We were willing to walk the extra blocks off the beaten path. Whole Foods, Target and LA Fitness became our sanctuaries of anonymity. What we lacked in physical stamina, we make up for in patience and calculation. The Journey was ours to conquer.

We nary saw a Chaser before checkpoint One and Two. Twas Checkpoint Three where the problems began.

Within our Safe Zone Shroud, we were surrounded by Pinks. We tried to wait them out, but they were keen to our map-studying facade. But our patience prevailed, as they went after another group of less savvy Blues. With the coast looking clear, we decided to make the necessary movings on.

It was around this moment that the videographer asked if she could film us. We should have taken it as a sign. She knew what, or who, lay beyond the hedge.

They executed their attack with precise timing. My group of brave women now screamed, panicked, ran into each other.

There were at least three on my tail, shouting "GET HER!!!" Deep down, I suspected it was over. But not without a fight.

As I rounded a corner into an alley, I looked for anything to help me outsmart my foes. And there they were. A row of trash cans.

The Chasers were within 5 feet of me when I rounded past the cans. With one reach of faith I grabbed the corner of the trash can, knocking it over in my wake. I heard crashing and screams of surprise. I darted around the next corner. Into a dead end alley.

The game was up.

Next year I'll be able to hop 15 ft fences. This year was just a practice run.


Dedicated to Abu, my greatest of foes, my fall.