There’s no turning back now. We shuffle into the sinister tunnel like cattle. Soon the anticipation builds with the temperature as the unsuspecting horde presses forward. We’re trapped. Then the realization sets in: Pain, suffering, and almost certain death await us. And I can think of only one thing—My article’s due tonight.
Run For Your Lives—a zombie infested 5K obstacle course race—landed in South Temecula today under the gray morning mist. (Perfect fear-inducing weather.) And yours truly (disturbing) was there to capture the event—and hope that the zombies didn’t capture my flags.
The course began at the bottom of an intimidating hill. Runners in my heat kept a steady pace for a good 15–20 seconds. Yes. Seconds. Soon, the precipitous incline separated the wheat from the chaff—or the runners from the sloths. My sorry self was in the latter category, wheezing and muttering about spending money to be tortured. Then the zombies came. Snarling, shambling, and always grabbing.
Any break from the undead was only to allow runners time to tackle the obstacles. We trudged across muddy waters, ran frantic through a maze, and crawled through a not-so-fun house dripping with live wires ready to shock the shit out of weary and unwary runners.
Then runner zombies came, one after another, grunting and scaring the protein bars out of their latest victim.
At this point in the race, many of the runners had lost their flags and, consequently, their “life.” Those with a flag or two remaining (myself included) began to relax as we approached the last corner. “Beer ahead,” one sign read. We’re almost there!
The only things standing between us and the finish line were a few remaining obstacles. First, I climbed to the top of a water slide then plunged into a pool of sludge. Not too bad. In fact, it was somewhat refreshing. Next, I waded through more mud. Been there, done that. Finally I reached the last obstacle: creep under a fence about 15 feet across. Heck yeah, I survived! I thought, prematurely. But that old adage is right: Pride comes before the fall.
The last obstacle Kicked. My. Ass. Or shocked it, to be precise. At its lowest point, the fence left a few inches between it and the muddy ground below. Thicker folks need not apply. For the rest of us it was no big deal—until we realized the fence was live. I lifted my head too high and the electricity snapped down forcing my mouth closed. Then I arched my back a little too high and the fence came at me like the song by Akon. Smack That, indeed.
Overall, the Run For Your Lives 5k was well worth the money and the temporary exhaustion. The after party, beer garden, and live music completed the experience. If you have a chance to check it out—do it! You’ll find info on upcoming races here: http://www.runforyourlives.com/. If you’re too chicken to get chased by zombies, volunteer to be a zombie or show up and be a spectator.
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