WiR 20241202 – Keep Trotting Up That Hill

The Big Thanksgiving Blowout Spectacular Week is ended and thus begins the most wonderful time of the year. It was my favorite when I was a kid for obvious reasons. My anticipation for Christmas Eve between the ages of 7 and 10 was off the charts. I even created a countdown calendar one year that started in October (I had no idea Advent calendars existed, they weren’t a thing in the lower working class circles we inhabited).

But more than presents, I was into it because unlike all the other holidays which were just a single day that came and went like that, Christmas occupied an entire season. It was the only holiday people really decorated for at the time, so seeing all the lights going up in the days following Thanksgiving and then heading over to the local shopping areas and malls to see everything suddenly festooned with candy canes, wreathes, ribbons, and Christmas trees for two or three weeks was a genuine treat. It was like the world was in technicolor at the end of every year, before returning to drab monochrome on January 1st.

Beyond all the commercial trappings of the season, it was also the only time we did a lot of baking at home. It was the season of cookies, pies, and chocolate. Our little place would be almost constantly filled with the aroma of gingerbread, sugar cookies, and popcorn right up until the big day itself.

Everything about the season was warm, inviting, and friendly. And for a kid living in a world that was decidedly not that, I welcomed and reveled in it like a warm blanket on a cold night.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I had a busy day. I ran a 5K turkey trot in my town that morning. It was my second 5K since taking up running a earlier this year and it was nothing like the first one. My first 5K was on a relatively flat course and I had a pretty decent run. This one, however, was designed by someone who didn’t want anyone to have fun on this run.

Since I’m no dummy, I went the day before and drove the course and for the first 2.5 miles, I was like I can do this easy-peasy. There would be a slight elevation climb on one of the legs, but nothing spectacular. But as I made a turn onto the last leg, I was suddenly climbing a hill that made me had to go into a lower gear to finish the climb and crest it.

Diabolical.

So now, all I’m thinking about prior to this run is having to go up this hill toward the end, leading to a dark foreboding amidst the general revelry prior to the run. The Hill loomed large in my mind and I ran slower than I normally would, keeping me in groups of people that I’d normally scooch on past. I constantly looked at my watch to keep an eye on my heart rate. I had a cardiac event last year that actually precipitated all of this stuff I’m doing, so I try to keep my heart rate below 180bpm during these runs as much as possible, and I kept re-calibrating my speed based on what I was seeing, knowing that The Hill was approaching.

A little past the third mile marker, I made the turn and began the gentle incline presaging what was to come. Those around me saw the sudden verticality in the distance for the first time and let out several exclamations of disbelief. I felt sorry for the parents who were pushing those big three-wheeled stroller things, because they were going to have a tough time of it. They came out wanting to do a fun thing on Thanksgiving morning with their family and suddenly discovered the course designer cared not for their mirth.

I was also thinking of the older folks that had been milling about in the pre-race crowd before the starting horn blared as well. Forget running, this thing was going to be difficult to simply walk. I remembered their good humor and laughter in the starting group just 25 minutes earlier and I wondered what their mood would be upon seeing this cruel joke that had been played on all of us. I hope they’d make it up and over all right, as the course designer clearly desired to make the news with the unfortunate demise of a senior or two.

I was maybe a third of the way up the hill when I had to admit to myself that wasn’t going to be able to run this whole course. I wanted to keep at it, but as often happens more times than I care to admit, the voice of Sean Connery from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade came into my mind and said to me, Let it go.

So I did.

I started walking and noticed that I was going faster than I had been “running” at that point, but it was still tough going. Luckily, people younger than me were doing the same thing so I didn’t feel too bad about abandoning my goal of running the entire course. The incline was sharper than a steep set of stairs and there was a point where I could’ve easily put my hands down and gone on all fours if I wanted to go beast mode for the last bit. But I resisted and maintained my bipedal mode of locomotion.

I finally crested the hill and began running again, finishing the last half-mile at a decent pace and coming in 7th for my age group, which felt good. Despite the challenges, I didn’t feel wrung-out or that I’d pushed myself too far. I actually felt like I’d put in a good workout. After stretching and milling about for a few minutes, I went home and immediately started on Thanksgiving dinner.

This year, I decided to forego cooking an entire bird since we weren’t having anyone over. I cooked a turkey breast in a crock pot using my sister’s recipe, as well as a sweet potato casserole, garlic and bacon green beans, and mac and cheese in an instant pot that are also my sister’s recipes. The cranberry sauce, as per tradition, came from an Ocean Spray can.

All of it turned out great. We feasted and spent the rest of the evening relaxing and watching football. The Bears and Raiders lost and the Packers won, so all in all A Good Day.

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