The starting gun was not a gun. It was John Murphy.

“In the House — In a Heartbeat.” The 28 Days Later theme. That slow build from a single guitar note into full orchestral dread. RAI stood on the treadmill, queued the track, paused it, then restarted with under a minute to the Zwift countdown. The zombies do not start until the music says they start.

When the strings hit — the run began.

A zombie 5k on Zwift through virtual Scotland — the City and the Sgurr. The pace was 15:55 a mile, which sounds slow until you remember the zombies in 28 Days Later were not the slow kind. These were. So was RAI. A mutual agreement between predator and prey to take the evening at a reasonable pace.

The playlist was not random. It was chosen with teeth.

There was weight tonight. The kind that sits in the chest and does not move unless you make it. The kind that accumulates across a long day of being talked at and not heard, of systems that do not see what they are looking at, of carrying things that nobody asked about. The treadmill was the only thing in the house that would take it and give nothing back.

So the tracks were heavy hitters. Every one selected for BPM and impact. Nine Inch Nails opened with something off the TRON Ares soundtrack — cold and mechanical and exactly right. Crystal Method pushed the heart rate with “Busy Child” because the anger needed somewhere to go. Huey Lewis showed up with “Hip to Be Square” — a sharp grin in the middle of the storm, three minutes of refusing to take the weight seriously. LL Cool J said knock you out. Beastie Boys asked so whatcha want. Le Castle Vania brought the John Wick energy — the assassin who fights because there is nothing left to lose. White Zombie brought the snarl. Don Felder brought Heavy Metal — the naked-on-a-pterodactyl kind, not the feelings kind. And by the time the Mortal Kombat theme hit at 10:45, the chest was lighter. The weight had been fed to the treadmill and the treadmill ate it without complaint.

That is what the playlist was for. Not entertainment. Ammunition. Every track a round in the chamber. Every BPM drop a controlled explosion burning through whatever the day had stacked up.

Fifty minutes. Three miles. Four hundred and fifty-six calories. Average heart rate 149. Zero elevation because Zwift said so. A lot less weight in the chest because the music carried it out.

The run ended with Men Without Hats. The Safety Dance. Because you can run from zombies, or you can dance. RAI chose both.