Trotting Like Turkeys

Whenever I start to feel guilty that my children prefer cookies over carrots, I remind myself that at least they also like to run.  And bike and hike and play sports and wrestle.  But not swim.  I have totally failed at that.

But they DO like to run!  Remember, no guilt.

Thanks to their father, a runner extraordinaire, they think donning a pair of shorts, t-shirt and a hat on a cold holiday morning and running one or five miles is fun!  They pay for the privilege!

Like many places, D-town puts on a local Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day.  They have a one mile fun run for kids and wimpy adults (kidding.  Sort of.) and a brutal five mile hilly course for those with no other option (ever heard of a 5K D-town?  They’re kind of popular).  Jay, of course, loves the 5 mile distance.  For him, it is a short run.  This year, Seth chose to leave the kids behind and lengthen his own stride but agreed the five miles was a bit too long.  He was tired at the end.

I was proud of all of my boys.  I have done it in years past (well...one) and I’m sure I’ll do it again.  I’ll at least do the wimpy 1 mile with Henry, who would probably prefer something shorter.

Working hard for their turkey dinner.

Goofy boys.

Jay in the pack.  Nice and steady.

Seth a minute later.  Probably started a bit too fast.  His 6:30 minute mile at the school might have given him some false confidence in a distance race.

Sam cheers on his dad and brother with me.

Here comes the leader!

It’s Jay!

Straining.

I love watching him run.

Breathe, baby, breathe.

Form check.

Checking to see who’s behind him.

Finishing strong.

Holy moly.  He just ran five miles in under 30 minutes.

Two cute boys in a tree.

Here comes Seth.

That’s dad in the background who went back to run in with him for a strong finish.  Because five miles wasn’t long enough.

A camera is just the right kind of motivation to finish with a sprint.

Not too shabby!  He said he walked a lot after the first mile so to average 10 min/mile, he must have run fast when he was running.

Sam rocked the 1 mile.

Love this leaping gait!

And.......here comes Henry.  Marching to the beat of his very own drum.

Nope. No one is behind you, buddy.

Who says you can’t race barefoot in Tevas?

Always cute.

Isn’t there a wise proverb about it’s not about the swift?

Happy Thanksgiving!