WASHINGTON -- Jeffrey Garber had not slept well, so instead of reading the paper or watching the morning news, he decided to burn off his restlessness by taking an early morning jog.

"It was the morning after the first shooting," he said of the sniper whose rampage around the nation's capital has left eight people dead and two others injured since Oct. 2. "I put on my shoes, stretched and headed out to run sometime around 6 o'clock. I was thinking, 'Man, I should do this early everyday.'

	Security and police officers kept a watchful eye over fans at Sunday's game between the Washington Redskins and New Orleans Saints.

"But later that morning, when there was news that five people had been shot within two hours, I decided to change my routine altogether. I haven't been running outdoors since. I use the treadmill at my gym."

As an investment counselor, Garber says he knows when to take calculated risks. And like the nearly 5 million people who live in the Washington, D.C., region, now is not that time. From recreational sports leagues to high school athletic events to outdoor festivals and homecoming dances, everyday life has become anything but routine with the grip of fear that the unpredictable sniper might make you the next victim.

"If you're not scared, you're a damn fool," said James Holmes as he rode a shuttle bus to FedEx Field for Sunday's game between the Redskins and New Orleans Saints. "You notice I ain't sitting next to no window, don't you?"

In an area that has grown accustomed to proving itself resilient in the wake of earth-shattering news from presidential assassinations to the Sept. 11 terrorists attacks that shook the very foundation of the U.S. government a year ago, the sniper attacks have taxed the psyche like nothing before it. Four people have been shot pumping gas. One person was mowing a lawn, and another was sitting on a bench and reading. One was vacuuming her car, two others were in the parking lot of stores, and a child was shot moments after being dropped off at school by a relative.

After the latest shooting, on Friday morning near Fredericksburg, Va., about an hour south of Washington, every school sporting event that already had not been canceled or postponed was officially called off. So were most outdoor sports activities, including many homecoming festivities and even some SAT exams, in seven counties.

	“	If you're not scared, you're a damn fool. You notice I ain't sitting next to no window, don't you? ”
		— James Holmes, a Redskins fan on a shuttle bus to FedEx Field before Sunday's game

Softball fields, normally teeming with recreational players well into the fall, were deserted. A youth soccer tournament that attracts teams and college scouts from around the country was canceled. So, too, were three large running events, most notably the Rockville (Md.) 10k, which annually draws more than 1,000 runners.

In jeopardy: the Army Ten-Miler on Oct. 20 and the Marine Corps Marathon, which traditionally attracts fields that rank among the largest in the country, scheduled for the following week.

"Once the shooting happened, we decided to cancel," said Neil Greenberger, a Rockville race organizer. "Here's the key question: If we put everything in place and do everything right and something still happens, what will the headline read in the paper? How are you going to explain that? The chances of something happening are very, very slim, but how does somebody justify taking that risk?"

That's the question president Tom O'Mara of the Potomac Valley Athletic Conference had to ask himself. The 14-team league of small, private, independent high schools has canceled its athletics for the remainder of the regular season. The schools will resume play with the league playoffs on Oct. 22, if the sniper isn't caught by then.

"All it takes is for a few parents to call and say, 'We don't want Johnny to play,' " O'Mara said. "A lot of our schools are under pressure when the counties or cities close down [their sports activities]. A lot of our schools don't want to go at it alone. You're in a minority. Do you want to stick out your neck?"

Thumbing their nose at the sniper

LANDOVER, Md. -- Anxiety has enveloped Washington, D.C., and the surrounding area as a serial sniper in the midst of a two-week shooting spree readies for his next strike. Everyday lives have become altered as people no longer linger while loading groceries in store parking lots, stand mindlessly outside their cars while pumping gas or leave their children to walk between home and school. The red-bereted Guardian Angels stand watch at gas stations, the bright lights of Friday night football were dark this weekend and the normal bustle of the nation's capital has become more a scurry from one safe place to another. But the threat of becoming the sniper's next victim did little to deter some 80,000 people who converged on FedEx Field for Sunday's NFL game between the Washington Redskins and New Orleans Saints. There were perhaps fewer tailgaters grilling burgers and playing catch before the game, and the lines into the stadium stretched long as security searched the bags of fans before allowing them inside the gates. Though the sniper was the topic of conversation among most tailgaters, policemen and even NFL players, little else has changed since security was tightened a year ago in the wake of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, the latter only 18 miles away. A look at some scenes within the confines of Redskins Nation on Sunday: Racheting up security again: For more than 80,000 fans at FedEx Field, there was safety in the number of law enforcement officers patrolling for the sniper. Long live The King: Tailgaters, including "The Sausage King of Landover," thumbed their nose in defiance at the threat of becoming the sniper's next victim. A matter of timing: A reporter recalls a close-call that might have made him the sniper's victim. No fear: The jubilation of another victory had Saints players ignoring security warnings to keep their distance from fans after the game. -- Dennis Tuttle and David Fleming

Coaches in the Virginia Class AAA Patriot League, perhaps the state's best football conference, agree with the decision to postpone -- for now. In most cases, the loss of a home football game is a critical blow to a school's athletic budget for the year, if not the team's chances of qualifying for a playoff berth.

"This is the right thing to not practice outside and to postpone these games," said Riki Ellison, the former 49ers linebacker who is now the football coach at T.C. Williams High School in Alexandria, Va.

When terrorists drove an airplane into the Pentagon on Sept. 11, Ellison's school, just a couple of miles from the military headquarters, felt the aftershock. Given that several of his players had parents who worked at the Pentagon and one of his assistants was one of the first fire fighters on the scene, the cancellation of that week's games held a particularly poignant meaning.

"This is different from 9-11 because that was so national and about reflection, and this is about safety," Ellison said.

F.S. Mason of Baltimore was sitting near the Philadelphia Eagles' bench on Sept. 16, the Monday Night Football game against the Redskins in which police officers had to fire pepper spray into the crowd to quell a fight. The pepper spray affected an entire section of fans, spilled onto the field and caused an eight-minute delay.

When the incident first occurred, many people initially feared the eye-burning cloud that made breathing difficult and players nauseous may have been a chemical attack by terrorists. In the Redskins' first home game since then, fans now had another reason to be scared.

"It's getting to the point where you can't take your wife and kids to a ballgame any more," Mason said.

Before Sunday's game, fans seemed safe and at ease outside FedEx Field. Eight boys played Nerf tag football in a wide open space in the parking lot and a group of tailgaters were rocking to Peter Frampton "Live." But to be sure, a group of fans draped a huge blue tarp over a fence as a shield from anyone lurking in the woods behind their parking place.

Little did fans know but sharpshooters were on patrol in hidden locations around the stadium.

"The one thing I've noticed about this [sniper] guy is that he shoots only where he has a clear field of vision," said Ken Clark of Falls Church, Va. "That doesn't exist in this parking lot. You can't get an unobstructed view of more than 25 yards. And besides, he likes quick getaways and there's two hours of traffic backed up to get in and out of here. This is probably the safest I've felt a week in being outside."

For professional athletes of the local teams, the sniper attacks are way too close to home. Many of the Washington Capitals and Washington Wizards players live in the Bowie/Crofton, Md., area in which the boy was shot at his school Oct. 7.

	“	"I don't know if I want to get gas. I don't know if I want to go stop to get a coffee. ”
		— Capitals goalie Olaf Kolzig

"I don't know if I want to get gas," Capitals goalie Olaf Kolzig told reporters in New York after Saturday night's game against the Islanders. "I don't know if I want to go stop to get a coffee."

If George Allen were still alive, perhaps his famous paranoia would be off the charts. When Allen coached the Redskins in the 1970s, he believed Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry had spies in the trees at Redskin Park, taking notes on the plays the Redskins were practicing. But now, everyday people aren't the only ones who are ducking behind cars to go walk into the grocery store or hiding behind the most shielded pump at the gas station. Late last week, cornerback Champ Bailey said he has instructed his wife and infant son to stay out of public.

"You never really know if it's time to go when you step out your house," Bailey said. "But when something is going on like this, you're really worried. When I'm at work, I'm not there to keep an eye on them."

	Fear that the sniper may target students again has led school officials to cancel athletic events and homecoming dances.

Said defensive tackle Daryl Gardener: "The devil doesn't play fair. It's crazy. The bad thing about it is the cops and everybody are doing all they can but they can't get this guy."

In massive Prince George's County, which wraps east and northeast of the District of Columbia, school officials have taken security a notch higher. All of this past weekend's high school football games have been rescheduled for three neutral sites on Monday. Games will be played on each field at 10 a.m., and 1, 4 and 7 p.m. The first two games of the day will not be open to the public. Extra security will be implemented and vehicles will help shade open areas around the stadiums.

For some, the loss of activities cannot be recovered. Perhaps the biggest event to be canceled is the 28th annual Washington Area Girls Soccer League invitational tournament, which was to play host to 372 of the nation's top club teams, including 63 west of the Mississippi. The event is a recruiting gold mine for college coaches -- and players hoping to be seen.

But Howard County, about 20 miles northeast of the District and abutting Baltimore County, did not give into the sniper over the weekend. On Friday, in pouring rain, school sporting events resumed for the first time since Oct. 5. Football games were played on Saturday. A sense of normalcy was more on the minds than a sense of fear.

"I think [the players] just wanted to get out there and get rid of some energy," River Hill High girls' soccer coach Joan Kelso-Smedley said. "I am sure they are nervous about the whole situation going on around the Beltway, but they know they can't really do anything about it. To not be able to do what they can do, which is practice and play games, is even more frustrating to them. It disrupts them even more."

Said River Hill boys' soccer coach Bill Stara: "I think some of the best medicine for these kids is to let them get out away from the garbage out in the real world."

Dennis Tuttle is a freelance writer in the Washington, D.C., area and an occasional contributor to ESPN.com