Nothing Motivates Quite Like an Apocalypse

by Aine C.

So, It's mid-January. If you're like most of us, you've already missed one or two of those classes at the gym, maybe even decided it's a bit too "hardcore" to start running now, in all this cold. You'll hang out on /r/GetMotivated and upvote posts like "Next year, you'll wish you'd started today." (Or is that just me? Because I have to tell you, bro, I don't even lift.)

Only thing worse than a raptor, is a zombie raptor.

(image via Shirt Woot)

If you want a rant of pure motivation to help with your resolutions, I recommend David Wong's recent Cracked article. That's not really my thing. I'm just here because I like zombies, and back in October I got to try running away from them at Run for Your Lives.

I attended the 5k again this year. The short review is that I recommend throwing your money where your resolutions are and signing up now for the 2013 Maryland event. Keep in mind that early registration will save you up to $30 (and at the time of this writing, reg is already half full). I say "fun," but I need to add a few more adjectives. It's also really cold, and incredibly difficult, and seriously terrifying. Last year, I reviewed Run for Your Lives and I spent all day regretting that I hadn't signed up as a runner. So this year I fired up the C25K, my favorite Zombies Run app and started in. I'm not the strongest runner, but I was going to try and trump experience with passion. Besides, we had this shiny, new Go Pro camera I wanted to try out.

I signed up thinking I could just walk past the zombies and do my intervals as usual. Run-walk-run-walk, no problem right? I figured even if I went slowly, the obstacles couldn't be too insane. And the zombies could only grab flags. How scary could they be?

"They'll just keep coming." (Image by RFYL)

When I see zombies, I sprint.

When zombies see a camera, they sprint.

And they're faster.

While my muscles might remember what it was like to be a midfielder, my asthmatic lungs do not. After half the race, I had some nice people explain I'd be getting on the golf cart and hanging out down at the first aid station for a little while.

Thankfully, my medic and number one choice for a post-apocalyptic team mate slapped on my Go Pro and finished out the race. Keep an eye out for our upcoming video of her badassery. The end gets a bit cloudy because one of the obstacles: lake. Just a dip in some cool Maryland lake water, in October, nowhere near the end of the race. Then, there's the waterslide.

Earlier that month, my teammate had done Buff Betty and completed around five and a half hours of orienteering, mountain biking, canoeing, and trail running. As we were standing waiting to reclaim her gear, she claimed Buff Betty had been easier than the insanity of the RFYL 5k. Seriously. The freezing obstacles and zombie sprints were that exhausting.

Speaking of the gear line, I do have a few criticisms. Mostly, it's just the gear line. The race took an hour or two, but that gear line stretched out to about a three or four hour wait at its worst. Easy solution: have a non-runner friend. Have everyone who's running with you pitch in to buy them a spectator pass. They sit with your gear playing Pokemon until you all emerge in a heap of icy mud and satisfaction. (Hint: bring those chemical heat packs, clean clothes, towels, and a few wool blankets).

Some runners were pissed at the rules that won't let you bring any food or water bottles that are not still "factory sealed." But the organizers were excessively clear about that beforehand, so I do think that anyone raging out really only has themselves to blame.

Sunday, the entire second run was cancelled as Maryland was declared to be in a state of emergency. I honestly do not understand the people who are mad at the organizers for this. The attendees received refunds and got to remain safely not in the middle of Clusterfuck Sandy. I'm glad RFYL did the right thing and kept people safe, even though I'm equally sure they lost a ton of money for it.

But if you remember, I had a few criticisms about last year. And those were all sorted out as the event begun hosting in a dozen new locations, refining and learning with each iteration. I have no doubt that the inconveniences from this year will also be sorted out. I'm glad to see the event growing and thriving.

Know what else is awesome? The event isn't Halloween weekend. So it won't be so goddamned cold, and it won't spoil any costume party plans that you may have. Most excellent.

Lastly, I know zombies might not really be your go-to choice for motivation. For you regular resolutioners, here's a generic bit of seriously fucking powerful, distilled, pure encouragement:

And one for the road:

For more information, check out the Run for Your Lives website, and register for the Maryland event here.

Podcast - Interview with Hallow Inc.

Dear DC Geeks, I know that you all have been patiently waiting for our Jennie Breeden and Danielle Corsetto interviews. They are coming, I promise on my geek card. However, they'll keep being awesome even after Halloween. So I'm cutting in this week to discuss Hallow Inc's urban haunted house, Project 4.1: The Warehouse.

The masterminds of Hallow Inc: John Chris Hoover, Joyce Roldan,
John McCambridge, Christian Lowe, and Justin Watson (image by Hallow Inc.)

Right-click here to download the mp3.

The Warehouse is an urban haunted house, open every night between now and November 3rd. And I'm so psyched after our visit last week, that I won't even make you hunt down the address: 11840 Rockville Pike, Rockville MD (It's metro accessible, has tons of parking, and is ADA accessible). That's how much I'm hoping people will go.

We have a great show this week with Joyce Roldan, Hallow Inc's Director of Operations. We have the story of how five friends with the perfect mix of skills came together to make a haunted house faster than anyone thought possible. We also get horror stories of people who took the Warehouse's background story a bit too seriously (no, they are not real zombies, so you can not bring a firearm)! If you haven't rushed off to buy tickets, would you kindly give it a listen?

Oh, and that background noise is the haunted house. We did the interview on site, so all those horrified, shrill screams? Those aren't made by my GarageBand magic. Those are echoes of genuine attendee terror, leading to the quote of the week: "The screams speak for themselves."

A few more details about the haunted house that I want to throw out there before you snap up tickets. For safety reasons, please leave your costumes at home. There isn't an age limit, but please use discretion. Some five year olds might find it hilarious, but there's also a running count of how many grown adults have literally pissed themselves in fear. The attraction is frightening enough that attendees are told a safe word, which you can scream out if you need to be whisked away from the zombies. The only price is your dignity and a required mugshot for Hallow Inc's wall of shame.

Doors open at 7:00. The last ticket is sold at midnight. The last group to go through each night has some very special surprises waiting for them. Also, if you're the impatient type, you can shell out a few extra dollars for a speed pass. Given that each night has hundreds of attendees, I'd highly recommend it.

Finally, here's their trailer for the Warehouse:

Zombies, warehouses, and social media, oh my!

• Website
• Facebook
• Ustream
• Youtube
• Twitter (#zombiewhse)
• Wall of Shame photos post to Twitter through Instragram, but you can find them on Webstagram.
• Also check out Onezumi's glowing review!

Joyce also wanted to give a quick shout out to all the sponsors: Community Forklift, Donation Nation, Clean Cut, Stone Lyons Media, Intervention, X3O, DrinkMore Water, and the TJJL Foundation. Hallow Inc. supports several charities, including the American Cancer Society. And many of the directors run additional companies on the side such as Chris Hoover's marketing consultant business, Actualize Studio.

Thanks again to Joyce and the whole Hallow Inc. team for letting me see my coworkers' responses to fear (and for a great Halloween podcast).

Thpoilerth! If you've already been, we ask you not to spoil the last room if you comment below.

Enjoy our podcast? Subscribe via our podcast RSS or iTunes!

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.