TEAM BONDING AND AMATEUR FILMMAKING

I WENT TO my first high-school cross-country practice freshman year in jean shorts, mostly walking as I heaved and huffed.

- Johnny Dombrowski

I wasn't good at running. During races, I fantasized about running into a tree, tumbling down a hill into a creek, getting attacked by a bear any misfortune that would stop me from racing. Every XC meet played out like a scary movie in my head.

Almost every year, our team trayeled from Long Island, New York, to Providence, Rhode Island, to participate in the Brown Invitational 5K. I carted a camcorder with me on the bus ride and ferry our first year with one intention: to film a horror movie.

The plot was simple: XC teammates fall prey to a mysterious killer at a hotel the night before their big race.

A spontaneous idea became a ritual that spawned a trilogy: Run to the Death, Run to the Death 2: Run for Your Lives, and Run to the Death 3: You Can Run But You Can't Hide. They were low-budget (really, no-budget) shorts with murders that required a suspension of reality: a slow fall down a carpeted stairwell; strangulation by French-braided pigtails; a rock not quite hitting the killer's head as our final girl, the last survivor, avenged her teammates. We spent babysitter money on fake blood, ugly masks, and a mullet wig.