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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.