Will Zed for movies

So, two advantages of living near a city is that you can often get things for free and have access to unique opportunities. One such item where these come together is a press screening. This is when a movie is shown before its release, giving critics a chance to see it and pen a review by opening day. There are few reporters, so the theater, production company, and news papers offer passes to fill the empty seats. I am a huge fan of movies and I especially love seeing them in the theater. Thus, when I can go without paying astronomical ticket prices, I am well pleased. Doubly so when I can do it before the general public.

I've taken advantage of these promotions a number of times. Over the years I've seen some real winners (Shrek) and losers (Red Tails) and everything in-between. I saw a very early, unfinished edit of The Italian Job and very recently watched the first audience screening of a documentary (which I can't tell you about because I had to sign an NDA, but they bought my silence with gift certificates to see any other movie).

I've never had a screening like this adventure.

Recently, I was in the Portland Star Light Parade with Portland Zombie Walk. Well, our little group got the attention of a representative from Paramount studios. They wanted a small hoard of zombies present for the World War Z premiere. We leaped at the chance.

What Paramount wanted from us was rather vague, something about pictures and promotional materials. No sweat, folks love my zombie persona and always want to be in a photo with me. And I'm a huge fan of swag (most of my shirts were free). In return, we'd get reserved seating.

Our little undead herd gathered at the theater, including a couple of Disney Princesses and others with rather grotesque makeup. There were even some folks not affiliated with us madeup as zombies.

The guy from Paramount had us do promo shots holding movies posters that we then handed out to the those in line. We posed for pics with movie goers and mall patrons. Or simply stood around looking creepy and occasionally sneaking up on people, giving one or two a real scare. When we ran into a lull, we'd break out into Thriller.

Someone came up and told me that I was their favorite zombie!

After the movie, we took more pictures with folks connected to the studio and any who wanted to play around. And as a final thank you, we were all given deluxe branded 3-D glasses. A couple from our crew even got mini branded first-aid kits (not me, sadly).

In the end, I'd had fantastic fun with friends, saw an intense movie, and walked away with all my limbs intact.

I'm a Maniac

So, summer is coming. And what does that mean? MUD RUNS!

This past weekend was the Rugged Maniac, my first of the season. I have four more planned, but I may add a fifth beyond that.

The RM was held at the Portland International Raceway. I was signed up for the first heat at 9 a.m. I like grabbing the early slots because the course isn't torn up yet from all the other runners. I had a friend who raced in a later match and learned a secondary reason to show up early: you avoid the lines at the obstacles, which can really eat into your finishing time.

And time is one thing I'm concerned with. I track my races at Athlinks, so I can compare my performance to others and most especially to myself, to see if my daily gym visits are really paying off. While there have been races that didn't have official timing, this was the first time I had to pay extra for the timing chip. This is a little sensor that tracks when you cross the start and then the end. You tie it into your shoe and it should stand the abuse. Most races, this is free if it is offered at all, so everybody gets one and you really get a sense of how everyone performed. With having to pay a bit extra ($10!), there were far fewer takers.

When I arrived, the sky was not looking too promising, and within five minutes it started to rain. The registration desks hadn't even opened yet. Bad omen? No such thing.

This race did have a nice feature that I haven't seen before. The start area was actually blocked off by a small wall, similar to those you would probably find peppered throughout the course. I thought they would be moving this once things got started. But nope, they called in the runners with instructions to scale the wall. It became a bit of a "You must be this athletic to run this course" kind of litmus test. I vaulted it pretty easily and was the first to do so. The announcer noticed and called out my bib number: instant fame (of a sort).

The thing I noticed first about the race was that we were at a race track, so the land was pretty level. I was guessing this would make the whole thing much easier. I would soon find this wasn't really the case. The first obstacle was a stream that ran across the course. It was about a three foot drop to the water and about six feet across. Some were climbing down into the water and out the other side. I went the path of the more adventurous and leapt across.

Next came some some short walls to toss ourselves over. This was quickly followed by a theme for this race: bleachers. There were two small sets placed back to back, forming a small pyramid to climb over. Throughout the race, much larger bleachers were encountered that we had to run up, across, and down. Nothing too taxing, but they were metal and we were covered by mud by this point, so the footing was treacherous.

Other obstacles included the tires in the classic football training arrangement, hanging from ropes in a cage that you have to crash through, and a hill of the things trying to suck you in or spill you out. Several trenches had been dug out, some we had to jump across in quick succession, others we had to crawl through. These crawl trenches were covered and pretty long, so the interior was pitch black. There was someone in front of me and I was able to keep tabs on them by the reflectors in their shoes. But suddenly these disappeared and I knew there was a turn in the tunnel. This slowed my down a bit as I didn't want to ram my face into a wall.

About two thirds of the way through the race I finally ran out of breath and had to slow down a bit. This cost me my target time. I was hoping to complete the race in thirty minutes flat. My final time was just over thirty-five minutes. Not bad, but on par with what I'd been racing last year, so it's hard to say that I had any improvement.

After the end of the race and showering off I jumped with the kids through the bounce castle and then took my first ride on a mechanical bull. Held on pretty long but the cost was my pinkie finger. Mashed it up pretty good, scrapping a good chunk of the knuckle off, and leaving it swollen for a couple days.

With the first mud run behind me, my Saturday was far from over. Next was the Portland Starlight Parade. I marched with the Portland Zombie Walk group. Dressed in my zombie best, we scared the kids and adults alike, all in good fun. We even had a set of zombie Disney Princesses. Before the parade, we were hanging out with a Mardi Gras band, the Grimm float (but I only knew a couple of the folks that were there), and the cheerleaders from PSU. There was much revelry (including me leading a crowd in the Chicken Dance).

What sort of summer adventures do you have planned?

Thrills after dark

So, I'm not much of a dancer. Two left feet doesn't even begin to describe me. I have a pretty hard time doing anything with my legs beyond running and climbing. I'd say I was clumsy if I didn't have such excellent balance. I even find it difficult to switch my weight from one side to the other. Rhythm utterly escapes me.

Yet I am also a child of the 80's. MTV (you know, back when they actually played music) very effectively brainwashed me. And it was the anthems of Michael Jackson that most effectively planted a dance bug deep into my subconscious. We all wanted to moonwalk when I was a kid.

Thus, when someone said, "Hey, come do Thriller with me," there was no way I could turn it down.

Next thing I know I'm down at OMSI rehearsing. Our dance instructor took us through a lot of the original choreography from the video but with a slight twist to match our dance space, the cut of the song, and the whims of an artist. We did this for several weeks, culminating in a visit to our teacher's normal stomping grounds, the Diva Den. This may not come as a surprise to you, but most of the people participating were women, and normally the Diva Den is sans males, but this training was a special exception. That's right gentlemen, I have visited the forbidden inner sanctum!

Why were we doing this? All this bending of rules, practice, and hard, sweaty work? Well, the last Wednesday of every month is OMSI After Dark, an adults-only visit to the hands-on museum with a special theme. And just what was the theme we were preparing for? It was "I love the 80's" night. So we dressed in our John Hughes best and headed to the event.

And what is the 80's without music videos? Nothing!

So there was a dance floor where some of the greatest New Wave classics were played on the big screen. And without announcement we broke out into "spontaneous" dance when the Thriller video came on. Some people got excited and asked if they could join in. I said if they could keep up they were welcome to it.

In this video I'm that guy at the back of the dance group, in the upper right of the screen, with the hat, white shirt and vest. You know, the one flubbing all the dance moves and such.

And that's not even the end of the story. Because all of this took place last year. This year, someone said "Hey, come do Thriller with me." And the whole thing started again.

This time we had fewer practices and a longer, more complex routine (nearly twice as long and about a third less repetitive). Rather than the choreography of the Diva Den, we had the dance as told by Thrill the World. And the OMSI After Dark theme? The end of the world. So we dressed in our zombie best and had another Thrill.

Gathering in a back room to finish preparations and have a final run through, a couple of us got interviewed by the local news station. Our lovely instructor went first. She is an organizer for, and talked about the, Portland Zombie Walk, from which tonight's event grew. I volunteered to go next and talked a bit about other zombie activities in town. Our interviewer then said "This isn't your first zombie rodeo then?" To which I could only reply, "No, but those zombie bulls sure are hard to ride." We promptly ended the interview so the camera man could bust up laughing. There was also a group of zombified Disney Princesses. The Snow White was the only other interviewee before we had to make final plans.

We then did a quick zombie crawl around the museum to end up in front of a live band. We staggered around until they finished their song and we promptly collapsed to the floor. Everyone but Michael Jackson. Then a full six minute version of the song started and we danced as the crowd continued to gather round, film and photograph us. I kept up with the choreography much better this time and we pulled things off beautifully.

The aftermath of this event is that it continues to give me more confidence on the dance floor, as I have a better sense of how to make my body, even my legs, get jiggy with it.

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.