Real-life Zombieland

In the event of a zombie apocalypse, follow these guys! (If you can keep up.)

This weekend I ventured out to the unincorporated village of Darlington, Maryland, looking for zombies. I was psyched up to watch the first official Run for Your Lives, a 5k zombie obstacle course. From the second I arrived, I realized that deciding not to run was a mistake. People of all levels of fitness were competing because it was simply too damn awesome to sit out.


I walked up to the race location, passing the early waves of runners as they headed to change before the Apocalypse Party. They were drenched in mud and still radiating excitement. I caught snippets of conversations as we crossed paths. "That would have been a badass course even without the zombies!" "I can't believe they cut the swimming section before our wave! I wanted to try it." "You could tell who the fast zombies were going to be by the huge pile of health flags at their feet."

The crowd looked like they would have been equally at home at any convention. People were dressed in everything from Warwear to cosplay down to the one guy in swim trunks with "I taste like chicken!" emblazoned on his chest in sharpie. I whipped through registration and the bag check, and arrived in time to catch an impromptu costume contest.

The poor emcee was unfamiliar with tertiary Star Wars characters.
Hilarity and mocking ensued as "Foba Mett" was introduced.

Between the sponsors' booths and the smell of funnel cakes, the event space felt very similar to a county fair. However, I don't remember the county fairs when I was a kid having zombie-proofed cars and a LAN tent. Subaru and other sponsors did a good job of geeking up their promotional materials for the intended audience.

The ability to camp with a LAN party? Relevant to my interests.

The sponsors and vendors were set up in a large rectangle around the party/concert field. The race was out in the woods beyond, but a few obstacles were close enough to watch. As I started to walk back towards the race area, I noticed that they were providing a place for the recently zombified to clean off.

Does the fence keep the zombies in or us out?

I went down the hill, and I saw that the zombie wash water was headed the same way... directly towards the maze.

At faire, now here? I am the champion of finding Waldo.

I then found out that the runoff had made the hay maze about 20% cooler. I know this zombie looks sad about it, but it turned into a 20-man water slide every time a new wave passed through. When I asked her, the zombie said that all the slipping just made it easier to steal health flags.

Wait... Keanu?

The exit was hidden right in front of where I was standing, but the maze continued up and to the right. A large crowd of onlookers had gathered to peer over the low walls. Each new set of runners, without fail, headed for the winding dead end rather than the quick exit, even though the spectators were trying to help! Evidently when dozens of people are yelling "Dead end! This way!" and gesturing wildly, the runner only hears the last bit. 

Some ingenious survivalists took one look at the trap and decided that it was easier to hop the barricades than to navigate the maze. Over time, a few shortcuts eroded into the hay walls, which (to the delight of the crowd) only served to further confuse the runners afterwards.

The weather was perfect for running: cool and heavily overcast with no rain. Sadly, this meant that it started to get dark about an hour ahead of the technical sunset. Because of safety concerns over the low light, not everyone was able to run. The event staff had this sorted and solved before I'd even heard that it was a problem. Announcing apologies over the loudspeaker, they explained that they would refund automatically and immediately all the cancelled runners' participation fees, party admission, camping costs, and parking charges.


I notice they've already curbed the problem for next year by setting deadlines on runner registration. This year, if you arrived early enough, you could pay a fee to upgrade a spectator pass to a runner pass. I don't think any of the organizers knew how explosively popular the event would be. I met runners who had driven from Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, and even Canada. Luckily, there are more upcoming Run for Your Lives events all  over the place.


Once it was full dark, the Apocalypse party began. The runners were a few drinks ahead of everyone else because, after ID check, you could turn in your racing bib for a free beer. (So you're telling me I not only turned down the chance to flee from zombies, I also turned down a free beer? I think I need a minute.)

Richard Christy and Sal Governale announced the winners.

Unfortunately, I had to cut my evening short to make the drive back down to Virginia. But if the start was any indication, the the party was truly impressive. I doubt anyone headed back to the tents before about 3am.


So, now that you're signed up for the race next year. Here's some parting advice. Plan to camp. If possible, come the day before, run early, and spend the rest of the day partying without having to worry about driving home. Pack light because they do check bags, and because you might be squeezing onto a shuttle bus and/or walking half a mile to the camp site. Wear clothes that can be absolutely demolished. And remember: Rule #1: Cardio. Cardio. Cardio.


If you still need to be convinced, check out the photos on their Facebook page.