You Can't Make Me Wear Running Tights On Thanksgiving
Have you heard of this "active holiday" trend? You know, where people get outside as families and recreate during Thanksgiving or Christmas?
They say it's wonderful. That the fresh air revives you. That you burn calories to offset a heavy holiday meal. That you bond as a family.
I say GET REAL.
Turkey Trot? Yeah Right.
Take this Turkey Trot thing happening in communities around America. A 5K? IN NOVEMBER?
I can just picture my family running a 5k together. First of all, my husband doesn't even own running "bottoms" of any kind. I have one word for his uniform of camo shorts with utility pockets: chaffing.
I, of course, have plenty of "active casual" wear but generally prefer to be more "casual" than "active" in it, so that's an obvious problem.
Let's say that by some miracle we do manage to get dressed appropriately for this Turkey Trot and arrive on time. We register and get our plastic numbers--or whatever people do at these kind of things--and then work our way over to the starting line where we are greeted by minions of fit people in tights.
Tights, people. This means we can see their well-defined muscles from running, which is what we'll be doing shortly, minus the "well-defined" part.
The race will start. My goal will be two-part: a) to not lose my children in a throng of people, and b) to not die. The first will be difficult because obviously they can run in that irritating way young people do without getting winded. Which means they'll be WAY get ahead of me, among the minions in tights. Conversely, I'll be sucking wind after two minutes and walking like a hunchback while clutching my side. Progress will be slow.
Eventually we'll finish, or surrender--whichever comes first. I'll probably be nauseated, which frankly is counterproductive to the plan of EATING THANKSGIVING DINNER, which is the high point of the holiday in the first place.
Another idea people seem to think is fun is playing football. No, I did not say WATCHING football; I said playing it.
On the one hand, pick-up football has spurts of activity followed by a lot of meandering about. Thus chaffing is far less of an issue, and I'm not likely to get too winded. Which is all well except for two things: flying balls headed toward my face, and tackling.
Regarding the first - flying balls headed toward my face - I know that God helpfully provided me with two arms to shield my face from objects hurtling through the air but somehow I've missed the part where you learn how to use them TO CATCH THINGS. I will be hit squarely in the nose. It will hurt.
As for tackling, I don't care what people say about it being a "touch" game: when there are kids (and some middle-aged men - you know who you are), there will be tackling. And guess who is just the funnest person to tackle? Mom.
Thanks but I'll pass.
No You Can't Make Me Wear Running Tights On Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is a holiday for gratitude and family. It's a time to share our thanks to God for all he's given us, and to share our thanks for each other.
Though I'm sure recreation enhances gratitude and connection for some families, it wouldn't for mine and I'm okay with that. The focus for our family this year will be good dinner conversation, some mutual sports cheering, passing around babies, making Christmas plans, and generally enjoying each others' company amidst a pile of food.
No tights required.