The Walking Dead Escape or “How I Saved Humanity”

Well, it’s Monday.  If you are reading this article, it means that you are still alive, and you should probably be thanking me.  With the close of San Diego International Comic-Con 2012 also comes the stopping of a serious viral zombie outbreak in the greater San Diego region.  Despite all the fan fare, comics, cosplay, and celebrities that abound every summer at the San Diego convention center, hands down the biggest and best attraction was AMC’s The Walking Dead Escape, conducted at PetCo Park.  It’s likely you’ve already heard all about it, but I’m here to give you my “survivor” experience… because I saved your life (true story).

I first mention The Walking Dead Escape weeks ago on the podcast, and immediately purchased my ticket to run the obstacle course as a “survivor,” and let me tell you, it was probably the best 80 bucks I’ve spent in a long time.  Unfortunately, due to poor planning (aka no money) I wasn’t able to secure the proper equipment to film my experience for everyone, but I like to think the oral history of my heroic run (as I call it) should suit just fine.  So now, I pass on to you, the reader, some hard learned lessons from my escape from PetCo Park.

Don’t panic, it’s just a zombie outbreak…

Safety in Numbers – Seeing as other members of the podcast chose to get in on the fun and buy tickets long AFTER I had, I ended up running the course solo.  While I thought that this might be of some benefit, I quickly realized that I needed some back-up.  At the start of the event, all the participants in each wave are herded into a confined and chaotic holding area, with FEMA and military personnel shouting at you, while walkers clamber behind a flimsy chain link fence looking at their next meal.  Meanwhile, an inept FEMA agent wanders through the survivor crowd, zombies in tow.  Once he was overcome by his inadequately restrained prisoners, all hell broke loose.  I turned around and soon found myself the first man on the course and through the first set of obstacles… not where I wanted to be.

While I managed a strong pace past the first few walkers and up and over the rope ladder climb, it quickly became obvious that being a one-man wolf pack was going to get real bad, real fast.  This was never more obvious when the one guy that was pacing me quickly passed by and left me face to face with four zombies down a narrow pathway, eight eyes fixated on me.  To the credit of those playing the role of walkers, they would take the bait if one person distracted to allow another runner to get by, but Mr. I’m-in-good-shape-and-have-good-cardio left me in his dust to “trudge my pudge” to the next staging area all by myself… and then it got worse…

SO. MUCH. BLOOD.

Not Your Granddaddy’s Obstacle Course – After dodging my way through the first danger zone, I soon realized that I needed to think about pacing myself and maybe hang back to get some fellow survivors behind (or rather in front of) me.  Unfortunately, I had no such luck.  Before I knew it, I was back with Mr. Speedypants and we were being sent forward by FEMA again.  Turns out we were so far ahead, there was no back-up coming, and I was doubly screwed.  The second portion of the course consisted of about 8-10 zombies dispersed amongst 4 or 5 cars in a zig-zagging sort of configuration.  Before I knew it, my one comrade-in-arms (aka Jerkface) was gone, zipping through the chaos unscathed, again leaving me to face the horde alone.  I bobbed and weaved and managed to make my way through the next couple sets of obstacles unscathed, including a pretty sweet combat-roll over a barricade and through a chain-link crawl space and even had a moment of glory as my wife and fellow Monkeys cheered me on from the spectating area… and then my lungs betrayed me…

One of my less flattering, yet more heroic moments.  I escaped this obstacle unscathed.

Feel the Burn – Just like any event that involves running, jumping, and particularly dodging flesh-eating zombies, cardio truly is king.  However, what’s a survivor to do when they have a nasty little run-in with exercise-induced asthma (it’s a thing, not just an excuse for my being a fat guy)!  It didn’t take long for my throat to begin protesting that whole taking-in-oxygen-to-breathe thing, but I did my best to keep my weakness hidden from walkers and spectators alike.  I conserved my energy and fought to regain my breath when all eyes were off me in order to make the best effort I could to survive.  The one benefit I of not being able to breathe was that it allowed me to surround myself with meat shields… er, I mean, other survivors… which came of great assistance in the later stages.  After a couple more close encounters, crawling through a tunnel of blood, and scrambling through a narrow cargo net with zombies clawing at me from what seemed like all angles, I finally made it to the CDC Decontamination Zone to find out my fate…

Zombie Dodging 101

My harrowing journey ended in a dark tunnel filled with CDC personnel in haz-mat suits inspecting all survivors for infection.  I raised my hands above my head as order and was scanned with a black-light to check if an where I got tagged.  It was loud and confusing, and as I was hustled along, I heard shouts of “CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE!” behind me.  Thinking I had made it, I was quickly disappointed when informed I was at a major risk of infection and sent to quarantine.  It was in the quarantine area where I was given my options… wait and suffer through the infection only to turn and then be killed or to man up and take one between the eyes there and then for the sake of humanity.  You’re welcome, everyone…

Seeing as I didn’t survive this year, it looks like I’m going all out and playing a walker next year, as long as The Walking Dead Escape makes another appearance.  Ramses, Jared the Intern, and our good friend Dennis Salvatier ran the course the next day, but you’ll have to listen in to tomorrow’s podcast to see how they fared.  Thanks to AMC, all the walkers and volunteers, and my wife for the great pics.  Oh, and to the guy that left me all alone with the horde… you’re zombie chow next year!

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