Day of the Running Death

Another zombie fest = further justified disgustingness. Yes, for the third time in as many months Jason and I again painted ourselves gray, putrefied our skin with latex, and smeared fake blood all over our mugs. I guess you can take the Sabins out of the filth but you can’t take the filth out of the Sabins.

We participated in Night of the Running Dead, a 5K race to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute, with 5 of our buddies about a week ago. Racers could run as a zombie or a meal-I mean a human. The humans got a 2 minute head start after which the undead were set loose on them.

Everyone here was in a fight for their lives...or for their food at the very least. Except Drew, he was just out for a pleasant jog.

Jason and I decided to join the zombie group, as did our sister-in-law Simone. Our choice of allegiance shouldn’t surprise you; we are pretty rotten. The rest of our friends decided they’d rather run for their lives than after their food. Serve yourselves.

That climbing a tree trick never works; zombies like their grub skewered.

The concept behind this race was dreadfully enticing. Who doesn’t dream of being chased down by reanimated corpses or salivate at the thought of some fresh meat? The setting was pretty ideal too. The Utah State Fairgrounds provided that abandoned city feel you’d expect from a ghoul-infested post-apocalyptic municipality. But, while this event had the makings of grisly greatness, its perfection was marred by two pesky problems.

Cam was undaunted by little ol' zombified me. Doh! Even as a decaying corpse I can't get no respect!

First, the run started at 3:00 in the afternoon on what turned out to be an uncharacteristically warm day for October. We were feeling every one of those nearly 80 degrees as we tromped along. Thanks to the heat my zombie makeup practically did transform me into the undead. Not only did that thick stuff block my sweat and accelerate my overheating but it also gave me the sensation that I was falling apart which, due to my disintegrating latex, I actually was. It’s a tad alarming to wipe your perspiring forehead and find blood on your fingers even if you know that blood originated from a bottle you dumped thoroughly all over your face.

Brains are good. Brains are tasty. One of these days I'll get some...maybe.

My second issue with this race was that it was a little too authentically chaotic. It involved three laps around the fairgrounds but the designated route changed on each loop and there were no directing signs, which meant that everyone was literally running around in circles with no idea where they were supposed to be going. That old trick of just following the runners in front of you was no help; it’s not like those people knew where they were headed either or were necessarily even on the same lap as you.

The undead were starving and ready to sprint. Nothing like the incentive of a little intestinal gorging to hurry you along.

And it wasn’t just the participants that were confused. When Jason completed his three laps and then tried to finish the race he was told by a volunteer that he needed to go back around yet again. That guy absolutely refused to let Jason pass. Huh? Though robbed of his impressive finish time, Jason did accomplish his goal of catching up to Cam. I guess the promise of a delicious Camburger sufficiently quickened his step.

The humans taunted us fiends from behind the safety of closed door(s)??? Good thing zombies aren't too bright because it would seem that those people didn't adequately think this situation through.

Like Jason, all of our finish times weren’t even close to accurate owing to the varying routes we took. But we succored our race frustrations by stuffing our faces afterwards with waffles and frites from Bruges. Waffles may not be quite as appealing as brains but when they’re chocolate filled I think it’s a close tossup.

Watch out boys we'll chew you up!

As a side note, we will give this race another shot next year. I suspect the organizers have received many a complaint and will not make the same mistakes again.

Girls Gone Running

What do you get when you combine a cold rainy Saturday morning and hundreds of tough chicks in sweaty garb? If you are now lost in thought envisioning some hybrid between a wet t-shirt contest and American Gladiators drag your mind out of the gutter and back onto the asphalt.

On cue hundreds of women begin booking it across the puddled pavement.

I just ran the Love Your Body 10K, the biggest women’s only race in Utah, with my sister-in-law and our friend Abigail. Although the temperatures were chilly during this event and we got drizzled on as we treaded along, it was a pleasant and empowering run.

Girls were jumping at this race but not on trampolines.

The race course wound through the Thanksgiving Point Gardens, which were a lovely diversion. 6.2 miles flies by when you have pretty flowers to distract you from the pavement. Beautiful blooms weren’t our only source of amusement however. Our hefty feminine mass, over a thousand strong, elicited honks from passing cars and cheers from stroller-toting chaps waiting on the sidelines. We know that we look pretty darn good in spandex but thanks for your support anyhow.

Way to go ladies! You showed that rain and the male species which gender really has a delicate constitution. Every one of you idle men have been called out. We women have set the pace so run all you fat boys run!

Up to Par

Jason and I have a very long and varied list of hobbies so what’s one more?

That hubby of mine suggested that I provide golf lessons for the both of us as a birthday present to him this year. I was game for trying a new game.

When I was a teenager my dad encouraged me and my younger siblings to take up golf but that didn't happen. As is evident by my awkward swing.

We took a series of lessons from Tele Wightman, a golf pro that teaches at the Thanksgiving Point and Ranches golf courses. He was a great instructor and I would recommend him to anyone seeking to become a better swinger.

Jason had never ever played golf before but his shots improved quickly...too quickly. Dang that boy!

Jason and I learned golfing basics and that golf is a pretty complicated sport. There’s a lot more to it than you’d think: hand positions, leg positions, rotation, aim, ball spin, contact points, and much more. It’s a lot to try to sort through as a beginner. Jas had better luck figuring it all out than me. I guess he’s just naturally gifted or I’m just naturally challenged. But hey, I make contact with the ball more often than not these days so good for me.

Our teacher, Tele Wightman, was very patient with us and our incompetency.

Now that I feel like I’ve got a handle on where to place my hands on the handle, Jason and I are going to get out there and practice so we can excel at being not quite the worst golfers on the planet. With a little work we might just be that good.