Maybe This Is My Quarter Life Crisis Talking But I'm All In On Turkey Trots

I have a confession to make: I had turkey trots all wrong. For 25 years I looked at a turkey trot as a worst nightmare. Why would I ever go on a turkey trot? Why would I ever participate in any road race? I enjoyed Thanksgiving as it was, and I didn’t need any reason to change it. I wasn’t interested in joining the ranks of overachievers who think they have to earn their dinner. Let me be clear, there’s nothing about Thanksgiving that needs to be earned. You work your tails off, pay your taxes, stop your car at red lights, if for no other reason than to eat your body weight in stuffing and rolls on turkey day. It felt wrong to have to do anything to justify that.

Well, one thing led to another and this year I ran a turkey trot. I was nervous, I felt out of place, and I spent the entire lead-up to it wanting to leave. In fact, I debated just veering off at my turn and calling it a day. But let me say: I’ve changed my mind about turkey trots, because I’ve realized that they’re awesome. There’s no other sporting event that sets you up for success more. Hungover? Go ahead and turkey trot. Former Olympian? Don’t be a douchebag, go ahead and turkey trot. You don’t even have to run it! You could walk it! Or quit halfway! I think most people are drunk when they do it! The best part of it is: it makes you feel superior to everybody else! Seriously. Somebody comments on the fact you’re helping yourself to thirds? Go ahead and remind them that while they were sleeping off a BMI of 100, you were up at the crack of dawn turkey trotting racing.

In fact, I felt so good afterwards that I’m convinced that everybody who thinks they want to run a marathon, really just wants to run a turkey trot. So yes, dear reader, I have found my calling. I’ll be thinking about nothing else for the next 363 days than next year’s turkey trot because why run 26.2 miles when you could run 4? Turkey trots: none of the pain, all of the glory, and double the gravy.