As I run through the woods past the deep reds and oranges of the surrounding trees, my heavily worn sneakers crunching the leaves below, I gasp in quick breaths of cool air. Glancing over my left shoulder I see about a dozen other people straining to catch up. My ears and nose are chilled from extended exposure. My knees are numb and weak under the weight of my body. My head is pounding with each stride from stress. Still, I press on with determination. Ahead, I can see the path narrow to two person width and it appears to be on an incline. I slow my pace slightly to better handle the unevenness of the terrain. I take giant strong steps onto the gritty dirt hill and proceed forward despite my exhaustion.
After just 50 yards, I spot a lone figure in the middle of the path facing my direction. Clothed in a white jumpsuit that is splattered with blood, the dark haired person sways slowly back and forth, staring mostly at the ground. I stop in my tracks and wait for others to catch up to me and assess the situation. There is a foothold in the hill to the right of him and the tree to the right of that has a low hanging branch that can be used for quick leverage to pull oneself past him. Once more runners have closed in around me, we quiet down and begin to slowly file past him one by one. I wait for several people to pass me before I muster up the courage to take my turn.
Placing my shaky foot into the small divot, I get closer to the mumbling figure and keep my face turned away from him, preparing to squeak by. I tell myself not to look up close at his wild ice blue eyes and droopy face with ugly jagged teeth. He growls and reaches out at me just as I grasp the tree branch above my head and pull myself to safety past him. The intensity of the close encounter has made my heart skip a beat and, before I know it, my feet have carried me a few hundred yards away. Once I know he has remained in his spot behind me to terrorize others, I realize I can take a short breather. I lean my body forward against a tree and shiver from the dampness of my sweaty tshirt clinging to my skin.
“C’mon, guys! There’s a clearing up ahead,” shouts a tall skinny man as he whizzes past, others following closely behind. I push off my resting post and jog to catch up. As I eventually come to the edge of the tree line with the others our jaws drop in unison. In the middle of the vast open field before us sits a large wall climb surrounded by dozens of bloodied growling figures milling around in the tall grass. It will take lots of speed and strategy to get through this. I glance down at my flag belt to ensure that my three hanging flags are properly secured before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath and allowing my adrenaline to kick in and propel me through the “deadly” crowd…
This post is in honor of both my love for Halloween and my impending participation in the “Run For Your Lives” Zombie 5K this coming weekend. Hopefully I will “survive”…