Turkey Trot

What better way to celebrate Thanksgiving than to run a 5k race in the morning to burn off those calories you’re going to eat later?  Added benefits if no one else in your family runs it!
“Oh I can’t wait to eat all this food!”
“You can’t eat as much as me, didn’t I mention that I ran a 5k this morning?  I need those calories more than you.”
“Yes I know, you’ve told me 12 times.  Jackass.”
Besides irritating your relatives, it does give you a great excuse to pig out.  And you won’t gain weight because you just burned all those calories just this morning!

You may remember my cousin, J, from my story about hitting the gym.  She and her younger sister wanted to run the Turkey Trot in Downers Grove, and she asked me to join.  Of course I did, great opportunity for checking guys out I think.  How wrong I was.  But we’ll get back to that later.  The race starts at 8:30am, which means that I have to wake at the ungodly hour of 6am to get there.  Well, I didn’t HAVE to.  I just have this thing about being prompt.    I was told to show up at J’s house at 7:30, and darn it i was there at 7:20.  My excuse is that I was expecting worse weather.

I park my car incorrectly apparently, as J is quick to remind me.  After she woke up that is.  Lazy!  Anyways, went back to my car and moved it and then sat down in the kitchen.  They can be so picky about where I park my car.  I feel that they should get a more normal driveway, instead of one that curves 90 degrees.  What is this madness? (Madness?  This is SUBURBIA!)

I go inside and I am easily the most awake person there.  Probably because I’ve been up for an hour and a half at this point, while everyone else JUST WOKE UP.  Fuckers.  One of my fellow runners isn’t even out of bed yet.  J goes to wake her up, and then tells me a fun story when she comes back down.

·        “So... uh... K is awake... I walked in on her wearing her tights... It was awkward...”

·        *myself and my aunt N laughing*

We all recover from our fit of giggles and start talking about stuff.  What stuff?  How the hell am I supposed to know?  How much conversation do YOU remember at 7:30 in the morning after waking up at 6?

After we all get ready, we leave just after the nick of time.  Literally, we left at the last possible minute.  None of us really thought about it, it just happened.  Walking to the car I think, “Hmm, it’s not so cold out after all.”  Of course, how cold can you get in 10 feet?  Driving to the race, we all debate whether or not to wear hats.  We even try to make a pro/con list.  At 8:15 in the fucking morning.  Really guys?  My brain isn’t capable of doing 3rd grade math at this point, and we’re trying to make a logical pro/con list?

My cousins all see a golden minivan driving ahead of us with “at least 10 people in there!”  Those “10 people” ended up being about 5.  5?  10?  Whatever, close enough.  They recognize the van as belonging to friends of theirs who are also running in the 5k.  I suggest ramming them to rid ourselves of some of the competition.  It was a pretty stupid suggestion, apparently the driver of the golden minivan is a maniac.  I do indeed end up fearing for my life for the 5 minutes we follow them.

Aunt N finally drops us off near the race, and we walk the rest of the way.  Little (and I do mean LITTLE) K leads us down a set of wooden steps and nearly kills herself after slipping.  My cat-like reflexes managed to save her life because I grabbed her hoodie and held her up.  As I walk down the steps myself I say:

·         Me “K these steps aren’t slippery at all!  What the hell!?”

·         J “Yeah she’s been doing that a lot lately.”

Apparently I have a clutzy cousin.  Doesn’t everyone?  We complete our trek to the Subway where we’re supposed to look for a friend of K’s.  We don’t find them.  They’ve been eaten by the Thanksgiving monster.  Poor souls, may they rest in peace.  As we wait to start running I realize something terrible.  I turn to J to share the news.

·         Me “I just realized, J, we can’t look at any of the guys here.  They’re all too young or too old!”

·         J “You came here to check the men out?”

·         Me “Yeah... didn’t you?”

·         J “No...”

The race starts and I immediately notice that the amount of traction my (very very old high school gym class) shoes have is less than ideal.  I suggest that if we want out of the race that I'll willingly slip and break a leg.  or something like that.  The idea is well received by all except my leg.

Let me just say, that this 5k race takes the 1st place medal for putting my life in the greatest danger it’s ever been in.  At every turn I was nearly plowed into the curb.  I had to jump onto it several times to avoid elbows intent upon damaging my kidneys.  We encountered rabid dogs with their dumbass owners letting them run right in between our tight knit group of three.  Small girls with untied shoelaces.  J was kind enough to warn us to watch out for them.  I even warned the poor girl and got a “Yeah, I know” in return.  Cheeky little bitch.  I like to think she was run over.  A runaway stroller nearly took all three of us out.  We decided to bring our own stroller next year decked out with spikes and blades to “cut” the competition.  Even the volunteers for the race seemed to be against us:

·         Me “There’s a water station!  Let’s stop and get some!”

·         J “No, we can’t.”

·         K “The water is poisoned.”

·         Me “You guys are fucking insane.”

So we soldiered on.  The mile markers seemed to be alive.  We finished our first mile in about 11 minutes (meh, we coulda done better) but the second mile seemed much too long.  Our third mile was longer than our first, but shorter than our second.  On our second and third miles we were obviously being closely chased by a gigantic wild boar.  It was so large that it labored to breath.  Its breath was so loud that we had to cover our ears!  We looked back in fear and saw nothing but another runner.  Maybe the animal was hiding behind him?

The end of the race is nigh.  I’m told we’re just over two blocks away from the finish line.  As far as my legs (and my lungs) are concerned it might as well be another mile.  We pass the first block and I notice that little K is pulling ahead.  As I’m the oldest and I have the longest legs I can’t let her win!  We oldies gotta keep the younguns down.  My legs feel suddenly rejuvenated and I start sprinting to the finish line.  Little K has no hope of keeping up and I quickly pass her.  The runners ahead of us are packing up and I have to squeeze through the gaps at a breakneck pace!  I may have elbowed a small child out of my way, I don’t remember.  The blood on my outerwear isn’t evidence of any wrongdoing!

Sure enough, I win.  I never doubted it.  K starts bitching that of course I won, I’m a foot taller than her.  I say “haters gonn’ hate” and the subject is closed.  I won fair and square bitches.