Frozen Turkey on Thanksgiving

Well it sure seemed like a good idea at the time!

I'm talking about signing up to run the Westside YMCA's Turkey Trot. I remember sitting on my sofa, in my shorts and t-shirt, way back when, and signing up online.

But something happened on the way to my little jog through Ridglea.

It got cold. Real Cold. Bone-chilling Cold.

With a wind-chill in the 20's, I seriously thought about skipping the event. But I'd already picked up my official Turkey Trot T-shirt. There's something dishonest about wearing the shirt if you didn't run the race.

So there I was, standing in Camp Bowie with a bunch of other folks that were too darn honest to wear the t-shirt without running the race as well. The gun went off and off we went, most people running in an attempt to stay warm rather than to compete.

Of course, there were some that immediately ran way on out ahead of the pack. That group was comprised mostly of serious athletes. And teenage boys. So I plodded on, determined to earn the right to wear my Turkey Trot T-shirt. Actually it wasn't so bad once we got in the Ridglea neighborhood. Those great big two-story homes tended to block most of the wind.

I was satisfied with my time, and my effort. I even managed (barely) to finish ahead of a fit-looking, twenty-something guy. Of course, he was pushing a stroller.

I was even more satisfied by the number of teenage boys I passed towards the end of the race. And for you boys that ran out of steam and stood there looking back, acting like you were looking for a friend, I have one thing to say. You weren't fooling anyone.