Being chased by rabid zombies in the night – running through woods and stomping through murky waters. Running for your life from Zombies whose skin is falling from the bone. That’s what people want when they sign up for a Zombie run. They want to be scared out of their minds. They want to run for their lives.
My teenager who loves all things Zombie and her big sister signed up for the DFW Zombie Run. They’ve been looking forward to it for months. They dressed in black so as not to be seen in the dark. They liked the rain – it would be so much more fun in the wet and mud. They were strategizing before they left – if one of them were cornered by an undead hoard, would the other leave her and go on? But…
Not much strategy required when you’re just running down a sidewalk in the semi-dark. Turns out, the race was pretty lame. Not like the video which inspired fear. The only fear inspired would be for skinning your knee if you happened to slip on the concrete. The course was just a normal sidewalk, with barely any trees or bushes behind which Zombies could hide. The Zombie’s flesh was not putrid and decayed; only lame face paint signified who the Zombies were and who were not. The runners only got three flags (lives), not four. And even though my girls didn’t care, there were no rest/water stations as advertised.
This race boasted that they are the only one which gives cash prizes. But the only prize my girls were really interested in was that of escaping the grasp of deadly Zombies with their lives. Well, they sure escaped with their lives, that’s true. But turns out, the only thing they had to be concerned about was whether they could finish running a 5K – the pseudo Zombies waving as they passed (well, I exaggerate some, but still…) Is it a wonder that the DFW Zombie Run FaceBook fanpage has already been removed??
Are the other races any better? I don’t know. But the video for RunForYourLives.com looks a little more intense. But videos are staged. Who knows? My girls wanted a challenging and horrifying race, and all they got instead were sore legs.
K.L. Romo writes about life on the fringe: teetering dangerously on the edge is more interesting than standing safely in the middle. She is passionate about women’s issues, loves noisy clocks and fuzzy blankets, but HATES the word normal. She is also a book reviewer, her bylines included in The Big Thrill, Washington Independent Review of Books, BookTrib, and Shondaland. Her reviews and articles appear at www.romosreadingroom.com, and you can find her on Twitter @klromo and Instagram @k.l.romo
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