Posts Tagged '5K Races'

Never Say Never

Since I already bored shared with my Facebook friends my Turkey Trot pictures, I wasn’t going to bother posting about it.  But after my boys said I was slacking off a bit on my blogging, I decided to share the day with you, just to prove to you all that I’m not a total slacker.  And hey, I got nothing else for you.

I meant it with my entire heart and soul when I said I was done running 5K races.  The novelty was gone.   It wasn’t really fun anymore.  And even though I train more than I ever did, my time just keeps getting worse.  I’ve peaked.  It’s so sad. 😦

Meanwhile, the forces that be (like my active family) keep after me to stay young and healthy.  Sometimes I wonder if hubby is just afraid of what I’d look like if I didn’t run at all, knowing how much I love to eat!

Looks like fun, huh?

Anyway, Thanksgiving Day turned out to be a perfect running day.  Even at 9:00 in the morning it was sunny and bright, with just a nip in the air.  Youngest Son had picked up our race packets and T-shirts the night before and somehow got roped into being the Turkey.  He was the perfect turkey, handing out the awards at the end, socializing with the racers, and posing for numerous photos.  It was hilarious and I think he’s glad he did it…once.  He was overheard telling some people that “it was not a good life choice.”  The turkey costume added about 10 pounds to his athletic body and several minutes to his run time.  It was an ancient, hot costume with a plaster mold inside the head that gave him almost zero visibility since the only holes were the two eyes, and those eyes did not correspond to where a human’s eyes would be.Me and my boys before the race

Since I started the race somewhere in the middle of the pack, I completely missed the show at the start of the race.  The hard-core runners usually gather at the front, not wanting to waste any time getting stuck behind some slow runner and shaving minutes off their time.  These people actually have a shot at the trophies.  Youngest Son, being the star of the day and all, muscled his way to the front.  One reason was because he thought it might be safer up there with nobody in front of him, being that he couldn’t see and all.  What he didn’t realize was that even though they were in the front, people would cross in front of him.  Legs got tangled with his turkey drumsticks, and about thirty people went down, including the turkey.  Some people that witnessed it said it was like a domino effect.  I had no knowledge of this until I heard people asking the turkey how he was after the race.  I was too busy trying to make my breakaway in the middle of the pack.  I was boxed in on all sides and could barely break into a trot.

suffering on the final hill

I have to admit, I actually had fun, although it certainly wasn’t obvious from the expression on my face when I was climbing the hills.  The music, the camaraderie, all the familiar faces and the beautiful day made for a fun experience.  A lot of money was raised for local charities and many calories were burned for maximum turkey feast enjoyment.  I can’t say for sure if I’ll do another race.  And no matter what I say, there’s no reason to believe me.

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The Pictures Say It All

This is how we spent our holiday weekend:

Youngest Son running local 5K

Youngest Son running local 5K

Oldest Son (shirtless) across the finish line

Oldest Son (shirtless) across the finish line

Me--Stuffing My Face

Me--Stuffing My Face

Notice there is no picture of me running the race.  No wonder I can’t lose any weight!!!

The Torture of the 5K

They’re sitting on the table, taunting me. Three 5K sign-up forms, one addressed to me, one to Youngest Son, and one to Soldier Son. Obviously, Soldier Son won’t be running this Memorial Day. He’s in Iraq. And I have no intention of running. I swore that my last race was two summers ago, until the family guilted me into running that fall in the Turkey Trot since Soldier Son had just come home from basic training and decided to run his first race. Don’t get me wrong. I love the camaraderie and the community atmosphere of these things. I also love the sense of accomplishment I feel when I finish. It’s just all the torture in between I’m not too fond of.

I never expect to win these things. At first, I was happy just to be able to run across the finish line and not be dead last. In fact, my very first Turkey Trot several years ago, I came in dead center for women in my age group (11 out of 22) at a respectable but certainly not impressive 31.42 minutes. I trained hard with Youngest Son for the following Fourth of July race but only shaved about a half minute from my time. I must have peaked there, because no matter how hard I’ve trained, it’s been downhill from there and it’s not because I didn’t work at it. Youngest Son was an awesome trainer. He had me running hills with him that most people wouldn’t walk. He had me sprinting until my legs felt like rubber. He does great in these races. He usually places or comes pretty close. But, unlike me, he never gives up. When we’re training and it hurts too much, I’ll quit running and start walking for a while. He looks at me disappointedly and says, “Just tell yourself walking is not an option.” That works for him.  But for me, it’s one of two options–walk, or die.

Youngest Son is thinking about doing this Memorial Day Race so I’ll hang on to these sign-up sheets for a while. And I’ll be there, too. On the sidelines, cheering him on.


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