The week of Thanksgiving is a busy and important time for all of us, but it is especially so for runners. Thanks to the popularity of turkey trots, Thanksgiving is the only holiday where you can wake up early to go for a run, and people treat you like you’re only a little crazy.
Thanksgiving is also one of the rare times when nearly every runner in town will be at the same race, and that race is also likely one of a small handful you might run every single year. The competition—against the field, and against your many younger selves—is fierce. The weather is… well, at least you can bet it won’t be too hot. What’s not to love about a turkey trot?
For many years, my Thanksgiving race was the Rockland Road Runners Turkey Trot in Congers, NY. My grandma lived in nearby New City and hosted Thanksgiving dinner every year, so most years I would stay overnight, run the trot, and come back to help set up for the holiday. By chance, my high school and college team captains were both regulars at the race too, which meant I always had a friendly face to turn to in the thousands-strong crowd.
From 2010 until 2018, I ran the trot six times. Looking back at my results now, a lot of things stand out to me.
Sitting here ten years on, I suddenly remember my college captain texting me when I missed 2012. It was my senior year; I had been cut from the team the previous winter and I hadn’t run since. I showed up for 2013.
I don’t even remember running my course best in 2010, but I sure as hell remember falling a few seconds short of it in frigid conditions in 2018. A lot changed in those eight years. I tucked into bed one Thanksgiving night as a kid going through the motions, and woke up another Thanksgiving morning as a working adult with the goal to run a marathon someday. I’m much more proud of 2018.
I won an age group medal in 2018, and so did my college captain. He left before the medals were handed out, so I held onto his. Despite a few attempts to log some miles together over the years, I still haven’t gotten it to him. I think about it every Thanksgiving.
I also think about my grandma. I stopped running that turkey trot after 2018 because that was the year she passed away.
My grandma was a lifelong athlete. I have some track medals from her school days tucked away somewhere, but I didn’t know about them until she passed. What I remember was how she joined us for a ski trip every year, well into her seventies and well into her cancer diagnosis. It’s maybe more accurate to say we joined her; she regularly skied 30 or more days a year.
She played tennis too, and swam laps to stay in shape for ski season. At 69, she completed her first triathlon. She became the kind of athlete who won her age group just by showing up.
My grandma was really good at showing up: ski trips, birthdays, graduations, a random summer trip to the Ben & Jerry’s factory, and more than her fair share of high school track meets. She was always there, always interested in us, always listening, always kind.
She spent three years dying of cancer and lived every minute of them. She made amazing stuffing every Thanksgiving. She was one of the most incredible people I will likely ever know.
Because of my grandma, and my friends, those turkey trots will always live close to my heart in a way few other races can. People (myself included) talk about Boston and other big races like the high holy days of the running calendar, but there may be no more sacred day for runners than Thanksgiving—our day to shine, our day to share, our day to sweat and suffer and smile, together.
For the first time since 2018, I ran a race over Thanksgiving weekend. Time will tell whether this is a new tradition, but right now I am so, so thankful for it.
Sunday: Needed a day off after a big comeback week last week.
Monday: 7, a little quicker than my usual easy day but I felt good. Took a detour from my usual route which was nice.
Tuesday: 4 easy. My low iron worries were starting to get to me today, and my run suffered a little for it. Bike at lunch was also a little off.
Wednesday: 4 easy, and much better.
Thursday: Took Thanksgiving off. It’s a little tricky to run on the years we’re with my in-laws because of all the travel, and with the baby in the picture now I figured I would save the hassle. Next year we’ll be more local, so I’m hoping to get back to a proper trot in 2026.
Friday: 3-mile shake-out for the NCR Half. Jogged to Falls Road Running Store to pick up my bib, and was a little thrown off by how downhill it was to get there. This turned out to be good mental preparation for Saturday, even if it might have been a little more physically costly than I wanted the day before a race.
Saturday: I ran the NCR Half Marathon in 84:52, good for eleventh place and first in my age group. This is technically a half marathon PR for me, though I probably ran about the same or slightly faster in some stretch of the 2024 Jersey City Marathon. That’s a slightly unfair comparison, so all things considered I’m still very happy with the race.
As I wrote last week, I had no idea what to expect, so I set a lot of really loose goals and told myself I’d see what happened. Having my brother-in-law, who was also running the half, there with me helped keep the mood light.
The race started with over 100 feet of elevation loss in the first mile, which was a shock to the system. As everyone’s paces started to settle down on flat ground, I found myself a group and tucked in. We hit the second mile in about 6:40, which was faster than I thought I’d be going, but I felt fine.
The great thing about longer races is you can talk to people. Here, I met Connor, who was planning to make a push at mile 3 or so. I figured the worst that could happen was I might eventually have to back off, so I went with him. We spent the next few miles chatting it up at 6:30 pace. So far so good!
Connor was a great running buddy, but eventually we realized I was feeling better than him and he encouraged me to push ahead. As soon as I did, I felt how different it was to be running that fast alone. While we were running together, I was shouting support for other runners as we passed them coming back from the turnaround. Once I was alone, I shut the hell up. I needed to focus.
Fortunately, I had something to focus on; there was a runner just a little ahead of me, and I was gaining. Suddenly I was ticking down toward 6:20 pace. It was getting harder now, but I still felt good. By mile 10 I pulled even.
I spent the next three miles trying to run away from this guy, but he stuck to me like glue. In the quiet of the woods I could hear every footstep. At times it was all I could hear. I kept pushing.
With a quarter mile to go, those footsteps crept up alongside me and darted off into the distance. I didn’t let it dampen my spirits, and kicked home to the finish. My wife was waiting for me.
I waited at the finish to congratulate Connor, who ran a huge PR himself, and some of the other runners I met on the course, and then my brother-in-law. The atmosphere at the finish line was perfect: crisp and clear and cozy, a pleasant merry buzz in the air. Everyone was friendly and having a good time. Cheesesteaks were waiting for our crew at home.
There really is nothing like a turkey trot.
This Week: 31 miles and a solid half marathon! If I can run two of those by April, I’ll get the 2:49 I’ve been after since Rehoboth. I’m currently reading Advanced Marathoning and looking forward to the work.
Baby: My son had his first Thanksgiving, and it did not disappoint. Dinner was a huge hit—he had turkey, stuffing, applesauce, and sweet potato, but mashed potatoes were his favorite! Our family had a lot of fun doting over him, and he was happy to be doted upon. On Saturday, he had a great time with his grandma while my wife and I were at the race.
I know how special this is.
theDNF 
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