Zombies aren’t anything special to me, but they’ve gotten quite a bit of PR lately thanks to the resurgence of zombie literature, zombie movies, and zombie games. Several years ago a friend who worked in the computer game industry confessed “zombies are the new WWII” with regards to every studio falling over themselves to make a zombie game or at least insert some kind of Zombie Mode. Don’t get me wrong. I can enjoy the new zombie brand that has emerged from the dead (again). I just think the “zombie people” should realize they’re just like the “vampire people,” but without the terrible fake accents.
Why am I talking about zombies, though? Because apparently I’m going to be attacked by them.
When Zombies Attack
I’ve long maintained that I only run when chased. I have a number of friends who are runners. Some even claim they enjoy the experience. (I suspect they are liars, but have yet to determine a motive other than maybe a desire to turn their masochism into sadism by sharing their misery.) I do not enjoy the experience. Or, at least, I don’t think I enjoyed the experience based on what I remember of it. Without testing my memory with depressing mathematics, I am comfortable in my estimation that I haven’t run for more than five continuous minutes in about twenty years.
So, obviously I have concerns about my apparent need to flee from zombies thanks to friends finding the loophole in my “I only run when chased” approach to life. Run for Your Lives is a 5K obstacle course with the introduction of zombies that chase you. Seeing as how it’s tomorrow, I’m starting to consider the idea that I should start training or something. Unfortunately, weapons are prohibited on the course, so time at the range practicing headshots is just as much of a waste of time as the stretches I’ll do before the run begins.
I’m sure it’ll turn out alright, though. I mean, just look at the happy endings in all those zombie movies. Oh, right.
Unpreparedness is the New Zombie Preparedness
I’ve adopted a unique coping mechanism to address my lack of training. Zombie apocalypses always seem to strike when people aren’t ready. I’m not going to have time to do a bunch of stretches before my little town is overrun with the walking/running dead. More than likely I will have just finished eating nine tacos for dinner and settled in with a pitcher of mojitos within arm’s reach in front of the television. That is my default state of readiness.
If I trained for this upcoming run, I would be deluding myself about my state of readiness in the future. I need to be able to escape the groaning horde on my worst day. Sure, I could live in a constant state of readiness, but I’ve met some of those people. They scare me more than zombies, to be honest. Plus, how much time will I have wasted if it turns out there’s never a zombie apocalypse? That’s time I could have spent eating and drinking after all!
Assuming I survive this test apocalypse, I will report on the success of my strategy. After all, it’s always the Everyman of zombie stories that ends up being the hero that survives, right? And, even if he doesn’t, he goes to his un-death knowing he got to eat way more tacos than the professional runner who got bit when she was stretching before fleeing the zombies.