Trotting For Turkey (RE-POST from 11/24/12)

This blog post isn't exactly accurate anymore. We still run in the Turkey Trot every year, but my brother's family has joined us again!

Enjoy this re-post from 2012!
 
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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Making the Case for Frozen (RE-POST from 12/14/14)

Well, the sequel is upon us. The other day, my husband, Dan, said, "Is it weird that I think Frozen 2 looks good?" I don't think that's weird, but he just likes Kristen Bell. Besides, Weezer is on the soundtrack. Double worth it. Enjoy this re-post about the original movie from 2014!
 

Last summer, Dan and I saw Gracie Gold skate in the Sun Valley Ice Show. During one of her solos, she floated out onto the ice, dressed in a glittery, robin egg blue leotard. A hush fell over the audience, and the music began.

All of a sudden, the parents in the audience collectively groaned, "Oh . . ." while the little girls beside them squealed and started to sing along.

Gracie Gold was skating to "Let it Go," the smash hit from the phenomenon known as Frozen.

I finally watched Frozen last weekend. I know. I'm about a year behind everyone else in the world.

I am not a mom, but I try to stay hip to kids' stuff because of my job. Even Dan watched it with me.

"I'm curious," he said.

I think it was mostly because he wanted to see what Robert Lopez, who composed the songs with his lyricist wife, Kristen Anderson-Lopez, would do with a kids' movie. Robert Lopez composed the music for Avenue Q and The Book of Mormon. (If you're not sure why this is significant, just Google it. You'll find out quickly.)

And the Lopez team did have some fun with the lyrics. Case in point: "Why have a ballroom with no balls?"

This year, I bought a Frozen songbook for my music classes. My choir students (even some of the boys) make me lead a Frozen sing along before rehearsal most mornings. I try to avoid the ballroom-with-no-balls song.

I have heard from parents that siblings fight over who gets to like Elsa and who gets to like Anna. One parent I talked to was relieved that one of her little girls was on Team Anna and the other was on Team Elsa.

The other day, I was trying to appear cool to a three-year-old, and I mistakenly pronounced "Anna" with a short vowel (rhyming it with Hannah). I was immediately corrected.

"It's Anna," the three-year-old said with a royal air, pronouncing the "a" vowels "ah" (like in father).

I decided I had better watch the movie so that I didn't lose all credibility with the six hundred kids that darken my classroom door everyday.

The verdict?

I thought it was a great story, surprisingly focused on the strength of the female characters, although their waists are still too small.

One of my Frozen fanatic students said with a knowing grin, "I bet you loved the 'Let it Go' scene."

I did and not just because of the awesome animation sequence where she flips her hands around and creates the best ice palace ever.

I had heard a lot of my music friends complain about "Let it Go" being poorly written and overplayed and badly sung by amateurs. But the song is about a woman's coming of age, and she doesn't even have to get married at the end, like in most Disney princess movies.

In fact, Anna, who takes the typical Disney princess route and falls in love at first sight instead of getting to know the guy first, actually finds out Prince Charming is not so charming.

Elsa, however, is going to do things the way she wants, not the way her society wants. She is not going to hide the feminine power that makes her unique and a little dangerous. The song's message is one of women's liberation, except her waist is still too small.

My students know Idina Menzel now. They think they discovered her. Never mind her almost-twenty-year theater career. But Frozen has made this Broadway veteran a household name for my kiddos. I love it.

I have deep conversations with my kindergartners now on the science of Olaf and how he loves the warm summer, but if he gets too warm he will melt, so Elsa gives him his own cloud, and that is so exciting. And then we get up and pretend to melt like snowmen to music. I am teaching high and low, and the kindergartners don't even know what hit them.

The kids at school keep telling me about a Frozen sequel. I'm not sure how that will work out because . . . you know . . . origin stories.

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I'm Gonna Talk About My Period (Men, Beware)

Faithful readers, you know I am not afraid to talk about female stuff. You might remember the Great Mammogram Post of 2017.

This time, I am going to discuss my period and, again, not in a sexy way.

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Faithful readers, you also remember I am in my forties now. And, wow, the times they are a changing.

I've written about my newly acquired jaw issues and the aches and pains and wrinkles that decided to grace my forties.

"Forty-something is a weird age," my husband, Dan, said. "You can still do things, but sometimes it hurts."

Lately, I have been getting migraines with auras pretty regularly. They are not tied to any particular food, like my mother's were. I have had aura migraines since I was sixteen, but not on a regular basis. I would get one every two to three years. They often followed a high stress/high adrenaline time, after a music program, choir concert, or theater production.

Since I turned forty, I have had one or two every month.

I thought this was coming from out of nowhere . . . until I realized, "Weird. These are happening a couple of days before I start my period."

I knew my hormones were going a little haywire. Last year, I talked to my doctor about the strange periods I was having.

"Some months, I'm just spotting, or I barely have a period. Is there a chance I could be . . . pregnant?"

"Probably not at your age, especially while you're on birth control," she said. "This sort of thing just starts happening during your forties. Next month, your flow might be very heavy."

She was right. Go figure.

This year, I told her about the migraines.

"It's like a switch flipped when I turned forty," I said.

"At least you don't need a colonoscopy until you're fifty."

"That's something to look forward to," I said. "Maybe the technology will be better in the next ten years."

"I keep hoping for that too," she admitted.

By the end of my visit, my doctor had adjusted my birth control. I am supposed to take it continuously for ninety days to avoid the estrogen drop before my cycle. The best thing about this is I will only have a period FOUR TIMES A YEAR!

"I'm so excited to not get a period next week!" I said to Dan.

"Is this going to be like that SNL skit?" he asked.

"Probably. Watch out! Ha ha!"

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Things I Said This Week . . .

Have you ever wondered what it's like being around me during the week? Probably not. There's like a 99.5% chance you've never thought about it at all.

But, just in case, I took notes this week. Every time someone (usually my husband, Dan) looked at me like I was strange, rolled their eyes and sighed, or laughed at something I said, I wrote it down.

Here are the top five.

"This is a Burlesque dance. I’m basically learning how to be a stripper right now."

I yelled this at Dan while playing Zumba World Party on the Wii U. I have officially turned into the middle-aged neighbor lady who dances provocatively in her living room with the windows open (with or without a glass of wine in her hand).

"Dan, I need your help! I’m not coping well, even though I just told my insurance I do!"

Moments before, I had taken a personal health assessment for my insurance. I had marked "excellent" at coping with stress. Then I closed the laptop, walked into the bedroom, and exclaimed the above statement.

"I'm going to church. I've got to quit saying the F-word."

It was Sunday morning, and I had just read yet another #facepalm news story regarding Trump.

Enough said.

Speaking of the F-word . . .

"Kanye doesn't even swear on this album! What is Kanye without the F-word?"

This was in response to Kanye's new "I just found Jesus" album that dropped this week.

I was climbing into a crate at the theater the other day, in an attempt to help sort set pieces.

"It's taking me a while to get my leg over this crate. Forty-two-year-old problems," I said.

"You're forty-two?" one of my theater friends asked. "I thought you were in your thirties."

"Just kidding . . . Yeah, I'm in my thirties . . ."

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