Run with the bulls Pamplona

“8:00 a.m.: A rocket goes off and the mass of runners stirs. People start jumping up and down, trying to see down the street. [...] 8:02 a.m.: All I can focus on are flashes of other runners. White and red sensory overload. I see Jarmo and Nicole S. in front of me. I know Nicole B. is behind me, but I keep running. A couple is sprawled on the cobblestones ahead, but instead of tumbling with them, I jump over them. This is where my nerve fails. I spot an open barricade through which I can dive, but I don’t. I cling to my adrenaline like a strung out junkie. 8:03 a.m.: My body moves more lithely than I’d imagined. I shout at Jarmo to keep going. I see the tunnel for Plaza del Toros and realize I’m headed for the bullring, which is precisely where I don’t want to go. There is a human pileup at the entrance. I screech to a halt, unsure what to do. There are more bulls coming, and if I don’t move, things could turn bad. Before I can react, the pile of people disentangle themselves and clear the path. I shoot past them into the bullring, gasping for air. A Spanish man grabs me and plants a sloppy kiss on my eye. He exhales all the air from his lungs and laughs wildly. He’s ecstatic to be alive. I notice for the first time that I’m also intact. I made it.”

“The rocket goes off signalling the start of the bull run, and I see people start running madly. However I hold my spot at the corner against the wall. If I run too soon, I will end up missing running with the bulls or get hemmed in by the herd. I am nervous and giddy with anticipation. I feel like I am about to plunge off a precipice. The first bulls come roaring by [...] I see other bull runners in front of me look behind me with panic – we are like a school of fish that veers away when a shark appears. I instinctively move slowly to the sides at a diagonal and look back. Out of nowhere, a bull comes up behind me. I run faster and ease my way to the side – if I move too quickly across, I will collide with other bull runners. It is a full sensory Technicolor experience and I feel very alive and aware of my surroundings at all times. I run quickly, and see bodies sprawled down in front of me. I leap over them and keep running. Whether they were gored or tripped and fell, doesn’t matter at this stage. If you stand still, you will be knocked over by the freight train barrelling down right behind you.”

“We were both breathless and overjoyed at what we thought was the completion of a major bucket list accomplishment, so we let our guard down a little as we made our way toward the tunnel into the arena. [...] Then suddenly, as we entered the crowded tunnel into the bullring, a most unfortunate of places to be caught with a bull, someone behind us yells in a panicked voice, “BUUUULLLLLLLLL. THERE’S ANOTHER BULL COMING. RUUUUN!!!!!!” And just like that, it was as if someone had injected a barrel full of adrenaline directly our your hearts as the realization instantly set in that we were about to be trapped in the infamous bottleneck tunnel with one of the last bulls that had fallen behind the pack and was still charging behind us. At this point I remember looking back in disbelief, but sure enough one final bull was barreling right towards us in this narrow passageway as all of us tried desperately to press ourselves against the wall while still shoving our way forward into the open expanse of the arena ahead where we could immediately dart to the side and spread out. That was probably the single most terrifying moment of the entire Running of the Bulls experience for me, and my friend who was still by my side then said it was the same for him as well.”

“I had done a little homework prior to the morning I did the run and figured out that I wanted to already be about halfway down the route when the first rockets went off and the bulls started their run. The two friends who did the run with me and I were all super excited but also super nervous. As the minutes ticked down towards 8am, our levels of adrenaline and anxiety were through the roof as we bounced around getting warmed up with thousands of other runners packed all around us. [...] Then finally we could hear the faint jingling of bells tied around the helper-bulls that were there to prod along the bigger, heavier and more dangerous steers. As the bells grew nearer and nearer, the crowd’s cheers got louder, our pace picked up from a jog to an all-out run, and the thunder of the main bull pack began to roar right behind us as these massive beasts came into view. [...] Most of the run was a crazy blur of near-panic, but I do clearly remember the sight of the first bull behind me during one risky look-back while sprinting forward at full speed. I could see people literally diving out of the way of the bulls into boarded up shop doorways along the route. There were others trying to take up the fetal position on the ground as they rolled while falling down.”

“After enduring a cold 90 minutes peering through the gap in a fence on Friday night for what turned out to be a rubbish view of little more than a rush of bodies and a horn-topped blur of brown hide – and then listening to my friends’ caws about how easy the run had been – I was determined to experience the ritual first hand on Saturday. I was confident that, being fleet of foot, I could avoid any real danger and gleefully update my Facebook status from somewhere other than a hospital bed. However as I walked backwards, with three determined friends, from the arena side of the route right to the start line I soon began to have serious misgivings.”