Apptitude: ‘Zombies, Run!’ might scare you into healthy habits

If the zombie apocalypse descended tomorrow and your life suddenly depended on fleeing, would you be able to outrun the undead?

The app “Zombies, Run!” promises to motivate your jogging and make you a fit, zombie-dodging hero through a range of high-adrenaline downloadable missions.

No one wants to be easy pickings, and as someone who has never been able to stick to a jogging routine in her life, I figured if zombies couldn’t make me run, nothing could.

After downloading the app, there were no finicky instructions. I selected season one and launched right into a mission: The supply helicopter I had been riding in crashed in the middle of the “zombie wilderness,” and I had to escape a group of about 40 “hostiles,” a chorus of ghastly moans following me.

“If there’s anyone alive out there just run … RUN!” crackled a radio transmission from Abel Township, the compound that was my base.

(Jon Larson)

Everyone at the township has to pull his or her weight. As Runner 5, I did that by distracting the “zoms” and collecting random supplies, based on how far I’d run. The supplies included items such as a bottle of water, a tin of food, bandages and a sports bra, each announced by an automated male voice.

Within five minutes, I collected not one, but two sports bras. Because you can’t flee the undead with unsupported bosoms.

The missions usually last about 25 to 30 minutes, and your run will be monitored until you choose to finish, return to base, and move on to the next part of the story.

Total speed and distance — along with the accumulated supplies — are saved at the end of each mission.

The app costs $3.99; it’s extra to download each of the three seasons. For added variety there are airdrop supply missions, where you can choose a real location to run.

A few weeks after my first mission, I was still motivated to get out and jog, eager to take on the next zombie threat.

The streets of Washington were deserted, apart from some fellow joggers, township runners out to scavenge for tins of foods and a pack of underwear. I dashed past the White House, and, just as I neared the dark expanses around the Washington monument, the radio transmitter advised people to stay away from open fields. I picked up the pace.

The suspense of the next supply I would collect kept me going. Would it be a new pair of shorts? Some 9mm bullets? My body whimpered to stop, but I thought, what if this were a real emergency? I pressed on and was promptly rewarded with another sports bra.

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