of buildings and away from the constant chatter about the future, the business world, connections.
To my surprise, I got a job as a counselor at an adventure camp in the mountains, just across the North Carolina border into Virginia. A summer of paid backpacking, swimming, climbing and sharing my love of the outdoors with kids — the perfect plan.
But on a rainy Sunday in February, I made a last minute decision to go for a run on a trail in Cary rather than waiting until I returned to campus.
Approximately 3 miles into a 6-mile loop, I stepped awkwardly on a rock I didn’t see because of the leaves. And I went down, hard, my foot turning in and my body falling to the ground.
For awhile I thought it was just a sprain, and I didn’t question for a minute I would have to give up my counselor position. But the swelling — and the pain — remained for months, and I later learned I had a bone bruise on my talus, which, let me tell you, is a really bad place for a bone bruise. The talus fits where your leg meets your foot, meaning there is constant pressure on it when standing and walking. In April, I called the camp, explained the situation and gave up what I thought was going to be the most amazing summer.
So in desperate need of a job and with few places hiring so close to summer, I texted a good friend from high school who had worked at the N.C. State University peanut lab, interviewed, got the job and braced myself for a long summer.
Was I excited about spending 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. in a lab? Not really. I thought I’d be bored; I knew it was often hard labor. I figured I’d hear endless cracks at UNC. And I was right, in some ways.
