In the middle of August, I was lucky enough to participate in Reed Street Production’s Run For Your Lives zombie infested 5K in upstate New York. It was an event that I had been counting down to and looking forward to since I registered in February. I’m pleased to say that it did not disappoint.
I registered to not only run the 5k, but I was slated to be a chaser zombie as well. I started training for the run in the spring, when the weather was cooperating and was able to jump into it with both feet. Little did I know that conditioning my body for completing a 5k on relatively flat ground, going for speed and endurance, was useless.
The Run For Your Lives New York 5k was held at the Area 51 motocross track in Batavia, New York (http://www.area51motocross.com/). I had done some research, I had Google’d the track; I visited the track’s website and saw aerial views of their land. I was foolish. Those pictures do no justice to the 20+ foot steep inclines and drops, nor did they show the area of the course that was located in the woods. Gnarled roots, knee-deep mud pits, swampy areas and water holes were all surprises to be had that Saturday.
As my wave was called, I joined the several hundred others that were prepared to be chased down by the living dead, hungry for our flags of health. Our emcee, KOM (@MrKeepOnMoving) explained a few rules that we would be expected to follow during our venture into the unknown. After it was explained to us that we were required to keep our flags to our hips and not to “punch first and ask questions later†as hitting the zombies was a no-no, he counted us down.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1- RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! Go, go, go!†was our starting pistol as we all took off for the track. Once we made it through the tunnel we were on to our first obstacle. A relatively easy accomplishment to boost our spirits, it was no surprise when everyone cleared the small bales of hay that were laid across the track. The 20 foot steep hill following the hay bales, was where first blood was drawn. I was taken out just at the bottom of the hill by an unassuming rock. I was surprised by the number of runners and zombies alike that stopped to make sure I was alright. The zombies approaching me was a little unnerving, as I was afraid they were only after my flags. I was soon proven to be wrong when several of them asked once again, if I was not only alright but if it was okay for them to help me up. After getting up and walking it off, I was soon on my way over the rest of the dirt track, littered with zombies and hills. It was no easy task to not only run up hills but dodge flag-hungry zombies.
About half way through the course we entered the woods. By that time I had picked up with a group of three others. As we trekked through the woods we kept each other company. It wasn’t too far into the woods that we encountered the mud. Several people were losing shoes, I opted to go barefoot. More than once, I sunk to my knees in the sticky, smelly swamp-esque mud. As I was still bleeding from my earlier encounter with the rock on the hill, I decided to forego the mud obstacle. It was a military-style mud crawl, with barbed wire and wooden X supports. It wasn’t long after fighting our way along the rest of the path with mud ruts and tree roots often tripping several people up, we encountered our next obstacle. Three plastic culvert pipes were laid side by side in a 2 foot deep water hole. Each pipe was roughly ten feet long, with “intestines†hanging from the tops. Surprisingly it was rather easy as far as the obstacles went, only slightly gross as the water was muddy and unable to see what you were really crawling in. The cold water was rather refreshing after sweating in the heat avoiding having our flags stolen.
After leaving the forest portion of the track we encountered more zombies as well as another obstacle. The smokehouse was a double-length carport with tarps along both sides as well as over the top halves of the entrance and exit. Filled with thick smoke, we were expected to crawl along the ground while avoiding the electrically charged wires hanging down. Once through the smokehouse, there was another group of zombies waiting to steal our flags. From there, we snaked our way across the course, encountered more hills and even larger hay bales, the blood pit, and then a wooden frame that allowed runners to scale a fence into the home stretch. Another group of zombies lay in waiting just before the finish line, which was a large, electrified fence signaling the “safe area.†I made it to that very last stretch, just fifty feet from the finish with one flag left on my belt. Alas, I was an easy meal for the hungry zombies. I’m not ashamed to say that I left the course as one of the many infected. However, I’m far from the only one to have left in that situation. The total numbers for New York’s run was a staggering 2077 runners infected with only a small portion of the total registered, 519, leaving as survivors.
Immediately after completing the course, I had to check in at the ZTC, the Zombie Transformation Center, for my shift as a chaser zombie. I stood in line waiting for my turn at the table with the knife-wielding madmen, where they cut holes and frayed my clothes to give me that haggard look that seems to be fashionable for the in-crowd zombies. I stepped into my tattered shorts and tank top, proceeding to the next line, which started my zombification process. There were two different airbrush makeup lines, one for stumblers, who had that been-dead-awhile look; and the chasers, who were sporting more of a recently-dead look. Once our base coats were airbrushed on, we stopped at a station where we had little bits of “blood†splattered on us, giving that speckled appearance. From there we moved on to the small scale blood application station. There we had thick, goopy blood rubbed on with a stick to give a fresh scab type look, with squeeze bottles of blood dripped on us. That signaled an end to our time under the ZTC tent. Once leaving the tent, we were able to pick up bottles of water and snacks that were provided for us free of charge. Outside the ZCT tent another line was formed so that we could all get our large scale blood applied. And when I say applied, what I mean is, we stood in front of a chain-link fence while a guy stuck his hands into five gallon buckets of fake blood and threw it as us, not once but twice, applied to both our fronts and our backs, giving us the completed zombie look. From there we waited for our instructions as well as our course officials to take us to our designated spot on the field.
Once we were all made up and appropriately bloody enough to pass for believable zombies, we received our rules once again. Being informed that we weren’t allowed to grab the runners and what areas of the course were allowed to take what flags. With the final instructions given, we were asked for those of us that wanted the excess leftover blood tossed on us to stand grouped together in a group. After the last of the blood splattered, we were broken up according to our sections.
Once on the course, we anxiously awaited for our first victims to run through. I was placed in the section directly behind the smokehouse. As we saw the first runners round the bend, the smokehouse fired up and as the fog rolled out of the encasement, our first victims worked their ways through to us. It was easy to hear how close our first meal was to the exit, more often than not we would here a loud snap followed by one expletive or another. Soon enough we saw them crawl out from the fog. As they got their bearings and took in the sight in front of them, several didn’t wait for a strategy and just took off running through our midst. The foray of the living against the living dead lasted for several long, grueling hours. Finally we were notified that the last runners were making their way through to us. As the last four runners made it to us, instead of attempting to steal flags we offered the stragglers high-fives and words of encouragement for making it as far as they had.
All in all, it was an amazing day filled with adrenalin, fear, laughter and good times. Aside from some all too real, yet minor, bloodshed on my part; I look forward to being able to register, anticipate, count down and participate in Reed Street Productions’ Run For Your Lives Zombie Infested 5k again next year!
