Diary of a Turkey Trot: One Vogue Editor Weighs the Pros and Cons of a Pre-Thanksgiving Run
As an overworked New Yorker, there are few things I look forward to like a break from my whirlwind schedule of meetings, social outings, and deadlines. Thanksgiving offers such a breather, and I arrive home with a glistening agenda of doing absolutely nothing. My athletic siblings, unfortunately have other plans: They prefer to participate in a 6.2 mile run officially known as a Turkey Trot that occurs annually the morning of Thanksgiving. On this matter, we are a house divided—and I’m certain that we’re not alone.
There are two general reactions to the question, “Do you want to get up early and run on Thanksgiving morning?”
One category of Americans—let’s call them The Chillers—will react by making excuses like, “I would, but that old freshman soccer injury is really flaring up,” before turning the conversation to the number of episodes of Homeland they plan on watching over the weekend.
The other group—let’s call them The Overachievers—will say, “Yes! I was just thinking that!,” wondering aloud if you should meet early and walk to the race in order to squeeze in some extra cardio before the big meal.
I have, at one time or another, fallen into either of these opposing camps. The first time I ever ran the Turkey Trot, it was not by choice. A natural-born Chiller, my vision of Thanksgiving weekend involved napping with abandon, baking (and consuming) more than one flavor of pie, and reading great American novels while my family cheered on the NFL teams. The theory here being that I work out hard enough during the rest of the year. So, imagine my surprise when, a few years ago, I learned that I’d be rising with the sun to compete in an all-ages community race.
“We signed everyone up,” said my sister, un-empathetically. As we geared up the next morning in layers of spandex and fleece, my expressions of disapproval (long, intentionally audible sighs) were largely ignored. We arrived at a wooded park in Novato, California, to find a grown man dressed in a full turkey suit, athletic couples helping one another reach their stretching potential, and children already running around.
As we approached the starting line, I learned that there was an option to run one, three, or six miles, and my family had benevolently registered us for the longest distance. Along the trail, things did not improve. At no point did I reach a runner’s high, and after being lapped at mile three by a man who, due to his age and pace, I will refer to as The Silver Fox, I considered giving up all together. My thoughts wandered from “I hate running,” to “this needs to be over.” Nonetheless, I survived it—and there was still enough time to enjoy the turkey on the table and sleep in during the days that followed. I survived the next year’s race too, and, by the third, I actually kind of looked forward to it.
There is no right way to do Thanksgiving morning. But I can tell you that a vigorous hike, breezy bike ride, or the polarizing Turkey Trot before the big meal does provide extra confidence when filling your dinner plate with seconds or thirds. You can usually sign up for the latter as late as the morning of, and are almost guaranteed to find a race in your hometown by Googling a national directory. As for my family, whether we sleep in or rise and run doesn’t really matter, as long as we do it together.
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