This Thanksgiving, Thighs Get a Workout

Everybody remembers their first.

I was 19 at the time, older than most. I remember my stomach twisting with nerves and my hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. I worried about wearing the right thing, and tugged a hat on my head last minute. But it did a poor job of keeping my bangs at bay.

I remember ditching my dad about 10 minutes back and berating myself: if you give up now, you will never finish this. And then I remember the feeling of pure bliss when I finished, my heart racing and the arteries pounding so much blood to my head I couldn’t hear the music through my headphones anymore. I remember letting the air whoosh back into my lungs when I thrust my fists into the air, shouting an ecstatic, “Yes!” I remember realizing it wasn’t so painful after all. I did it.

I had run my first 5K.

“I ran it in 18:50. Something really bad for me,” says Adam Coy, a CU senior and veteran runner. Coy had run the 12^th Annual Briargate Family YMCA Turkey Trot, a 3.1-mile (5 km) trail that meanders through the asphalt of a Colorado Springs neighborhood.

And while Coy was doubling back to finish the race again with his father, I was puffing through the chilled November air at a nice pace of 10 minutes per mile. I’ll do the math for you: that’s a 30 minute 5k.

Which for me was quite an accomplishment.

“On your first time, have fun,” Coy says. “Don’t have expectations.” Amen to that.

If I did have expectations, I certainly surpassed them. Training for my first run consisted of one haphazard jog on the treadmill the previous night and the foresight not to drink milk that morning. But that’s not to say I had a perfect run. Every mile or so consisted of a nice stop to “check-my-i-Pod-I-promise-I’m-not-taking-a-walking break” (I totally was). I suspect my side trips to the water tables and burning desire to pass all of the smug 8-year-olds running beside me might have worn me out as well.

Mere yards from the finish, my stomach was churning and my calves felt like lead baseball bats. I didn’t care that I was running a charity event or “helping to build strong kids, strong families, strong communities;” I wanted my throat to stop tasting like copper pennies. Now that I think about it, maybe I was trying to meet some expectations. Coy tells me (too late) of my mistake.

“If you go too hard, you’re just dead at the end.”

Something similar happened to another trotter during her first time. I tried not to smirk as I passed my sister heaving air into her lungs, but you can’t ignore sibling rivalry. Four years my senior and modeled after a svelte gazelle, she seemed built to breeze through the race. So imagine my surprise when I rounded the loop with two miles to go, and there she was, puffing that same “I think I can” rhythm I’d done my first time. “My music wasn’t fast enough,” she tells me. Again, I tried not to smirk.

But as I ran my second trot this Thanksgiving, I had to swallow my pride (and phlegm) while pushing myself mercilessly; even a second time around can leave you breathless and aching.

Coy learned a similar lesson when he stepped up the challenge to run the Pikes Peak Ascent. A grueling trail that scales 13 miles and an elevation increase of 7,000 feet, the ascent can only by tackled by the best and, well, the fastest.

“It killed me; it was the hardest thing I’ve even done” Coy admits. “It was a bad race for me; I felt like I was going to puke.”

Luckily for Coy—and I suppose whoever cleans the track after the trot—this is not the case with the little 5k , a breezy jog that many do with the entire family.

“It is a great way to start your Thanksgiving,” says Tina Simpson, the wellness coordinator for the YMCA’s Pikes Peak region. “Everyone is welcome and included,” she says.

The event aims to garner attendance from all types of runners, from the Coys to the mildly athletic college student keeping her Freshman 15 at bay.

“The great thing about the Turkey Trot is that it is designed for all ages and abilities, from the competitive runner to the family that walks the course together,” says Joe Driskell, the associate executive director of the Briargate branch.

Much of the reason for the mass appeal, and why I didn’t collapse while running, stems from the inspiration of the event. Part of the Annual Partner’s Campaign, the trot raises money to fund membership fees for low-income families in the area.

The region holds a few other 5k races to aid the campaign. But the run hosted during Thanksgiving, a time when all must be reminded of what they have (and what others don’t), works as a great motivator. Especially when you’re tired and hot and can’t entirely breathe. Trust me.

Add in some warm sunshine and a growing epidemic of obesity, and you’ve got the record breaking attendance of more than 2,000 people to this year’s trot.

Driskell hopes to see a trend in this spike.

“The amount of participation and local support from sponsors continues to grow each year which in turn increases the amount of assistance that we can provide families in our community.”

After Coy states that he raced every weekend at one point, I think to ask him how many times he’s graced the trot. A smile crosses his face:

“Never. This was my first time.”