The first rocket went off and people immediately started running. A lot of them. They were sprinting up Estafeta like the bulls were already right there. I was halfway up the street, where my brother Anthony had told me to stand, and I stayed put. I knew the bulls were still on Santo Domingo. They had not even reached Ayuntamiento yet. Anthony had walked me through all of that the night before, and it was exactly why I was able to stay calm while everyone around me took off.
What Anthony’s Six Years in Pamplona Actually Gave Me
I came to Pamplona in 2022 because of my older brother Anthony. He had been running the encierro for six years at that point and talked about it constantly. I wanted to understand what the experience actually was. Not just the thrill of it, but what had kept him coming back year after year.
What I did not know before I arrived was that coming with him meant I was going to have access to six years of knowledge before I ever stepped onto the route.
The night before my first run, he walked me through the entire course from start to finish. That walk took about an hour. He covered the names of each section, the tendencies of the bulls in each one, what to look for, where the barriers are, what happens when a bull separates from the herd, where to stand, and when to move. He gave me all of it. He did not just describe what usually happens. He told me what can go wrong and what you do when it does.
When we got to Estafeta, he told me this was a street where the bulls build real momentum. Long, narrow, fast. He said it was an exciting place to be because you could actually run with the animals rather than just survive them. Something about the way he described it made it feel immediately like where I needed to be. I have run every section of the route in the years since, and I keep coming back to Estafeta because that first impression was right.
What the Walk Actually Prepared Me For
The prep walk mattered for reasons I could not have fully anticipated ahead of time. A lot of what my brother told me, I did not completely understand until I was standing in the street on the actual morning. But when I saw those things happen in real life, I recognized them. I had context for what I was seeing. That recognition kept me from doing what most first-timers do, which is react to whatever is happening in front of them without understanding what it means.
There is a lot happening on the route before the bulls arrive. People are shifting. People are nervous. The sound level builds. And right when the first rocket goes off, a significant number of people start sprinting immediately. If you do not know that this wave of panic is not a meaningful signal, it will pull you with it. You spend the next thirty or forty-five seconds running hard, burning energy, putting distance between yourself and the section you chose. By the time the bulls actually reach you, you are gassed and out of position.
My brother told me that experienced runners on Estafeta do not move at the first rocket. The bulls are still on Santo Domingo. They have to clear Ayuntamiento and Mercaderes before they even turn onto the street. The first rocket is the gate opening, not the herd arriving. Knowing that was the difference between me staying where I was and running with everyone else.
7:05 on the Route
We arrived at 7:05 in the morning. The run starts at 8:00. That gave me fifty-five minutes on the route before the rockets went off, and I think about those fifty-five minutes a lot when I am guiding runners now.
There is a version of those fifty-five minutes that is just waiting, watching the clock, letting anxiety build. There is also a version of it where you are settling into the space you chose, observing the people around you, understanding the weight of what you are about to do. Because I had enough information from the night before, it was closer to the second thing than the first.
What I noticed in those minutes was the range of people on the street. Some runners were very serious, very still. Some were praying. Some were stretching. Some were clearly there for the first time and uncertain about what to do with themselves. The energy builds in a specific way as you approach 8:00, and if you understand what you are feeling, you can lean into it rather than fight it.
I stood halfway up Estafeta, past La Curva. My brother had placed me there deliberately. Past the curve, the bulls have already had the chance to regroup after the chaos of the corner. They are moving together and moving fast. A suelto, a bull separated from the herd, is less likely that far up the street, though never impossible. He put me there so that when the bulls arrived, they would be doing what I expected them to do rather than something chaotic and unpredictable. That placement was not random. It was built from six years of experience running the same street.
Reading the Camera, Not the Crowd
When the first rocket went off and people started sprinting, I watched them go. Then I watched the crowd around me settle back into a tense stillness as the less-experienced runners thinned out and only the people who knew what they were doing remained close by.
What I was actually watching for, what my brother had taught me to watch for, was the television camera positioned above the street. The broadcast cameras follow the herd. They sit up high, ahead of the bulls, tracking them up the route. When you see that camera position start moving toward you, the herd is coming. It is one of the most reliable real-time indicators available to a runner on Estafeta.
Sound does not work the same way. The bells on the cabestros, the herding steers, are loud, but there is so much noise on the route that you cannot use it alone to judge proximity. People are yelling from balconies throughout the run, before the bulls are near, while they are passing, and after they have already gone through. The yelling continues even when a bull has been separated and is somewhere behind you on the street. Sound tells you that something is happening. It cannot tell you precisely what.
The camera position is cleaner. When it moved, I started moving with it. A shuffle at first, building speed gradually the way my brother described, so that I was at full pace when the bulls were actually near me rather than already spent from sprinting too soon.
Three Seconds
The bulls appear quickly on Estafeta because they are moving hard and because they sit just below head height in the crowd until the people directly in front of them peel away to the sides. The crowd parted in a wave, and then I saw them. Bigger than I expected. Faster than I expected. They were muscular in a way that did not read as large at a distance, but the speed with which they covered ground made the scale of them clear very quickly.
I ran next to one of the black bulls from that morning for about three seconds. Right next to it. That close, you feel the energy of the animal in a way that is very difficult to describe accurately. The size, the speed, the fact that it is entirely indifferent to whether you are there. You are a detail in its path, not an obstacle, not a target. That indifference is clarifying in a way that nothing else on the route is. You understand, in those three seconds, exactly what you are dealing with.
Then there were people in front of me and I peeled off to the right and let the rest of the herd come through.
I was instantly hooked. I have been coming back every year since.
What That First Run Actually Taught Me
My first run went the way it did because of the hour my brother spent walking me through the route the night before. That is not a complicated conclusion, but it is a direct one. The difference between a successful first run and a frightening one is almost always information. Knowing what the first rocket means. Knowing how to read the camera position instead of the crowd. Knowing where to stand, when to start moving, and what a suelto is and why it changes everything about your behavior in that moment.
That knowledge does not come from reading a summary of the route or watching a video about Pamplona. It comes from someone who has been in those streets enough times to understand not just what usually happens but what can go wrong and why it matters. The hour my brother spent with me the night before is what Encierro gives every client before their run. That is the reason I am part of this team. That prep is the thing that makes the run what it should be.
Frequently Asked Questions
What does the first rocket at the Running of the Bulls actually mean?
The first rocket signals that the corral gates have opened and the bulls are entering the route on Santo Domingo. It does not mean the bulls are near your position anywhere else on the course. If you are standing on Estafeta, the bulls still have several full sections of the route to clear before reaching you.
Where should a first-time runner stand on the encierro route?
Most experienced runners advise first-timers against the walls and away from doorways. On Estafeta specifically, positioning yourself past La Curva gives you a longer, more predictable stretch where the herd has had a chance to regroup. That said, no section of the route is without risk, and where you stand should be based on preparation and guidance from someone who has run there, not assumptions.
How do you know when the bulls are actually approaching if you cannot see them?
The overhead television cameras track the herd from above and follow the bulls up the route. Watching that camera position move toward you is one of the more reliable real-time indicators of the bulls’ proximity. Sound, including the bells on the cabestros and crowd yelling, is much harder to read because the noise on the route is continuous and does not clearly tell you what is actually happening.
What is a suelto and why does it matter?
A suelto is a bull that has separated from the herd. Separated bulls are considered particularly dangerous because they no longer have the herd instinct guiding them in a consistent direction. They can stop, turn, and move in ways the main pack almost never does. Knowing how to recognize and respond to a suelto is one of the most important things a first-timer can understand before stepping onto the route.
Does walking the route with a guide before the run actually help?
Yes. The single most important factor in my first run going the way it did was the hour I spent walking the route with my brother the night before. Having that information in advance meant I could stay calm, read the signals correctly, and position myself to run with the bulls rather than just react to chaos around me.