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PAMPLONA, Spain, July 12

I'm not one of those people that has a list of things to do before I die, but if I did I'm sure attending the Running of the Bulls would have been on it.

Well after this past weekend, I can cross that accomplishment off of my hypothetical list.

I'm here in Spain with the Penn-in-Alicante summer program, and this past weekend we had a three-day weekend after midterms. Eight of us from the program took the nine-hour bus ride to the northern Spanish province of Navarre.

As I figured, what were the odds that I would ever again find myself with a long weekend in Spain at the same time as the infamous Running of the Bulls?

Every July, from the sixth to the 14th, Pamplona celebrates the festival of San Fermin, the patron saint of Navarre. It's sort of like Spring Fling.

Well, if Fling lasted a week with non-stop partying, very relaxed alcohol laws, and tens of thousands of people descending upon the quad. Oh. and there are bulls.

There may be tamer events related to Sanfermines but the daily bull run, or encierro, is easily the most famous event associated with the festival.

For roughly half a mile, six bulls charge up the streets of the Casco Antiguo, or old section of the town, ready to gore any humans that get in their way. The bulls go fast; on Saturday - when I ran - the bulls finished the course in just over three minutes.

That's right, I decided to run. Not watch from the safety of the sidelines, but actually run in an event that has seen 15 deaths since 1924. So did six of the eight who accompanied me to Pamplona. Dressed in the traditional white shirt and pants with a red bandana, we readied ourselves for the 8 a.m. event.

The course is divided into seven sections, and we chose to run the Estafeta section, which is the longest - and probably safest - straightaway.

At precisely 8:02, two minutes into the run, the bulls came thundering by where I was running.

It happened very quickly. The Kentucky Derby might be the Fastest Two Minutes in Sports, but the encierro de Pamplona must be the fastest and most dangerous three minutes in sports. Basically, all I remember is seeing some bulls run through the middle of the street, as I was sprinting closer to the wall.

But not all of the bulls were in the middle of the street. Normally by Estafeta the bulls have become separated from the herd, which actually makes the situation more dangerous. And I learned that firsthand.

As I was running, a bull came charging practically out of nowhere towards me. However, there was a man a few feet behind me, and he took the full brunt of the bull. Fortunately, he wasn't gored. In fact, he was only shaken up; as I helped him up it didn't seem like he had any serious injuries.

But the danger wasn't over yet. After the bulls are released, some "peaceful" oxen are let out to help round up any stray bulls. And as I was helping up this man, one came cantering towards me. Again, it happened really fast, so I don't know exactly what happened. The next thing I know I'm falling towards the fence next to the wall. Fortunately, I got my hands out in time, but my forehead scraped against the wall, and I received an inch-long cut on my forehead.

I'd like to say somehow a 2000-pound oxen hit me and all I got was a small cut. But looking back on the incident, I'm pretty sure someone running directly in front of the oxen pushed me to the side, perhaps even saving my life. Though honestly I couldn't tell if my life was in any real danger. Fortunately a Penn nurse was with me in Pamplona, so she was able to tend to my "wound."

So while I didn't get gored by a bull, I still got a first-hand look at just how dangerous the encierro de Pamplona can be.

And thanks to the Penn-in-Alicante program, I was able to make the trip to Pamplona and experience something only a handful of Americans get to do in their entire life. And not only that, but thanks to a Penn nurse, I walked away from it mostly unscathed.

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