Trotting For Turkey

Every Thanksgiving, Dan and I run in a 5K called the Turkey Trot. It used to be a sort of family affair until the time we had to run in twelve-degree weather. Now my father, Dan, and I are the only relations crazy enough to brave the cold. Personally, I like running or - in my case - light jogging. Dan, on the other hand, will run, but he doesn't really enjoy it.

"Don't you feel good?" I always ask Dan after a brisk morning jog.

"I feel tired. And cold. And sweaty."

I wonder - has he just returned from an invigorating run, or is he coming down with the flu?

As fate would have it, Dan is the better runner. He beats me every time. 

For this particular Turkey Trot, the participant guesses his/her race time, and the runner who comes closest to his/her predicted time wins a turkey. Dan, possessing a slightly competitive nature, tried to win the turkey the first year and was frustrated when he came within seconds of his guessed time.

We're not even sure if there is a turkey awarded or if it is just some weird dangling carrot. Most people leave before the last person crosses the finish line, so no one really knows who wins the turkey anyway.

All of the runners and walkers also get free swag. One year, it was a sweatshirt, and another year, it was a choice between a beanie or a headband. But some years, the race is so well attended that they run out of swag. They promise to mail it to you, but we are still waiting on our sweatshirts from four years ago. This year, they are mailing us headbands. We are not holding our breath.

Of course, Dan and I don't run in this event for the free stuff or for the promise of a turkey. I do it because it is a fun, new family tradition that has developed since my marriage to Dan. It takes place in the town where my family lives, so it gives me a chance to spend some extra time with them. It is also nice to preemptively burn off those calories that I will be consuming later that afternoon. I don't really know why Dan does it; maybe he just likes to do whatever I do.

This year, I tried to get to the bottom of why he did, in fact, participate even though running is not his favorite hobby.

But I gave up when I asked Dan, "How do you like our annual Turkey Trot tradition?" and he replied, "I don't hate it."

Of course, when I told him I might be entering a Christmas fun run with my school, he asked, "Can I join too?"

Perhaps he enjoys it more than he likes to admit.

The Turkey Trot when it used to be a family affair

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