Stiff competition

My wife recently introduced me to interval running. You walk a certain distance, jog a bit, and then sprint.

Repeat.

What I learned this weekend is that everyone will need to do this kind of training if they want to be ready for the zombie apocalypse.

Now, I have a Plan Z, so I'd like to think I'm more than a little prepared for the this particular end of the world scenario. But having the idea of what you will do and having the physical capability of performing are two different things.

So, this past Saturday I took part in my latest World War Z training exercise. A little mud run called the Run for Your Lives. Your standard 5k obstacle course, only with packs of zombies strewn about.

Yes.

I said "zombies". In a race. Somewhere, Samuel L. Jackson said something epic.

In most mud runs, I try to hold a steady pace throughout (although after the halfway point I tend to power walk the uphill bits). But that won't work when you turn a corner and the undead jump out screaming for your brains.

The way it works is this, along with your number bib you get a flag belt. Just like the gentler version of football, your opponents (i.e. Zed) try to steal your flags rather then chew through your skull (there is a reason I didn't play sports in high school). You get three life points, three successful zombie grabs and you're dead.

At the start line I talked with a gentleman who is a veteran of these runs. His advice: stay in a dense group and power through. Chance of survival: Nil.

How very reassuring.

We start the race in a dark meat cage, a soldier letting us know the rules before opening the gate. There will be health packs on the course, he says. To heal our zombie wounds, he says. A count down, and we're off.

Now, I like to get an early start on mud runs. They have heats all day long, usually every half hour or so. Early in the day means cooler temperatures, smaller groups, and the track is less torn up. What I would learn is this was to be the least muddy, but (not surprisingly) most bloody run I've participated in. My strategy doesn't pay off though, this is one raw race course. It's full of ruts, rocks, branches, and to my later horror, blackberries. More on that later.

The first obstacle was a new one for me. A black house, with little black windows that you have to crawl through. Already there are people screaming. It's pitch black and filled with smoke inside. And there are naked wires hanging from the ceiling sending electricity into the unwary. Well, I'm wary and I don't get shocked. Getting to the other end you can hear the growls, here comes the first clash with the undead.

You burst from the smoke into a large open field filled with zombies. Time for the first sprint. Downhill, over uneven ground. I dodge a few of the walkers and shamblers, but here comes a runner. And he is out for blood. And wham! I've already lost my first flag. I make it the rest of the way unscathed.

We're in the clear. We cross a stream and... enter another open field with zombies. Time for another sprint. I'm successful in my dodging techniques this time and keep my remaining health, despite a bottleneck in the course, leading into the woods, defended by one more brain muncher.

A short jog through the woods leads to a muddy, but easy, crawl. Then back into the trees and: you guessed it, more ghouls. These aren't as aggressive, but the trail is small and maneuvering is difficult. We clear this crowd, and find a fork in the road. We can stay in the woods, or head out into the clear. But there are more of the unfortunate wretches out in the sunshine. We decide to stick with the "obviously safer path" (tm).

Yes, I did say we. We're maintaining a group of about five (we have, however, lost our veteran, haven't seen him since the smoke house), we pickup and lose folks from time to time. Still in the woods, we complete the first mile. By this time, I've received my first wound. A small blackberry vine was across the road, attempting to trip me. Only one end was in the ground, so instead of falling, it ripped across my exposed ankle, thorns leaving a jagged line. I've had, and I'll have, worse.

One of our number takes a spill while running past a wraith. This zombie offers to help her up. My advice to you: Never Accept Help From the Undead. Sure, she gets a hand up, but off goes one of her flags as well.

A note on the zombies themselves. It seems that the apocalypse has occurred during Halloween night. There are every stripe of undead: rednecks, scuba divers, doctors, Disney Princesses. Eventually I'll even be accosted by Batgirl.

More sprinting past the cursed. More walking to recover our breath. More jogging to keep our spirits and courage up.

Then it happens. We're running for our lives through some zeros. One makes a grab at me. I leap to the side, off the trail and into a massive blackberry plant. I'm up to my knees, but I can't stop now, my "health" is at stake. I jump clear of the bush, but a vine is wrapped around my left leg. It tries to hold me back. I pull free and pay the price. I now have what looks like claw marks running down and around by leg. From the inside of my knee, across my calf, to my outer ankle. It isn't too terrible. The blood only wells, it never runs. After a bit more jogging, though, I get the sting of poison and my calf muscle starts to burn in that special way. I'm able to walk it off, still alive (even by game terms).

More obstacles, over and under walls. A maze.

I don't even remember where I lost my second flag, but now we are two-thirds of the way through the course and I'm down to my last flag. Ahead is a nearly ninety degree ramp (this course runs partly over a motocross track). The wall is probably twelve feet tall and there are more of the reanimated at the top. At this point, we've gathered more survivors into our group, including a couple dead-men-walking/running. These are folks that have already lost all of their flags. With nothing left to lose, they offer themselves as decoys and meat shields. How very noble, but I can't climb the hill fast enough to get past the guard. I've lost my last flag and now I'm dead.

I keep running, no longer dodging the dead. I'm a decoy. I'm a meat shield. I'm not sure if I'm saving any lives though. And it turns out that this was the last group of the dead.

At the end is a water slide into a pool of "blood" and a crawl under an electrified fence. I've finished the race, dead on my feet. I think only one of our posse actually made it through alive.

When I get my results, despite multiple rest stops as we gathered our strength before plowing through our antagonists, I've finished this race at my fastest pace yet. At 36:00.3, just over eleven and a half minutes per mile, or an average speed of 5.5 mph. I'm really getting the hang of this, and I think I've drastically improved my chances of surviving the end of the world.