Like the idea of taking part in the Spanish Running of the Bulls but not so keen on the idea of getting skewered by a horn or put off by animal cruelty? Me too. So when my friend James said he was organising a ‘running of the bulls’ where animal cruelty was replaced by beer and skewering was entirely optional, all I heard was the word ‘beer’ and signed up straight away.
I had in fact signed up to be a bull which meant a trip to the fancy dress shop and a day of trying to make my 5’4″ frame look bullish and intimidating to the runners. While I donned horns and an angry face, runners had been invited to wear white and given a red neckerchief.
The event, described as “the bastard child of a pub crawl and a run in the park” took place on Hampstead Heath in North London. Starting at The Bull pub pints were drunk as runners and bulls limbered up ready for the first dash.
Seeing as I’m in marathon training mode and that the total distance run during this event would be less than 4 miles, I’d run 7 miles to get to the start. Then I sat down in the sun for an hour, so when the horn sounded for the runners to dash across the heath to the next pitstop, I was not the quickest bull out of the gate.
It was just under a mile to The Spaniards inn where runners could seek safety and a cold pint. The pursuing bulls had to tag runners and claim their neckerchief in lieu of skewering them. But a couple of cunning runners I was following took a right where they should have gone left which meant more distance. But their legs weren’t as fast as their cunning and I managed to catch one before we reached the pub.
The afternoon followed this pattern with runners and bulls getting drunker and slower as the day went on. The guys (pictured) who were drinking chasers of (appropriately) Red Bull and vodka teamed with a few Bolt-esque press-ups, after most pints, somehow managed to win. I’ll get you next time guys!