A man with a tall, slender build seemed the bastion of athleticism during last Saturday’s 5k run. Dressed in head-to-toe spandex, he was overtaking participants on the dirt course, making great strides to finish within his wave’s Top 40. Guy looked like your typical runner with the standard running gear. He had the Speedo wear. He had the visor. He had the Oakley’s. He was, to me, the Michael Phelps of this adrenaline-filled disturbia. His presence, however, made me revel in my inadequacies. Built-in backpacks (and side-packs). Not to mention, smoker’s lungs that made this runner huff and puff every few paces.
It occurred to me that I was now a case study for the “before” part in those infomercials (oh, the side-packs), a thesis of sociological inferiority to said runner that is, until a zombie popped out of the bushes, prompting said masculine dude to scream his lungs out like some becky Lolita, past the horde of zombies threatening to take his life, or rather, his life flags. Yes, he succeeded (unscathed) and yes, how very Midas Marquez!
The runner’s revelation (and eventual disclaimer) made for the morning’s biggest laugh if only it had the right ambiance to allow the brash comedy to fester behind this ridiculous spoof movie situation, over popcorn and movie house air-conditioning perhaps, as opposed to tall grass, burning sun, worn-out sneaks, and the kind of dirt that sprays on yo’ face.
Welcome to the madhouse
Outbreak Manila the five-kilometer run at Nuvali which saw over 2,000 runners and zombie enthusiasts such as myself and the model runner enduring the mythical Laguna heat to carry out our respective tasks. For us, it was simple: complete the run with at least one life flag left on your runner’s belt and you would be branded “survivor” (they give you three red flags at the start).
Being a “survivor” meant hanging an Outbreak Manila shirt on your winner’s wardrobe and walking away with goodie bags from the sponsors. Having all three life flags taken from you declares you a “casualty.” You can still finish the run but you are deprived of the swag and, more importantly, the urgency to survive which is where a huge chunk of the fun and excitement lies.
Zombie real time
Mounting my runner’s belt on my waist, right above my pharaoh’s sash (runners are encouraged to come in costume. I was supposed to wear a neon orange life vest but, alas, it was too hot) I took my position behind several other runners at the starting line. The sight of the zombies sauntering before me, one daring enough to take on our hundreds-strong group to mount his first slaughter, brought me back to when I was just sitting on my bed earlier that morning, eating breakfast, and re-watching the eerie video teaser that Outbreak Manila streamed on their website (www.outbreakmanila.com).
My friend Vicky Velasco, a former prod girl who is now a visual merchandiser for Fully Booked, is seen running for her life amid a stolid scenery that had been dotted with trees that were lined and connected with cautionary tape. She looks back, and then darts forward, until a zombie grabs her prompting a scream. Scene cuts to a guy who finds himself surrounded by zombies on both sides. We are left wondering what happens to him. A tree moves in slow-mo as the clouds behind it speed by really fast. And then a group of survivors is revealed to be running for their lives. A token product placement of an energy drink ensues, and also a game of heart-pounding survivor-zombie patintero, before the group comes face to face with the “herd” including a now zombiefied Vicky. The music escalates. Run Fast. Run Faster. Run Hard. Run Harder. Run For Your Life.
Shaken, not stirred
Here I was, seconds away before running the marathon, partially regretting the early morning drive to Laguna but anxious-excited to go through it and hopefully survive the experience. An alarm signals the start of our quest to get past the zombies who were determined to steal our flags. Some successes here and there for our flesh-hungry nemeses life flags were seen sprawled over the concrete path early on in the game. Soon after, I would find myself facing a horde of zombies, doing kembots and kalembangs to evade them in relative succession.
Tell me this: how does one get past zombies in the multitude when you are but one person protecting your three flags? The answer: teamwork which often meant letting others take the fall while you run through unscathed. Better their life flags than mine, right? In life-or-death situations, it’s every man for himself. And also, I wanted that goddamn shirt.
In the heat of the moment (and the Nuvali sun), runners often forgot that this had all been a simple game. For an hour or so, this post-apocalyptic world was our reality, simulated by narrow dirt paths, tall grass, pseudo-jungles and well-heeled zombies yes, even one that resembled (and had the moves of) Michael Jackson. Some participants were so into it that they found themselves sustaining wounds and bruises even slamming themselves on the ground just to protect their life flags. What is “commitment”?
I myself sustained a tiny sprain trying to avoid this one jeje zombie who was trying to sequester my flag. I overcame him (koyah) then got down on all fours and crawled beneath a military net for an additional life flag. Soon after, I clawed my way through a gartered obstacle course, and then through a maze, which was the last of Outbreak Manila’s many obstacles, not to mention a “Choose Your Own Path” fork on the road. One was shorter with more zombies, and one was longer with less. Beneath that awful sun, hmmm… it really does force you to think, doesn’t it?
The highlight of the morning was probably when the runners had to put on zombie guts (wet strips of cloth which you pluck out of a dirty vat), and then walk like a zombie, or in my case, like an Egyptian with my pharaoh’s sash of a costume, past a zombie herd. The theatricality of it was divine. It was a priceless moment, as priceless as the moment when my group sang Thriller and bade zombie Michael Jackson to strut his “strutter” towards the end of the race.
At some point, we took out our camera phones and started shooting away until we forgot that he had been a zombie who could take our life flags anytime. “Boo!” said zombie MJ after luring us in, as we scuttled off in panic and reached for the finish line. It was another high point for the morning’s festivities.
With a city so congested with fun runs, dirt, dust, sun and all, Outbreak Manila was a breather. I finished with two life flags and proved to myself that size is merely an illusion. Anyone with determination can finish a 5K run, yes, even when there are zombies on every corner, and even if you don’t have a Bench body. Now, how about we try this at night, shall we? Night vision goggles!