Number 34 Run with the Bulls

    

 Once, when I was in Spain, I went to a bullfight. I'm not really into any kind of blood sport but everyone else was going and it was tradition and I'd read Hemingway and there was so much pageantry and costumes...long story short: I got the dry heaves and had to leave during the first bout.  Even though I was informed that the bulls live a charmed life right up until La Corrida and afterward, the body is butchered and the meat donated to the elderly, I  still felt really bad for the bull and felt some serious liberal guilt for having taken part in its ceremonial demise.
     Well, now the bulls have a chance for revenge. An American version of El Cierro - the Running of the Bulls that occurs in Pamploma, Spain as part of the Festival of Saint Fermin - is making the rounds and will be within driving distance of your dear narrator eleven days from now. I will be joined in this endeavor by my youngest child, Rick, who is also trained as an EMT which makes me feel better if I should happen to be gored or trampled.
     My mom, who thought I was only going to be a spectator, became quite distressed when she found out I was going as a participant. She had attended an event as a child and saw a man get gored in the stomach. As the man fell to the ground, she informed me, his intestines came bloop-bloop-blooping out of the hole in his stomach onto the the street. This image never left her mind. Yow-ZA!! That imagery gave me a vicarious terror response and I was right on to the internet to find a stomach-holding-in garment to prevent any such blooping of my own.  When I was researching appropriate attire for the event, I also saw these images which gave me second thoughts


 Cross your fingers for us!!!!

October 19, 2013, Atlanta, Georgia The Great Bull Run

We did it! This one was pretty exciting! I ran like a maniac and screamed like a little girl the whole way. Here's are it went down:
We arrived at the Georgia International Horse Park, the location of the equestrian events for the 1996 Olympics, around noon and were fitted with multiple bracelets indicating the events/activities for which we were registered. Then we wandered around and visited some of the vendors and listened to the band for awhile. We decided to visit the bulls.

There were 18 bulls but they only used about half of them for each wave and let the others rest. They were getting ready to start the wave before mine so we hung around to see what to expect. There was a big countdown and the cowboys opened the gate while the crowd cheered and then...nothing. The bulls just stood there. This got a massive laugh but the bulls didn't move and finally one of the cowboys got a plastic boat oar and gave a few of the bulls in the back and little nudge and then the little dogies got along. The cowboys rode behind the bulls to keep them moving and the 600 people in that wave took flight! We saw one man get knocked over and trampled and another have to escape over the fence backwards and I started to question my decision to engage in this activity. Before I had time to find the chicken-exit, they called my wave to the starting gate. They checked our bracelets and  we were issued the famous red bandanas (that are only worn by those who run with the bulls) and we entered the ring. This sign  did nothing to ease my reservation.

There was a little pep rally and the announcer went over the rules and then we did the traditional raising of the bandanas. Here's a blurry picture of it

All the runners had to spread out all over the course so we weren't all bunched up. I took a place just past the halfway mark. We did the same countdown that we has seen in the previous wave and the bulls came right out this time. I couldn't see the bulls right away but I could see the other runners start to run like mad and, in seconds, there was a wall of people coming at me so I started running too. I looked to my left and the bulls were galloping right next to me! I could feel the breath of one of them on my arm. I ran all the way to the end of the course thinking that they had all passed me so I turned around to leave the track and there was still one big bull coming! Ahhhhh!!!! I ran for the fence but the bull was so fast that it passed me and was back in the paddock before I even got to the fence.
You can see me running in the still from a video at the front wearing a red beret.

Here I am just after having finished the run. My heart was still pumping like crazy!

Rick 's wave was next. He stayed ALOT closer to the middle than I did so he was right with the bulls and saw the man in front of him get knocked down and trampled and one fool who even managed to mount and ride one of the bulls. Here he is coming off his run looking cool as a cucumber and a picture we took after the run.

       

We headed up to the site for the tomato fight. Rick doesn't like tomatoes. Actually he hates tomatoes. He looked at the pile of tomatoes and indicated that he REALLY wasn't interested in participating in this activity and asked that, since he'd put his life on the line to help me complete this item on my list, might he be excused from it? Actually, the smell of all those rotting tomatoes and the thought of making the four hour trip home covered in their acidic juice didn't appeal to me either so we agreed to skip this part of the celebration.
I had one last thing to do:

I read that, traditionally, one ties one knot in the fringe of the red sash for every bull run in which one participates. This will be my one and only knot.