The Running of the Bulls, part of the San Fermin Festival in Pamplona in the North of Spain, made famous by Ernest Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises," is underway.  It is held annually from July 6th to the 12th when enormous bulls chase revelers wearing all white except for a red sash and beret, through the barricaded streets of the old city into the ancient bullring.  

About 14 people have been killed since the turn of the century and many more seriously hurt.  

This festival marks the one time that I was grateful for paternalism.  

I was 18 and visiting the festival with my brother and a group of friends.  We found out that women were not allowed to run.  (That rule has changed, but it is still mainly men who take the challenge.  Feminine wisdom and self-preservation winning out over machismo perhaps...?) 

I pretended that I was furious!  That I had thoroughly intended to run!  That I was deeply upset that I would not be able to hurtle myself through the streets hotly pursued by a herd of prime young, half-ton bulls, with the only way of escape being to make it to the bullring before they did, or attempt to leap over the barricades lining the route in a dizzying display of athleticism.... 

On the surface I was devastated by the "archaic rule", inside I was deeply relieved!  Gymnastics and track were never my strong suit.  I might have been pounded to a pulp in the streets of Pamplona.  Squashed by stampeding steers.  Bloodied by bucking bovines.  All these decades later I am so relieved that the venerable Pamplona City Fathers put their foot down!  

I am so grateful I lived to tell the tale!

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