“I’m still throwing my dirty clothes on the floor,” I tell him, just to see what his reaction will be.
“You think so?” Three pairs of dirty sneakers are ejected out of the closet.
They land by my feet. Damn, they smell awful. Maybe that’s part of the reason this room always had a rancid scent. And here I thought it had been me and my stinky running clothes.
“Yep.” I kick the rank shoes out in the hallway one at a time. I suppose I should have cleaned out this closet months ago. If not for Ben, the room wouldn’t look as good as it does. He covered every inch of wall and ceiling with pictures of nature for my birthday a while back.
When I straighten up, Ben is standing in front of me. “I’m the only one who will be throwing your dirty clothes on the floor.”
I squawk when he scoops me up and kicks the door closed. He tosses me onto the bed and lowers himself on top of me. I melt into him as he kisses me. One hand slips under my shirt to grip my waist. I unfasten the top button of his fatigue shirt, ready to do my part in adding dirty clothes to the floor.
“Dude, I could have gone my whole life without seeing that,” says a voice.
Ben and I jump apart like two kids caught making out in the janitor’s closet.
“What the fuck?” Ben yanks at his fatigues, fingers automatically flying to the top button.
Caleb stands in the doorway, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his pants. He raises amused eyebrows at us. “You guys really have to get into the habit of shutting the door. No one wants to see old people going at it.”
“Who are you calling old?” I ask.
“The door was shut,” Ben growls.
“The door was definitely not shut,” Caleb replies. “It was mostly shut. I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to open it without knocking if it had been completely shut.”
“What do you want, Caleb?” My voice might be a tad squeaky.
He grins at me. “Gary sent me to get you guys. The welcome-home dinner is ready. For what it’s worth, I may have kept walking if Gary hadn’t spent the last six hours preparing the meal. It’s not legal to miss out on food someone worked so hard to prepare.” He saunters away, leaving me and Ben to collect ourselves.
“The door was shut,” Ben snarls. “That little fucker just wanted to fuck with us.”
I kiss his cheek before climbing off the bed. “Come on. There’s a feast waiting for us.” I pause, looking down at him. “I’m glad you moved in. I like having you here.”
His eyes soften. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. Hand in hand, we head into the main common room.
In the days we’ve been gone, a lot has changed. Carter got it into his head that we needed to “open up” the main dorm suite. He enlisted Margie, the kids, and Christian to help knock out the walls to the bedrooms. The result is jagged sheetrock and exposed beams, but the suite actually feels like an open common room now. Christian and Carter even brought in more tables and sofas from other rooms. For the first time, there’s a seat for everyone.
“About time, lovebirds,” Jenna says as we enter the room. “Gary, can we eat now?”
“Hold up.” Gary waves a spatula to ward off Kristy and Evan. The two kids dart back and forth, eyeing the four casserole dishes sitting on the counter.
“I just want to say a few words before we dig in.” Gary has graduated from his wheelchair to a walker. His leg will never completely heal from the shark attack, but it’s good to see him mobile. “First off, Kate, congratulations on a successful mission to Fort Ross. From everything I’ve heard, you guys did a hell of a job crashing Rosario’s party.” He salutes me with his spatula. “May we all have semi-trucks and zombie armies at our backs when things go south.”
Chuckles run around the room. I laugh and return Gary’s mock salute.
“Let’s take a moment and acknowledge those of us who didn’t make it back from the mission to Fort Ross,” Gary continues. “Eric and Leo, we salute you, brothers. You will be remembered.”
Gary picks up two rocks from the kitchen table. They’ve been brightly painted with flowers. The names Leo and Eric adorn each of the rocks. Without a doubt, they are Jenna’s handiwork.
“Will you do the honors?” Gary holds the rocks out in my direction.
I place them on the shrine erected by Jesus that still sits in the common room. It’s a plastic tub spray painted red. Inside is Jesus’s St. Roch medallion and a vase with plastic flowers. Though the shrine was built to honor St. Roch, it’s become a way for us to remember the family members we lost. Eric and Leo’s rocks now sit next to the ones made for Lila and Jesus.
I face my Creekside family, recalling Alvarez’s words at the burial. “We’ll honor their sacrifices and their memories by living our lives to the fullest. They died in the name of friends and family. We’ll never forget them.”
Murmurs of agreements run around the room.
I bow my head. Leo. And Eric. I’ll carry both of them with me. Always.
And Reed. I can only hope he’ll come back to Creekside someday.
“Okay.” Gary bangs his spatula on the countertop. “Let’s eat!”
I step aside as people bustle into line, eager to dig into Gary’s casseroles.
I take in our small community. Laughter and happy chatter washes over me. The kids zip around the room, playing tag while adults shout for them to slow down.
So many are missing from Creekside. Jesus. Lila. Eric. Reed. Of the original Creekside crew, it’s just me, Jenna, Carter, and Johnny.
But since those early days, we’ve added new family members. There’s Ash, Caleb, Ben, Susan, and Gary. There are those from Leo’s group, too: Todd, Christian, Margie, Stacy, and the kids, Kristy and Evan. And our newest addition, Bella from Fort Ross.
I don’t know what the future holds for us. Creekside might get new family members. We may lose others. All I know for sure is that I plan to enjoy this moment.
Right here, right now.
Acknowledgments
TO ALL THE ULTRA ROCK stars in my life who help me bring these books to life: THANK YOU!
Linda Bellmore
Lan Chan
Victoria deLuis
Joe Dulworth
Jayson Fowler
Chris Picott
Andy Salas
Jon Theisen
Ultra Couch Potato to Ultra Badass:
Your Ultimate Guide to Ultramarathon Training in the Zombie Apocalypse
By
Camille Picott
www.camillepicott.com
Copyright 2019
DISCLAIMER: This “training guide” is meant for entertainment purposes only. I have no medical or physical education background. I am not a certified trainer of any sort. (I write zombie books, for crying out loud.) My single qualification is that I am obsessed with running and the apocalypse (not necessarily in that order). Even though I have done many of the things in this guide, this is meant to be a humorous piece. Those who know me don’t consider the things I do to be completely normal. Undergo the training regime within these pages at your own risk.
What’s an Ultramarathon?
WHAT’S AN ULTRAMARATHON, and what does it have to do with surviving the zombie apocalypse?
Let’s tackle the first part of that question.
A marathon is a 26.2-mile footrace.
An ultramarathon is any footrace longer than 26.2 miles.
Footrace means a race conducted with...well, feet. Some people call this running. Some people call this torture. I call it therapy. (Occasionally, I call it cocktail hour. Did you know that a shot of bourbon in your hydration pack will keep the water from freezing? Food for thought if you plan to run in sub-freezing weather. Or on a treadmill. Whatever. I don’t judge.)
Generally speaking, the shortest ultramarathon is 50 kilometers. (That’s equivalent to 31-ish miles.) After the 50K race, popular distances are 50 miles, 100 kilometers (62-ish miles) and 100 miles. The 200-miler is quickly gaining popularity in the ultra co
mmunity. This last one is only for the truly insane and dedicated masochists.
Ultrarunners are big on “ish” distances. This is because it’s hard to read your $700 Garmin watch after being on your feet and moving for 20, 30, or 40+ hours. It’s enough to know you’ve run 50 “ish” miles and have another 50 “ish” to go.
The longest ultramarathon is called Self-Transcendence. It’s 3,100 miles. (No, that isn’t a typo. The race is three thousand one-hundred miles.) It’s an annual race in Queens, New York. It lasts for 52 days. Yep, people run for 52 days straight. On purpose. (Try finding a Garmin that will run for 52 days straight!)
3,100 miles is a little extreme, even in the ultrarunning world. Don’t plan to tackle Self-Transcendence after reading this book. You will suffer tremendously and possibly end up as road kill. This book will get you ready for the apocalypse, not insanity. I maintain there is a difference.
What you will be able to do after finishing this book is complete a 50-kilometer ultra, if you so desire. And outrun zombies. Which really is the point.
Now that you know what an ultramarathon is, let’s move onto the second question: what the hell does a stupid footrace have to do with surviving the zombie apocalypse?
How will ultramarathon training prepare me for the zombie apocalypse?
THAT’S EASY.
First and foremost, ultramarathons teach you how to suffer. Imagine running 100 miles in a snowstorm wearing nothing but a running shirt and getting frostbite. Or falling on your face, breaking your nose and part of your cheekbone, then hiking another ten miles to the finish line and driving yourself to the hospital for cosmetic surgery. (True stories. Really, I can’t make this stuff up.)
Learning how to suffer through mentally and physically tough situations is all part of ultrarunning.
But it doesn’t stop there.
Ultramarathons teach you how strong and capable you are. You’ll learn you can keep going when things get tough. In fact, your perception of what’s hard will shift.
Two days without food? Ha. Kitten play. You once vomited bile onto your shoes for six hours straight while running fifty miles in 100-degree weather. What are a few days without food?
In a nutshell, if you can weather an ultramarathon and get to the finish line, you can weather whatever shit the apocalypse throws at you.
Think of this book as a part of your prepper toolkit. If you have an underground bunker stocked with food, ammo, and video games, that’s great. But what does that really get you if you aren’t fit enough to run from your house to said bunker? You get my point.
Upon completing the three phases outlined in this book, you’ll be ready to sign up and run an ultramarathon! You won’t get first place, but you will be able finish. And in the apocalypse, that’s all that matter.
You just have to be faster than the slowest guy.
The Only Rule
THERE’S ONLY ONE RULE in this guide, but it’s important enough to warrant its own section.
NO EXCUSES
That’s it.
No excuses. That means show up and do the work.
I know you’re busy. I get it. It’s the end of the world. You’re scavenging for food. You’re siphoning gas. And maybe watching Netflix and posting selfies of yourself on Instagram.
Guess what? Ultrarunnning isn’t for retired executives looking for ways to kill time. (Although it can be!) It’s for people with full time jobs and families. So suck it up. No whining and absolutely no excuses.
Even if it means getting up early, or skipping an hour of Netflix, or getting your neighbor to steal gas for you. Figure out a way to make the time for training.
If you can find time to survive the apocalypse, you can find time to train.
No one said this would be easy.
Transforming from a Couch Potato to an Ultra Zompoc Badass with 3 runs a week
THAT’S RIGHT, only three runs per week.
Wait, you say. How can you train for an ultramarathon if you only run three days a week?
There’s a common misconception that a person must run seven days a week to be an ultrarunner. While it’s true many ultrarunners do run seven days a week, that’s because they’re running junkies. You’re not a junkie. You’re an apocalypse prepper. Running seven days a week will make you more prone to injury, especially when you’re first starting out.
Most ultramarathon training guides will have you running five days a week. I assure you this isn’t necessary for basic apocalypse endurance. It’s not even necessary for ultramarathon training. I routinely run three days a week and complete ultramarathons. Keeping your runs to three days a week will minimize risk of injury and make you an ultra zompoc badass and leave you with a social life.
That’s win-win-win in my book.
Let’s be honest: you all have lives. You have kids, significant others, and day jobs. More importantly, you have wine to taste, beer to drink, bunkers to prep, and The Walking Dead reruns to watch. I want you to still have time for all that fun stuff.
The goal of this book is to help you prepare for the apocalypse so your ass will be at the front of the mob running from the zombies. We’re not training to break the marathon world record. (Which, at the time of this writing, is 2:01:39.) If your car breaks down and zombies are on the loose, you won’t lose your shit if you have to hoof it twenty miles back to your house.
The workouts are separated into three distinct phases, each meant to build on the last. Within each phase are three runs to complete each week.
There are no mileage goals in this book, only TOF (time on feet) goals. Do your best to run for the full time period. (Unless you stop to take pictures. In that case, be sure to tag me on Instagram @camillepicott when you post them.)
Always, always be mindful of your body. This is an area that cannot be over-emphasized. If something hurts, don’t be afraid to take a few extra rest days. The last time I ignored my body, I ended up in a walking cast for six weeks. Don’t be like me.
All right, onto the good stuff: running and badassery!
Phase 1: Prepper
Being zombie bait is for losers
PHASE 1 IS ALL ABOUT building your base of basic fitness.
You should expect minor to severe discomfort during this time. Remember, you’re a couch potato. You spend all day on your ass commuting to and from work, sitting at your desk job, or crashed out in front of Amazon Prime. Don’t expect miracles here.
You’re going to feel like a nuclear explosion is taking place in your lungs. You might suspect your legs are going to fall off your body. You might even feel like you’d rather be bitten by a zombie than endure any more physical discomfort. Hang in there. Like anything, it will get better with practice.
Rule of thumb: it doesn’t matter which days of the week you run, or what time you run. Work it into your schedule as you can. It’s ideal if you can have a recovery day between workouts, but not necessary.
Survival Gear for Phase 1
YOU DON’T NEED MUCH to complete Phase 1. Basically, if you have clothing and footwear in your house, you can complete this phase. There is zero need to spend money on geeky running gear and fancy shoes. (This is really my sneaky way of taking away your excuses to start. Isn’t that nice of me?)
1: Shoes
ANYTHING WITH LACES and rubber soles will work. Don’t overthink this. My daughter, who permanently exists in Phase 1, exercises on our treadmill in her Crocs. (Yes, her chunky purple plastic Crocs. This is her footwear of choice for All Things.)
2: Water
YOU MAY OR MAY NOT need water during this phase. I almost never carry water unless I plan to run more than 1.5 hours. If you do decide to bring water, just grab a cheap bottle out of your pantry. If you don’t have one at home, buy one out of a vending machine. Something that easily fits in your hand. You don’t need a one-gallon jug. I promise.
3: Lightweight Clothing
ANY REGULAR LIGHTWEIGHT clothes will do the trick. You aren’t running long enough in Pha
se 1 to worry much about blisters and chafing. Just grab some lightweight workout clothes you have around the house and go for it. (My husband is fond of wearing his khaki pants and polo shirts on the treadmill. If he can do it, so can you.)
And that’s it! With these three simple tools, you’re on your way to becoming a certified zompoc prepper.
Now stop staring at the page and start running!
Phase 1 Training Plan
Week 1: 3 runs x 15 minutes each
Week 2: 3 runs x 20 minutes each
Week 3: 3 runs x 25 minutes each
Week 4: 3 runs x 30 minutes each
Week 5: 3 runs x 35 minutes each
Week 6: 3 runs x 40 minutes each
Week 7: 3 runs x 45 minutes each
Week 8: 3 runs x 50 minutes each
Week 9: 3 runs x 55 minutes each
Week 10: 3 runs x 60 minutes each
*Holy shit! You’re up to one-hour runs three times a week!*
*High-five*
*Hell Yeah*
*Those undead fuckers will never catch you!*
Phase 2: Survivor
Shit is getting real
YOU HAVE OFFICIALLY completed Phase 1. You have a strong base on which to build the rest of your ultra endurance. Phase 2 introduces you The Long Run, which is affectionately known as LSD (Long Slow Distance) in the ultra community. This is where you really start to challenge yourself and build up to 1 long run per week.
Survival Gear for Phase 2
YOU MAY NEED TO SPEND a little money in Phase 2. As your runs get longer, you’ll be more susceptible to blisters, chafing, and injury. You’ll want to minimize these things by being selective about the things you wear.
Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 118