Lately I can’t get enough of post-apocalyptic zombie books. It probably started by watching The Walking Dead on TV, but the books in the genre are way better. These books fascinate me because they always bring up the same question. How would I fare in such a situation?

I think I’d kick ass.

Now, I don’t see myself as some Delta-Force bad-ass in waiting. I wasn’t in the Army, or the Navy, or the Marines, or the Coast Guard. Shit, I wasn’t even a Boy Scout. But I have the same haircut as those folks so I’m pretty sure I’m just like them in terms of survivability. Oh, and I run ultramarathons.

What on earth does ultra running have to do with surviving the Zombie apocalypse, you ask? More than you think!

Indulge me here for a bit.

After reading these books it seems pretty clear surviving the first few days of the apocalypse is all about avoiding everyone and everything. That’s exactly why I run so much! People sort of drive me crazy, and running alone is how I deal with that personality quirk. I’m quite skilled at avoiding people and spend most every day doing just that. Chances are I’ll be all alone when the shit hits the fan, and that’s a good thing during the initial outbreak.

On the first day of the world ending you should stay where you are and board up the fucking windows. I won’t get tired nailing a few 2x4s into the wall. Shoot, I won’t even break a sweat doing that. I’ll probably turn it into a competition to see how much faster I’ll be than my 90-year-old neighbors. And no, I won’t help them, because let’s face it, they are 90 and could drop dead at any moment and reanimate as a blood-thirsty zombie.

But the simple fact is most of us may not be in a good place to hole up when the shit hits the fan. In that case most of us are left with one option. Run.

And, shit, can I run! I routinely run 80-100+ miles a week, baby, and those damn zombies are slow. Like, real slow. So I figure as long as I have on a decent pair of shoes I’ll be able to outrun those blood-thirsty bastards. Even if I need to stop for a short rest, well, I’m used to doing that. During a 50 or 100 mile race we ultra runners all stop, fix what needs fixing, and then start running again. We are good at recharging after a brief rest. Hell, I may even let them catch up a bit just to see if I can PR the next 6-mile segment of my getaway.

Ultra runners are also pretty comfortable with pain. Twist your ankle a bit avoiding the teeth of a nasty zombie? No worries, I’ve run many times on swollen feet. Shoot, I ran the Seattle Marathon less than a week after severely spraining my ankle.

Got some blood soaking through your shirt after you had to behead the weirdo you encountered? No biggie, a lot of my long trail runs involve blood. For ultra runners, that’s just a badge of honor, yo.

We ultra runners are also really good at eating the same food over and over and over. Have you ever eaten gels for 12+ hours in a row? I promise you it is worse than eating canned peaches every day. I can eat when I’m nauseous, dizzy, dirty, lost, and half crazy. Shit, that’s just another long run in the Columbia River Gorge.

I also know nearly all the local trails. These trails would be perfect places to avoid flesh-hungry zombies and freaked-out fattys. Pretty sure the obese family looking for a place to hide isn’t gonna hit the trail that goes straight up for three miles. But I sure as hell will! Good cover and low population.

Since I’ve been reading all these freaky books I’ve also started taking inventory of the best places to hole up within a 10-mile radius of my house. There are some great places. You know, strong doors, zero or well-protected windows on the ground floor, multiple escape routes, good views, and all the other things that make a safe house good during the zombie apocalypse. And no, I won’t tell you where they are. Sorry, it’ll be the end of the world and I'm not sharing my peaches with you.

So my Zombie apocalypse plan is simple:

  • Buy everything on the end-day list
  • Always keep my running backpack stocked for an epic long run
  • Never wear high heels
  • Always wear shoes I could run in
  • Buy lots of shitty canned food
  • Buy lots of guns and ammo
  • Buy a sword and long-ass Rambo-style knife
  • Keep all this stuff hidden in a less than obvious location in my house

Boom! I’ll be a hairy, canned peach-eating ultra runner living in some boarded up safe house when most of the world has perished. Now, exactly what I’ll do after that I’m not quite sure. But it seems fairly obvious that this ultra running fool will be one of the last people living when the world gets eaten by zombies.

Lastly, if you show up at my safe house wearing one of your finisher shirts from an ultra I’ll probably let you crash a couple days. Just make sure to bring some gels or beer or whiskey. Or food. Or guns.

Happy running!