Bull running you say?

Now, I've heard of and gone through with some pretty bad ideas in my time. Running in a throng of Spaniards dressed like idiots being chased by bulls certainly ranked right up there near the top though. I guess I really had no idea what exactly to expect before I got there. I just planned on showing up to Pamplona, running like I was being chased by death (or death with horns), laughing at the end and getting the heck out of Dodge.So I arrived about mid morning expecting to run in the afternoon and make tracks to Madrid. Well, when I got to the festival, they told me that the running only happens every morning at 8am. The idea goes from bad to worse. To say that I function poorly early in the morning is an understatement since it implies that I function at all. Oh what the hell though, I'm already here.

That night, Pamplona turns into essentially a great city-wide piss-up since everyone survived a brush with death a few hours before (apparently there are runnign for about 2 weeks, who knew?) I figure that if I'm going to have to ger up early, I might as well be hungover with the rest of them.

So I get up real early this morning to scout the place out. Weak you say? I'm too old for this crap and need to get my bearings first. And what do I find? Apparently, it's not enough to be chased by bulls, the Spanish also feel the need to drench the cobblestone streets in wine just to subtract a little traction and add some excitement. Excellent. So I'm there trying to gauge precisely how long I can run in front of the bull before it overtakes me and I'm in some trouble. See, I've never ran with bulls, or other farm animals, so my perception of their enraged speed is a little cloudy. So I just tried to find a place to enter that looked like it had quite a few easily accessable exits because I didn't want to be that chump you see on tv getting caught against a wall.

The clock strikes 8, every bit of advice I was given melts to nothing and I hear a commotion from above so I start jogging a little. I'm engulfed by the crowd so I start running a little harder. I hear the bulls coming so I start burning it. I haven't run this fast since I played football. People start bailing around me. I look for a good exit nearby and decide to sneak a peek back and see 6 bulls loving the look of my tender ass. Shit. I veer left, try and jump a barrier at top speed but misjudge it horribly. My legs catch and I go into the crowd face first. Luckily the crowd was tightly packed and I never hit the ground. I get up with a sweet bruise to my leg, a ringing head and a seemingly pulled hamstring. Not a bad price to pay for a few of the most exhilirating moments of a lifetime.

So now I'm sitting on a train to Madrid but I thought I would write it out now since I'm still jumping at everything around me even 8 hours after the run. Aw well, I'm sure I'll find something to calm the nerves in Madrid!

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