1) It
was free.
2) I
figured that I’d feel less guilty about consuming an utterly ridiculous amount
of food later on if I ran enough to burn off a quarter of a piece of pumpkin
pie first.
3) It
was free.
4) I
kind of hoped there would be a classic U.P. blizzard, which would leave us all
running in two feet of snow with almost zero visibility, not sure if we were
passing snowmen or men covered in snow. (I’m not sure why I was hoping for
this, mind you. Perhaps because it would make a fun story to tell afterwards.)
5) It
was free.
6) This
was my first turkey trot, and I was harboring hope that there would actually be
turkeys trotting about with us. I mean, why else would it be named that? They
wouldn’t get ones hopes up with promises of turkeys just to crush them, would
they?
7) It
was free.
My training consisted entirely of trying to remember to
bring my running shoes with me from Minnesota
On the morning of Thanksgiving, I rolled out of bed, almost tasting the upcoming feast of turkey, stuffing, and pie. An almost overwhelming urge to not exercise any more than raising a fork up to my mouth almost derailed me, but I was able to fight it off, mainly by thinking of trotting around with turkeys.
When I arrived at the sight of the race, at around
Wives of husbands who were out hunting: 98%
Other: 2%
Now I’ll admit that this isn’t hard data, just my own primitive reckoning, but judging by the amount of complaining about toilet seats being left up, I think that it’s pretty darn accurate.
It was a perfect day for a run. The weather was very mild, with no hint of a blizzard in sight.
A little disappointed that I wasn’t seeing any turkeys, much less turkeys trotting about, the event kicked off, and I was on my way.
No times were being kept, as it was all for fun, so the “race” quickly turned into a social event more than anything else, with people catching up to each other, chatting, then going on their separate ways. I tried to fit in with the demographic by trying to swap recipes and discussing shoes, but it didn’t really work out to well, since everybody already knew how to make toast.
Somewhere during the last mile, I gave up on the hope of there being any turkeys present. Talk about false advertising! Already discouraged by this stunning turn of events, I then encountered a hill with a roughly forty-five percent incline that stretched on for about eighteen miles, which is a little weird considering the fact that the course was only 3.2 miles, but physics has never been my forte, so I just tried to power on through it.
On this hill, the friendly chatting pretty much stopped, and all of the runners who were expecting a fun, casual jog, including myself, were now sucking wind and giving thanks for escalators and elevators as means to conquer various ascents in other facets of their lives.
Eventually, I made it up the hill and finished the run, driven on mainly by the realization that if I collapsed, my mother probably wouldn’t be too excited to bring me a plate of turkey dinner to wherever I was still lying, gasping for breath.
After that, there's not much more to tell, and I was soon on my way back home, making a beeline towards more caloric intake than a dozen turkey trots could ever hope to overcome.
Overall, it was a worthwhile and fun experience, one that I’d consider doing again, especially since I’d know what to expect, which definitely wouldn't include real turkeys. But hey, as long as it’s still free, right? Plus, maybe next year it’ll be a good blizzard. Then I’d have a lot to write about.
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