AdventuringWithDan

The day finally arrived. The travel crew, consisting of my two brothers, my cousin, and myself, woke up at 5:45 A.M, silent, mentally preparing for what we were about to endure. We had to arrive at the city center of Pamplona by 7:00 in the morning to scout the area before the bull run started at 8:00. We rushed out of the small neighboring town of Olite with our caffeine in hand. After finding parking in Pamplona, we searched for clues about where the runners were expected to meet. Along our walk, a stark contrast of individuals walked by us. Half of them were wearing running shoes, indicating they were walking towards where we had to go; the other half were stumbling in the other direction, returning home from a long night of partying. We continued towards Plaza Ayuntamiento, the location of their city hall. Barriers were set in place to guide the path the bulls would be running from the start to the end at the Plaza de toros. Once at Plaza Ayuntamiento, we jumped over the barrier to join our fellow crazy individuals getting ready to run.

Yet again, we were standing shoulder to shoulder with individuals dressed in all white, along with red handkerchiefs and scarves. Some locals who were standing right next to us clearly had been up all night partying, screaming out to the people around them, “Why so serious, bro?” Still standing stiff, waiting for the police to allow more space for the crowd to spread out, the town started playing an instructional video with childlike music playing in the background. It felt dystopian, childlike music playing while we mentally prepared ourselves to survive a stampede of bulls running full speed towards us. To calm our nerves, they then played video highlights of previous bull runs showcasing bulls ramming into runners and flipping them over, helping ease all of our worries. Once the police finally opened up more space, we moved to find our starting position. You could start anywhere along the run, so we decided to start after the infamous “dead man’s corner.” The street after is called Calle de la Estafeta, where it is almost a 300-meter straight shot toward the Plaza de toros, allowing the bulls to generate increased speed. Mentally, you feel so present in the moment that it takes a second to step back and realize that there are balconies filled with individuals cheering on the runners, providing them the motivation to complete the run. After settling in our starting position, I began to stretch, jump up and down, jog in place, anything to distract from the fact that I was about to… then the firework sounded, signifying 6 bulls were on their way and officially starting the bull run. In my mind, we had about 2 minutes until the bulls catch up to where we were standing. But then why was everyone already starting to run? I didn’t want to fall behind, so I tagged along. Two steps forward, one look over the shoulder, two steps forward, one look over the shoulder. People were on the floor, locals were pushing us towards the center of the street, trying to help the people already falling. People began to freeze, people began to sprint. Two steps forward, one look over the shoulder, two steps forward, one look over the shoulder. I think I have about one minute left before they catch up to… why is the ground starting to shake? Looking over my shoulder, why are people starting to pick up their pace? Run! But I couldn’t, the street was too crowded, too narrow, people were falling, people were freezing in place. It was a chaotic, adrenaline-filled frenzy! Two steps forward, one look over the shoulder, two steps forward, and the bulls were right behind me! I shifted towards the side, trying to avoid the stampede. It happened so quickly that the bulls already passed me up. It was over. All I have to do now is get inside the plaza behind them and… wait, why did a second firework just go off? The second stampede was on its way. Run! I wanted to make it inside the plaza de toros before the second wave, but as I continued straight, breathing heavily, I came face to face with one of the bulls from the first wave. He had gone rogue, away from the herd, targeting anything in his vicinity. As I locked eyes with him for 2 seconds, I froze and wondered if I was going to be the next victim. Luckily for me, the shepherds came in to help guide the bull back on the path. I continued forward with caution. I had a rogue bull still in front of me while the second wave of bulls was still on their way. As I made it to the final stretch, I could see the entrance of the Plaza de toros. However, this is one of the most dangerous areas as the path narrows towards the entrance. I rushed to make it inside, but right as I was about to get in, the ground began to shake and the second wave came running in. Everyone began to panic, everyone’s pupils were larger than ever before, some people froze, others fought and maneuvered away. I dashed to the side barrier while the last wave of bulls came rushing into the entrance. I finally saw the last bull trotting in and we all followed behind, ready to finally be done and accomplish entering the Plaza de… why did they just close the gates on us? Did I just finish fighting for my life to not even be let into the final destination? Then they opened the gate once again, letting in the final runners.

As I entered the arena, all of the emotions came to realization. I survived running with the bulls! I roared a chant of excitement and relief as I walked into an arena full of spectators cheering on all of the runners. I stopped to take it all in, a surreal feeling of pride, excitement, and relief rushed through before my stomach suddenly dropped. I knew I made it in alive, but where are my brothers and my cousin? Did they survive too? I looked around, but everywhere I looked in the arena, everyone was wearing the same outfit. My travel crew and I each had at least 10 doppelgangers in the arena with us, making it nearly impossible to see if I could identify any of them. Walking around the perimeter of the arena, I noticed all of the other groups cheering together, screaming out gladiator roars. I felt shell-shocked and dazed. I was breathing heavily from the run and the adrenaline spike was clogging up my throat. Where are my brothers, where’s my cousin? I kept walking, thinking of the worst-case scenario, hoping it wasn’t true. Every time I thought I saw one of them, it turned out to just be another doppelganger. I did a whole lap around the perimeter and still no signs. What was supposed to be one of the best feelings of accomplishment turned into a state of terror and disbelief. Then, finally, I hear, “Daniel! Daniel!” I turned around and there they were. The initial mutual reaction of where the “f” were you instantly turned into excitement, and cheering. We actually did it, I could now feel at peace, take in the moment with my… and then they released the bull. After the run, they release bulls into the arena to rush around with all of the runners that made it inside. Almost everyone flocked from the center of the arena towards the sides. Some runners tried to hop over the fence to join the crowd, but they were met with denial from security. If you were inside the arena at that time, you now had to be prepared to fend off the bull. Once I heard that they released the bull, I felt a third spike of adrenaline course through my veins. I started to jump straight up and down in the air, mentally and physically preparing myself to see how close I could get to the bull. After a few jumps, I rushed to the part of the arena where the bull was. Runners would form circles around the bull, with the occasional few individuals going face-to-face with it. The bull would get angry and charge groups of people, flipping over individuals in its path. The crowd is roaring, expecting us runners to provide a show. Music is playing in the background, and they even gave a shout-out to the home state where my Mom’s side of the family is from. “¡Viva Jalisco!” After about 20 minutes, they were ready to bring in the second bull to the arena. At this point, the travel crew was ready to head out, so they let people climb over the fences of the arena floor, and we made our way out of the arena.

As we drove back to the small town of Olite, it felt like we were knights returning home from battle. We walked down the narrow street entrance, still dressed in our traditional outfits. Slowly walking back to our bed and breakfast, a woman notices us from her balcony and shouts, “Viva San Fermín” while waving a red handkerchief in the sky. We looked at her and shouted “¡Viva!” Then we looked at one another with smiles on our faces, signifying to each other without words that we all just survived the craziest experience of our lives.