I was shivering in my back yard at 3 am with my flimsy sweatshirt hood as my only protection against the rain. Standing there in my husband’s slip-on shoes at least four sizes too big, I waited patiently for my new puppy to make number two.
He’s still learning to make the connection between potty time and outdoors, so if I don’t stand there with him, he just will follow me back inside to do his business. Sigh. He’s lucky he’s cute.
Suck it up; I reminded myself. In a few short hours, we were registered to run a local turkey trot, and if the weather forecasters were to be trusted, the rain wasn’t intending to cooperate for my comfort.
A couple of hours after the puppy and I went back to bed after our middle of the night potty break, it was time to get up for the race. 6 am on a day off? Ugh. I wasn’t behaving like someone who was thankful.
I am thankful for a healthy heart and strong legs that enable me to run races. Grateful for a fun husband who goes along with my crazy ideas—Want to get up at 6 am on a holiday to run in the cold rain?
Thankful for the financial ability to spend money on recreational activities. Grateful for a paid day (or two) off of work. Thankful for the little dinner we had planned that night. Grateful for an adorable new puppy which includes midnight potty trips, and an older wiser dog who knows better than to wake us up in the middle of the night. No, at that moment, I was complaining. More grumble than gobble.
Hubs and I run the turkey trot every year. Well, not the big Fort Worth Turkey Trot, but a smaller local race, the Cox Running Club Thanksgiving day run. I started running this race many years ago because they offered finisher medals for the 5k, and the big race didn’t, but over the years, this changed, and all the races have medals now.
I prefer the smaller race because it’s easier to manage the crowds, and parking is less of a hassle. Packet pick up would have been hassle-free also, except the lady in front of me was picking up 15 bibs. I don’t even think I know 15 people in Fort Worth, let alone 15 people willing to run a 5k—I could barely muster up one who would run in the rain.
I ran this holiday race alone many times, but these types of events are more fun with friends and family, so I twist hubby’s arm to run it with me each year. We signed up months ago. He wasn’t thrilled about the rain forecast, but he’s a trooper and agreed that if I went, he would go. I know him well enough to know that he was secretly hoping I would change my mind, and even though I didn’t say it out loud, I was hoping for that too.
I had prayed the weather forecasters would be wrong, and I’d wake up to sunny skies and warm temperatures. I mean, aren’t they notoriously wrong?
Nope. It was still raining and cold.
We bundled up. I wore a hat and a hood and brought a plastic poncho in case our luck swerved for the worse. We headed downtown to run the race—Remember, this is supposed to be fun!
I decided to change my mindset. I crafted a Facebook post with our before picture so I could at least laugh about it.
If it ain’t raining, we ain’t training.
If it ain’t pouring, it’s boring!
Torrential downfall? Let’s run y’all
Pleasant is boring; Messy makes a better story.
Parking was a breeze thirty minutes before the start, and no one was even lined up at the start line yet. I warmed up with some squats, walking lunges, and leg swings while the rain slowed to a drizzle.
By the time the 5k kicked off, the rain had all but stopped. I was thrilled and thankful that I didn’t let the threat of a little rain stop me from continuing this holiday tradition.
The weather turned out to be perfect. (Ha! I knew those weather forecasters would be wrong!) We had to hop a few puddles, and run around the mud, but we ran along the flat course with relative ease. I’ve been focusing on strength training for the last few months, so it was fun and challenging to pace myself for three miles.
I was mindful to settle into a rhythm that was slightly faster than comfortable, but not a hard effort. After all the weather drama, I wanted to enjoy myself. Holiday races aren’t about personal records; they’re about fun and traditions. Besides, I hadn’t been training for a faster 5k, so I couldn’t expect one. You get out of training what you put into it. This race was purely for fun.
I pushed my pace only after I passed the mile three marker with only .1 to go in the final stretch. I finished strong under pleasant Fort Worth skies.
With less grumble, we finished strong and headed home to prepare to gobble our Thanksgiving dinner.
When I saw the race results, I was pleasantly surprised and delighted that my leisurely pace placed me 2nd in my age group (of old ladies) rankings.
Another benefit of running a small local race—less competition.
Did you run a turkey trot? Did you grumble and complain about it like me or did you remember to be grateful?
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