Pure Adrenaline!
This is simply the best description that I can conjure up when I attempt to explain my experience of El Encierro (The Running of the Bulls) 2008.
Every since I was a young boy, I have always been the proud owner of an extremely wild heart… I as well as most young men came to a time in my life when I felt the need to test my intestinal fortitude and chance providence. This may take the form of fighting in a war in far away place, swimming with the large predators of the ocean, jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, climbing vast mountain peaks in nature’s bare elements or challenging his wits against the speeding enraged bulls of Pamplona.
When I returned from Iraq last year, I began to seriously entertain the notion of "Running with the Bulls". Not to prove anything to anyone else but to feed a curiosity that God had instilled in me as a young boy. A curiosity that simply says “Can I do that?”
The fiesta known as San Fermin, a ten day celebration deeply rooted in tradition is held annually every July in Pampalona Spain. El Encierro as it is known to the Spaniards, literally means “The Closing In”. Though, I didn’t come to a full understanding of this phrase until after my actual run. The infamous Bull Run is the real crowd alluring event of the festival. There is so much to the run that makes it so irresistible to the wild at heart. The actual run distance is only 825 meters (approximately ½ mile) long in it’s entirety but impossible to finish in front of the bulls. The reality is “No one out runs the bulls!”, as I was told from a veteran bull runner. My take on it was more like they are similar to a speeding SUV lead by a set of piercing horns while at the same time possessing the dangerously sharp turning radius of a Smart Car! In the run, there are actually six lighter colored steers that already know the run route and then there are the six darker colored fighting bulls that are professionally bred for there aggressiveness that make up the herd that barrels down the famous narrow streets. It is tradition for the runners to dress in all white while adorning a red handkerchief around the neck and a red sash around the waist. I found this fairly amusing because it seemed like perfectly marked targets for the bulls to know where to apply there goring horns.
The morning of the run we left the comfort of our hotel beds early to ensure that we got the spot on the route where we wanted to begin. My Army buddies and I waited over two hours at the foot of the Pamplona City Hall building, with dire anticipation of the start of the run. As the minute hand of the City Hall clock tower drew nearer to the 8:00 am strike, you could sense an invisible yet thick sensation of eagerness and anxiety mixing in the morning air. Comments and jokes like, “Well, this is your last chance to back out” began to stir about the jam-packed narrow street of runners. Some of the local Spaniards bowed and prayed to Saint Fermin for good luck as the local custom goes before the run. For myself, I prayed straight to Jesus for strength and protection. Then, when we heard the first rocket sound off as a warning to all the runners that the bulls were about to be released, we began to pick up a small trot but a course we instinctively looked back “just to be safe”. I was so lackadaisical that I was able to stop and say hi to Mel on the side and let her take a quick picture. So, there we were, running the same streets where thousands of other adrenaline junkies have run before us. My friend Joe had his camera out filming as we laughed and were jogging along the cobblestone streets. The feeling was amazing; there was electricity in the air. Then, I heard the second rocket fire off, indicating that the bulls were unleashed on there destructive path of goring and trampling humans in the same narrow street that I was frolicking on. So, of course while “maintaining my bearing” I began to pick up my pace to a steady run. Our tight group of five began to lose its formational integrity. I found myself consistently looking back for the incoming bulls. All I see are the faces of the people behind me beginning to panic and then I see it, an overpowering sense of urgency and fear in there eyes. Wow, it is astonishing to me to see the power and contagiousness of fear in a life or death situation. Automatically, I began in a dead out sprint while looking over my shoulder and at the same time trying not to collide with other runners all around me. I suddenly look around and realize that we are running on a street that is lined with nothing but three and four story buildings on each side with no cattle fences to jump through in case of an emergency. That is a frightening sensation in ones stomach, knowing that there is no place to go and there are a dozen or so massive stampeding bulls barreling through this narrow alley that I am hopelessly running in. I began hearing men behind me scream, so I looked back again anticipating the imminent danger that was fast approaching my position. Then I saw past the ocean of red and white traditional dress, heads bobbing and they began to give way faster than Moses parting the Red Sea. Following them were enormous dark figures demanding passage through the slim street. Those men that didn’t dash quickly enough out of there path fell victim to the “Closing In”. Suddenly the walls began to get taller and the street even narrower. That is the very moment that I began to understand the real meaning of “El Encierro”. I looked straight forward and began to sprint like I had never sprinted before, trying to avoid getting caught up with men that were stumbling and falling all around out of pure fear. I began to hear a disastrous commotion behind me and then honed in on the sound of hooves pounding the cobblestone. I felt like the bulls were right on top of me. I said over and over to myself, “Don’t Fall down! Do not fall down!” Guys began to dart across in front of me for the false sense of security of the walls that entrapped us. Then I finally saw my deliverance, cattle guard fences up ahead where the street opens up in front of the arena. That was my goal! I turned up the juice and passed up several guys as I looked back again. I clearly saw three of the bulls on a steady path for me. The street started to open up and I began to get plowed into by several men’s elbows that were making a mad dash for the fences. Everything in my self preserving nature began to say, “Hey Crazy, just jump through the fence and your safe!” but my wild at heart self took over and said “This is why you are here! Run with the bulls!” So I did. I glanced over my right shoulder and realized they were too close for comfort and I moved over to the left side of the street as I ran in awe at the several tons of bull muscle running to my right. It was a very humbling moment. As we were rounding the last corner into the arena straight away, another part of the herd passed me by. Other crazier dudes were actually touching the bulls on their sides as they passed an act that some consider being good luck. I would have to disagree. Anyways, I promised Mel that I wouldn’t get myself into trouble so I declined the temptation to join in the extra insanity. I saw a few guys fall subject to the devastating hooves and one guy got horned pretty good but not exactly gored. As they passed, my running pace paused for a moment at a chaotic pile up of disoriented runners on the ground next to the fence that blocked my path to the arena. I think they were trying to get on the fence and ended up taking each other down with them. Not a good place to be in that situation. I quickly maneuvered around the mangled obstacle of entangled bodies and made my proud entrance into the arena. As I trotted in and it opened up, I felt a heightened sense of exhilaration and accomplishment. WOW... I actually did it! That was cut short by the quick reality check that I was now trapped in the arena with these fierce fighting bulls with no where to go. With no shame do I share the following with you. At my first close encounter of one of these immensely intimidating beast, without hast, I magically morphed into Spider Man and jumped onto the wall. I did jump down a few times to taunt a little but when I saw one participant get rammed against wall while he was running around and teasing the bull, I knew my place was right there on the wall acting like Spidey.
After the bull herders rounded them up and put them away in the holding pins, I began to celebrate with perfect strangers; high fives here and a proud hand shake there. But my absolute favorite part was next. They let about five iterations of other bulls out one at a time so that the really crazy guys could have some more fun attempting to touch them and then try to get away without being stomped or tossed up into the air. There horns were taped up, slightly dulling them, as if to give you the impression that they were without danger. But I had this strange feeling that if the horns were applied with the right pressure and smartly placed in the right area, it could possibly cost you a few dollars in medical bills. This is also when I had the opportunity to witness first hand that the bulls had a dangerously "Smart Car-like" turning radius. For instance, when I slapped the fourth bull on its buttocks, much to my surprise, he quickly turned and met me in mid-flight. This was the closest call that I had experienced the entire time. We had a minor scuffle but nothing serious enough to brag about. He left me with a small bruise on the left flank of my back to remember him by. In our quick brush, I had to grab one of his horns but in no means did I “take the bull by the horns” as the old Texas adage says. It was more like, “please let me guide this protrusive object away from my rib cage and vital organs, thank you”. Mel was able to enter the arena and she got to snap a few good shots of the chaos. Afterwards, one of my buddies pointed out that I actually got some blood smeared on the chest of my shirt... I was so proud... I shall never wash it.
All in all, it was a most memorable experience and a once in a life time one at that. I learned a few things from this little adventure. One, no one actually runs with the bulls; they really just run away from the bulls. Two, this scripture now has a new meaning to me. “…God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (II Tim 1:7).
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