‘Tis the season!  The Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season is one of my favorite times of the year, and running in a Turkey Trot is one of my favorite ways to kick it off.  I’ve run races on Thanksgiving Day most of the past five years: Buffalo in 2010, Troy in 2011, skipped 2012 (still recovering from Hurricane Peanut), and Buffalo again in 2013 and now 2014.  Getting some fresh air and exercise feels so good before starting the holiday revelry.

I wasn’t sure I was going to run this year.  After the GBTC Cross-Country 5K felt so tough, I was a little bit unsure of my current ability to get the distance done again, plus about two more miles on top of that (even on pavement and at least half downhill).  Then I came down with a case of the don’t-wannas when I decided I’d rather be home, warm and dry, than wake up early to run in the cold and snow.  Then, in the middle of the night before the race, I woke up with a hideously painful leg cramp – a fun new symptom for this pregnancy.  (In my twenties, I used to get horrible charleyhorse cramps almost every night, but they went away after I started hydrating better.  I had leg and hip pain for awhile with Peanut, but more of a steady ache than a sudden raging cramp.  I am super displeased that the charleyhorse cramps are back.)  The cramp was so bad that I was jerked screaming out of a dead sleep, and poor Peanut was terrified.  (Yeah, we’re bedsharing now.  Don’t judge.)  It was really starting to seem like the universe was telling me to sit this one out.  Once I calmed my angry calf down, I went back to sleep and promised myself that I’d revisit the race in the morning.

When hubby woke me up my calf was still pretty tender and felt very tired, but I could walk and run on it and I already had my race t-shirt so I decided I really ought to saddle up.  I grabbed breakfast – steel-cut oats with peanut butter and a little maple syrup – and drove myself into the city.  The race is a five-mile (approximately; it’s 8K, which is 4.97 miles) point-to-point, so my finish line parking spot was miles from the starting line.  Hubby and Peanut nicely followed me to my parking spot and gave me a lift to the starting line before heading to Wegmans to run some last-minute errands.  I wandered up to the very back of the pack just as the gun went off and found myself starting with the walkers – fine with me, since I was looking to take it extra-easy on pace, between my tender calf and just being, you know, all pregnant and stuff.  About nine minutes after gun time, we crossed the start line and I settled into a steady pace running four minutes, walking one minute.

One of the best moments in the race is running under the “New York Central” bridge, when all the runners shout “Woo-hoooooo!” in unison.  I didn’t partake in the shouting this year – all my spare oxygen is earmarked for Nugget – but I enjoyed hearing the fun as I ran through.

Leading with your bump is always a solid race strategy.

I was doing really well running four minutes and walking one until about mile 2.5 when my phone gave out.  This has happened before (I’m long overdue for an upgrade – maybe next weekend I’ll make the time) and I knew I had plenty of battery power but the phone was refusing to cooperate because it was cold.  While I’m entirely sympathetic, I was annoyed that not only could I no longer take pictures, but my timing capabilities were disabled for the moment.  (I know where my Garmin is, but the charger is still in a box somewhere – ah, the joys of moving with a toddler and no time to unpack.)  So I switched my strategy to “running on instinct” until my phone warmed up inside my sleeve.  I tried to walk when I needed, while keeping the breaks to a minimum.  My new “running on instinct” strategy also forced me to be more mindful of why I wanted to walk – was it pregnancy-related discomfort, in which case I should absolutely dial it back, or was it general runner stuff, in which case I should push through if I could?  Most of my walk breaks were due to my legs being tired – Nugget was just fine, lulled to sleep by Mommy’s run – so I did attempt to keep a lid on the laziness.

Finally, a little before mile 4, my phone was warm enough to snap a few pictures again.  I kept my “running on instinct” strategy, though, and planned out my walk breaks based on distance (run to that flag, then you can walk to that light post) instead of time.

Before I knew it, I’d rounded the last corner onto Franklin and was headed for the finish line!  I found I had some gas in the tank, so I poured it on and passed about ten people before crossing the finish line.  Woohoo, done!

Final time: 1:11:31.  I’d say that was decent for a five mile run-walk with a 24-week baby bump along for the ride.  I’ll take it!

After the race, I immediately headed for my car where I threw back some water and drove straight home to this face:

Peanut is into accessorizing, so she’s wearing a “13.1” SweatyBand as a necklace.  Appropriate, for race day, don’t’cha think?

Because of scheduling issues (coughnaptimecough) we were unable to attend the family Thanksgiving celebration this year.  We were really bummed about this, but what can you do?  Toddler naptime is sacred, and we’ve messed with it enough times to know what a bad idea that is.  So even though hubby and I were both really down, we resolved to have a fun Thanksgiving, just us three at home.  Hubby worked on the turkey while Peanut and I handled side dishes and pie.  And by “Peanut and I handled side dishes and pie,” I mean I handled side dishes and pie while Peanut colored at the kitchen desk (all over a note from school, which luckily I’d already read), built herself a fort and climbed like a monkey on the kitchen island stools.

(While wearing my “Color Runner” sweatband – never used, by the way – as a choker, of course.  Until I took it away so I could try to get some decent pictures.)

Mission… accomplished?

I put Peanut down for her nap and then hurried downstairs to make the most important part of Thanksgiving dinner – pie!  Whenever I cook or host, I always have apple-cranberry pie from the Williams-Sonoma Savoring America cookbook.  It’s my favorite.

You can tell it’s a standby when the cookbook pages are splattered and stained.  It was every bit as good as I remembered from the last time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner, years ago.  (I swear I’m not lazy, just a mom.)

We sat down to our Thanksgiving “smalliday” with plates packed full of turkey, cranberry sauce (added after the picture was taken, don’t worry), mashed potatoes (courtesy of Wegmans!), sweet potato casserole and roasted Brussels sprouts (I promise they’re amazing).

Peanut ate turkey with gravy, sweet potatoes, and even tried two Brussels sprouts!

It was a THANKSGIVING MIRACLE.

Happy American Thanksgiving to all of my friends.  I hope that, if you were celebrating last weekend, you had a wonderful time soaking up the day with your families or friends, great food, and football if you’re into that sort of thing.  If you Turkey Trotted, I hope you killed it.  (The race, not the turkey.)  And I hope that you had time amidst the trotting and cooking and general craziness to pause and think about what you’re thankful for.  I’m thankful for hubby and Peanut, a warm house, a good job, food on my table, and you, my friends.