Anddddd he’s dead. Doesn’t change the fact that running with the bulls is still high up on my bucket list. There’s something intoxicating about sprinting through a narrow street while a herd of 1,500-pound testosterone machines charges behind you, horns gleaming and hooves pounding like tiny war drums. Sure, watching viral videos of people getting launched across cobblestones or flattened like pancakes is a little…sobering, but that just adds spice to the dream. No risk, no reward.
And while I’m at it, swimming with great white sharks also has a permanent spot on the list. Nothing says adventure like staring into a mouthful of teeth that could comfortably carve you into a family dinner. Some people go skydiving, some people hike mountains, I apparently prefer situations where my survival instincts are working overtime and my life feels like a National Geographic documentary. Both experiences may require insurance that I don’t have, but nothing a stiff drink can’t fix.
