So now that it’s December 1 and you’ve probably read about 387 turkey trot race recaps and a dozen ways to repurpose your turkey carcass, I thought I’d finally get my shit together and give you my very important and untimely version.
Thanksgiving morning, I woke up early and Kenzie just happened to wake up at the perfect time for me to change, feed and bundle her up in her orangest of cold weather gear and we jogged half a mile down the block to the YMCA where the “1st Annual” [cringe] Gobble Gallop 5k was about to begin.
I ran a 5k at the Y once before, and it was an untimed, unchipped fun run so I wasn’t expecting much, but when I got there I realized there were shirts, chips, bibs and everything.
Not having padded my schedule with enough time to pin on a bib or thread a timing chip onto my shoe, I freaked out slightly before reminding myself the starting line was 40 yards away and I had five minutes. So unless I was walking slower than a 3:47:08:01 pace, I’d make it in plenty of time.
Another nice surprise about this race was that they had a special starting corral-area-place just for us stroller people to make sure we didn’t trample each other or the other runners or get stuck all the way at the back with the walkers. So we started right next to the 10:00 pace sign on a side path that fed into the main trail.
Anyway, ready-set-go and we’re on this tiny fitness trail path and it’s really crowded and I start thinking this was a horrible idea. I’m not running as fast as I’d like but can’t pass anyone because the path is too narrow and nobody wants to get passed by a jogging stroller. People glance back at me and then like, pretend they don’t see me. I feel like an asshole even mentioning this. Mile 1: 9:12.
After a few minutes, the crowd thins out a bit and I start passing people. (The other 5k I did here was just a boring two laps around the fitness trail, so I was relieved when the course turned off into the neighborhood and the road opened up.) My pace is in the 9:0Xs and I probably have like, a really stupid grin on my face. My goal for this race was a 10:00 mile, so I’m slightly boggled. Again, not trying to be an asshole, but I am blowing past people and it’s kind of awkward. HUMBLEBRAG ALERT. This doesn’t happen to me very often, or ever. Just let me enjoy it. Mile 2: 8:46.
The baby begins whining just a tad and I tell her we’re almost done. I’ve never actually taken her running with me this early in the morning or in this chilly of weather. (It was high 40s, but she’s used to more like the 50s.) She’s bundled up good, but she’s not loving it. We pass my house and I consider just heading home but I’m still wearing the goddamn timing chip.
A few people make some cutesy jokes about how much we hate getting passed by you stroller people and I try to think of a funny reply but I can’t and then the moment is over and so I just smile and nod.
We wind through the neighborhood and turn back onto the fitness path and it’s all pretty much open road ahead of me. Kenzie’s not crying, but she’s whining at me and launching shit out of the stroller and I have to stop a couple of times just to pick up toys. My motivation for that last half mile: get the baby happy. Mile 3: 8:26.
I cross the finish line in just under 27:40. Official chip time was 27:17, 8:48 average pace. I feel rad. I don’t get any prizes but I still feel rad.
Probably way too much recap for a weeks-late 5k but there’s a reason why this blog only has 12 readers.
The other thing I came here to tell you about tonight is leftover turkey.
Last year at this time (give or take 10 days), as I have reminded you ad nauseum, I was obnoxiously pregnant and I was trying to do things to induce labor. It ended up that my water broke without labor happening and I’m not going to go into the rest of that long exhausting saga but my point is that around this time last year I ate turkey enchiladas.
This year, I was too lazy to make enchiladas, so I made the poor white girl’s version: turkey quesadillas with enchilada sauce.
It’s not designer food. I think you can pretty much slather any meat in enchilada sauce, simmer it a bit, throw some cheese on it and slap it between a couple of tortillas and it will be good. But damn, this was good.
Last, I just signed up for the Santa Hustle Half Marathon December 16, so I guess I’m running another half marathon in a couple of weeks. I’ve never done a half marathon in the winter and I’ve never done two just a month apart and I’ve never signed up for a race on impulse and also it only cost me 50 bucks, so that’s why.
That’s about it.