And When The Sun Rises...

As summer in Spain approaches, here's a treasure I always go back to... Pamplona's "Running of the Bulls".

I was a small town thirteen year old kid in the early 60's when I first read Ernest

Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises"... where the annual feast of San Fermin "running of the bulls" mention of... led to the event's celebrated noteriety. The apt "coming-of-age" read... I thought. I became an instant fan of "Papa". Indeed,  fantasy books no more. My reads since became more about life experiences, biographies, about books that played on the senses and were mind provoking. 

What I'm driving at actually is about believing in dreams, to not easily lighten up on one till 

The "Run"... ran and done!

eventually reached... so a new one may start. My participation in the "Running of the Bulls" would become thus a measure on how bigger did I want this life I owe to be... and to farther go. As a teen... there was no talk about this, even much later until the "bucket list" became a "thing" in many a lighthearted discussion. I simply believed that I was going to end up doing it however which way. But first, there was high school, college, career, family... then my three "rings"...engagement, wedding and suffer-"ring" (har..har...har), and two children. In the summer of 2012, at 62... Pamplona, San Fermin, the Bull Run... were marked off my "list"

Ah, the "Run"...  Actually, by the time I decided to participate in the event, I had to wiggle

Two who who I wanted to not be in 
front of me on the run..

myself out of, by then... a personal dilemma, crossed between the "tradition of bravado" and "cruelty" to animals. I simply then reasoned out to myself that this was a motion set since roughly fifty years back... I could no longer stop it. And that, whether I ran or not, it no longer was going to change the fate of the bulls. So, I ran.

The second cannon boom meant the bulls have been set loose. My heart went booming too. Most runners usually have been party to an all night revelry so I was more concerned with who were running in front of me lest they fell or tumbled over. The path was getting narrower, the runners slower, the bulls faster... yet, surprisingly, collected I stayed.  The bulls were all by... by the time I reached the entry into arena. I headed to a secluded corner... sweat and tears, with my bandana I wiped. Ole!

Pamplona during the Feast of San Fermin