So. Zombies. Something everyone should be prepared for. The way I see it, in traditional zombie disasters there are 3 types of people:
1. The first to go zombie.
2. The folks who get eaten by the zombies.
3. The people who run away/fight the zombies.
See, I've always fancied myself to be in one of the early stages. My zombie contingency plan, if you will, involves going first. Either turing zombie or just getting eaten early in the game.
Why, Sarah? Why would you not stay to fight and run from the zombies?
Couple of reasons:
1. It's too jumpy for my tastes. Always looking around the corner. Barracading the door. Scrounging for food. Having to dispatch of loved ones who get bitten. Frankly, it's a lot of work.
2. "Running" away wouldn't really last long enough to have to get to the above hardships. Ok, now this sort of depends on the type of zombie, but I'm not taking my chances. I'm sort of assuming they're the more aggressive, 28 days later types, not Shawn of the Dead moaners. I would be a goner anyways, and poor Ultra-Supportive Husband would have to spend waaaay too much time getting me out of that situation. Let's face it, I can't run fast, and until recently, not even run a mile. And as we all know, cardio is the first rule of Zombieland. (or is it the double-tap? Either way, words to live by.)
You see the predicament. Zombies come, I'm the wounded, baby gazelle. The low-hanging fruit. The easy target.
So, this whole running "thang" is to help to change my contingency plan. I'm not there yet, but I figure, if I can run a solid few miles at a nice clip, I might be able to stave off the zombies and make it through another day.
I'll see you folks on top of Crabtree Valley Mall - picking out the celebrity lookalikes or maybe the actual Bill Murray. Or maybe at the pub, fending them off. Maybe Will Smith and I can sleep in the bathtub together and sacrifice the dog.
Either way, the plan's gonna change. I'm gonna go down swinging.