In a weekend of over eating and craziness I tend to register for a few races to give me permission to eat more pie. This weekend started with the Run4Pie. Seriously. 3.14 miles and a pumpkin pie at the finish line. I, of course, didn’t read the directions on the pie until it was too late and it ended up being a soupy mess which I slid into the oven for it to become a singed mess later. With enough whipped cream you’d never notice (or at least that’s what I keep telling Mr Grumpy).
Anyway, back to the race. This race cracks me up because it is full of pie puns. The planners are either drinking while putting this race together or are seriously sleep deprived. There’s whipped cream shooters at mile three (to give you enough energy for that last .14 mile. Or to throw-up which what would be the case for me. I DIDN’T throw-up, but I would have if I tried to eat something so sweet while running.), live turkeys at the finish line (which did NOT look happy), and crazy people out to run on Thanksgiving morning. I’m seriously thinking that if they released those turkeys we’d all have run faster, or we’d all run faster to try to catch them, or…nevermind that would just be mayhem and possibly a health hazard.
In the spirit of a holiday “fun run” I decided that I needed to dress for the occasion. I found this awesome hat in October just for this weekend:
Today was the Schaumburg Turkey Trot. The turkey (the one on my hat, not the live ones) made his way out again (although today I pinned him to my hat. No more messing with the turkey while running). Mr Grumpy decided to go with me (he doesn’t run, but holds my stuff) and was being, well, grumpy. I wanted to up my game so I added one of these puppies to my “fun run” attire.
These “gobble” when you shake them. Slow runners in front of me: GOBBLE! Walkers who start too far in the front of the pack and won’t move over: GOBBLE! Adolescents handing you water saying “great job” when your lungs feel like they are going to fly out of your chest in frozen blocks of goo: GOBBLE! People complementing you on your hat: GOBBLE! Friends who pick on your hat: GOBBLE! Well, you get the idea.
Of course Mr Grumpy could not believe I was wearing the hat OR taking the gobbler (he so doesn’t get it). On the way to the race (with a little side trip for coffee and a sandwich) he put on Jump Around to which I added a gobble gobble at the end of each phrase. Good thing we waited until after for the coffee or it would have been sprayed on my dashboard. Always good to make the grumpmeister laugh!
Jump Around Turkeys!
reformedmarchingbandgeek 
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