I started doing Zombie’s, Run! again. Why? Because I’m shockingly out of shape.
I imagine myself running from a shambling heard across a vacant parking lot or field. The distance increases and I start to feel triumphant. Eventually, and by that I mean like 30 seconds, I start to tire and slow. They don’t.
I realized that even the Romero-esque slow-but-steady zombies would eventually over take me. If there’s nowhere to hide and it’s just a matter of endurance,
This isn’t about how I saw some obese person in the mall and thought to myself, “I’d never want a fat person in my apocalypse party because they’ll ruin everything.
No, this is about me being a chunk monster and realizing that I’m at a huge disadvantage and might want to either do something about it or look it in the eye and acknowledge it while planning my survival.
If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know by now I’m into apocalypse training. Most people would call it a fitness regime, but for me it is most definitely about not being too fat, too slow, too weak to survive.
To that end, I have made a decision. At least once a week, every week, I am going on an Apocalypse Walk to get myself ready- and I want YOU to join me.
Part game, part fitness training, Zombies, Run! is the absolute BEST way I’ve seen to get yourself zombie fit. And it also may be the thing that finally makes me buy an android or an iPhone (that I can’t afford), so I hope the maker is fucking happy.
Effectively, Zombies, Run! is an audio game for iPhone, iPod touch and Android. In it, you choose your own music list, choose a route,
Yesterday I went on a long walk with my husband, practicing for the apocalypse. We packed long-dated, easily eaten things and we hunted-gathered while we were there, picking up freshly fallen hazel nuts and eating them along the way.
The problem came on the way home. I was so exhausted my eyes were closing of their on accord. I could barely walk, although home was only 40 minutes away.
So we ruined the whole thing and stopped off for a pub lunch.
Recently I spent a good proportion of a day in a dark, smoky room, confused by loud noise while other people snuck around and tried to shoot me. What on earth was I doing? I was playing Quasar with some friends, and it struck me that this was remarkably good practice for the end times. Hear me out. It sounds weird, but in a country where guns and assault courses are only really available for the military or over-priced stag weekends,
I realised that I am too unfit to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. Surviving the apocalypse itself is down to luck, but surviving the world afterwards? I get out of breath walking up stairs. That’s not going to help me run from rabid, scientifically-enhanced badgers.