A WEEK OR SO ago we promised you we were going to tell you what the heck was going on over here at MyBindi. It turns out that our designer and token white guy wasn't spending his allotted two weeks of vacation back home at the trailer park with his parents as he told us.

Old Chuck tells us that there are apparently five or six different versions of the story of 'what happened' floating around with varying degrees of bullshit if you'll pardon the pun. So if you really want to know the truth (and we do anyway) read on as we bring you the whole story straight from the man that was actually there: Charles.

Just as a little warning: we know you enjoy coming to myBindi for its relevant South Asian content. This little number here has little or no such content (After all, what does a small town white guy know about this stuff?).

Even so it's a decent read.
Enough from us.

Larry Singh: So after much grumbling you've actually decided to share your story.
Charles: Well I felt there were a number of options:
1. Bury the story (but thanks to Sandeep telling everyone on the message board, that one's out)
2. Deny it ever happened (must be some other guy...)
3. Change my name (how does Chazinder sound?) or
4. Milk it for all it worth. I figure, shit, if you all really wanna know...

Larry Singh: I guess my first question should be what is this whole Running with the Bulls thing?
Charles: It's a ten day festival in the town of Pamplona, Spain. Every morning these guys with long pointy sticks release these bloody huge bulls from their pens and chase them down this street toward a crowd of experienced Spanish bull runners and idiot tourists like me. The idea is to get these bulls into the bull ring about a kilometre away and make a bunch of people crap themselves along the way. Apart from that I don't know much more. I only know it hurts when I do this now...

Larry Singh: And this is worth flying all the way to Spain?
Charles: It's a rush like no other.

Larry Singh: That's why you did it.
Charles: Yeah.

Larry Singh: We're sitting here now because things didn't quite unfold as you expected them to...
Charles: Yeah. I got nailed.

Larry Singh: What the heck happened?
Charles: It's a long story, but I will gladly oversimplify it for you. I ran the entire distance without incident. My heart was pounding (it's seriously pounding again as a recount this). I made it up to the mouth of the Plaza de Toros (the bull ring) where the path narrows. It's the most dangerous part. I looked behind me and saw two stinking massive animals barreling towards me. They were huge. They really were. In front of me was a whole mess of people, a pile of people in fact, trying to claw their way over the fence. They were climbing on each other in absolute panic. I was faced with a choice: Step on these people, break their arms, faces etc. (remember I'm running about 30km/hr) or take a hit from one of those monsters behind me. What I didn't realize is that there REALLY is only one choice: Step on the people.

Larry Singh: So...
Charles: So I I feel this massive blow to my left thigh as this 500kg black beast cuts by me. And it's not no ordinary blow neither. I know punches. I remember these seniors in high school used to punch the crap out of me all the time and call me Spock Ears (That's your cue to saw "Awwwwwe", ladies). But I digress. This particular blow was like getting hit by a car I imagine... a car with big pointy horns. I don't remember this happening but television footage shows me getting thrown into the fence. I remember continuing to run though. I finished the run and made it into the Plaza but I noticed that my leg hurt like crazy. I looked down to see my pants absolutely drenched in blood. I rolled up my pant leg to find a gaping hole in my leg! Even more shocking to me at this moment was the total absence of beautiful South Asian skin beneath the white as I was beginning to suspect there might be.

Larry Singh: Some of the media seems to have reported that you were trampled.
Charles: The media has been a bigger pain than that bull to tell the truth. To set the record straight though, I was not trampled, I was injured by a bull's horn and to dispel another rumour the wound is a 7cm laceration, not a 7 inch gash as one of Toronto's more 'sensational' newspapers would have you believe. I mean I'm a little more agile than that, I didn't wait around for that beast to get a really good piece of me.

Larry Singh: What's the run itself like then?
Charles: It's truly terrifying. Watching the run does not compare to participating in it. You don't see the bulls right away, you only see a load of people running (there are thousands). You hear the patter of sneakers on the cobblestone street but then you notice something change. All of a sudden the expression on peoples' faces turns to terror. I mean terror too. A pack of three bulls with horns the size of Brampton raced by me and I could feel the clattering of hooves and the ground rumble beneath me. I wanted my mommy for the first time in twenty years. Even though I've purposely done a ton of scary things in my life I'd never felt true fear like this. EVER.

Larry Singh: Can you throw in a little South Asian relevance to justify this interview?
Charles: Interestingly enough, I didn't see a single brown person running. I took this as proof that South Asians are still smarter than the rest of the world. The runners were chiefly white guys with a few Asians thrown in the mix. The guys I was travelling with were Chinese. I only tell you that cause I get the feeling people think I only hang with brown people these days, ha! Oh, also the whole idea of running bovines down a street into a bull ring where they'll eventually be killed for sport might not sit well with the Hindus among us... hmmm.

Larry Singh: Would you run again?
Charles: Why do I still look stupid?