Red bandanna: 4 euros

Red belt: 5 euros
White pants: 72 euros
Running with the bulls: Priceless.

6:40 a.m. I get dropped off as close as the taxi can take me al principio del encierro (the beginning of the bull run).

7:00 a.m. I find my bull. I decide that "Barney" is a good name. At first, I was going to go hard-core with my naming: "Lucifer" or "Axe" or "Killer". Then I thought that might work against me later. I opted for a goofy name. Think Barney Rubble. Even Barney Miller.

7:30 a.m. I meet up with Michael (my uncle's friend, and now I guess I can just call him MY friend) and the young kid, Al, that he had met earlier that morning.

7:45 a.m. We are stopped at a point on the route, before it's "inspected" by the chief of police. No one can enter the second half of the course until this happens. I yell out for Barney "BARNEY!?!? YOU HEAR ME? I WANT YOU!!". He is too chicken to respond.

7:50 a.m. Everyone is able to walk/run up to the 80% point (give or take) of the course. People are stretching, silently looking around, and/or jumping up and down. This early-morning ritual is similar to the start of a 5K, except with a little more tension.....some of these people around me may die or get seriously injured (hardly a concern in a 5K).

8:00 a.m. exactly - An odd calmness takes the crowd over. A beautiful northern breeze sweeps past us, and the first rocket goes off. This rocket signified that the gate for the bulls has been opened. My heart rate elevates. I look around, and realize that everyone here is bonded together. Some confident, some scared, but all are on the same team. The we're-brave-but-don't-want-to-die team. Shortly after my friends Michael, Al and I exchange white-faced glances, the second rocket goes off. This one means that all of the bulls have left the corral. And they are coming to us. Barney and his friends are coming.

8:04 a.m. The immediately recognizable, and oddly scary sound of the cowbells around the necks of the guide bulls arrive. This is real. This is happening. I can't even calculate my heart rate.

8:05 a.m. Barney, et al are immediately upon us. The sheer force of 15,000 pounds coming up on you cannot be adequately described in words. In the 60 seconds before the bulls came by, the crazy runners were there. I had to constantly shove runners by me, else I would have been thrown to the ground. As much as I want to touch Barney, I cannot get close enough. However, I am running with the bulls. I AM RUNNING WITH THE BULLS. In the 300 yards between my starting place and the entrance to the plaza, 3 people (or groups of people) fell in front of me. The first one I was able to run around, but the second and third required me to jump over them.

8:07 a.m. I entered the plaza del toros behind the bulls. Every seat was filled. Literally, every seat. This is Monday morning, but it feels like the Super Bowl. After I got into the plaza, I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't touch my Barney, but then the second batch of bulls were coming. (Everyone started screaming exponentially, and people started running like crazy). This was my chance to fix things. The bulls came into the arena, and as the other 2,000 people ran away from the bulls, I ran toward them. I AM TOUCHING MY BULL, DAMN IT!! I ran right across the stream of runners, ran right towards the bulls, and slapped Barney on the left ass cheek!!!! It was awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

IN CONCLUSION
Sex. Drugs. Rock and roll. Jumping out of a plane. All of these things can make your heart race. But nothing like running with the bulls. Nothing.

Ole.