Not as embarrassed as I could be

I did not complete the Turkey Trot. I barely started it. I am okay with that.

I know between 2400 and 2500 people were signed up, and there didn't seem to be nearly that many people there. There may have been people who did even less. I remember hearing someone near me say that he would have been fine with taking the group picture and going back to bed. Still, I was there.

I'd had concerns about timing, but I had worked out a very specific plan for getting up early, getting dinner going, how long I thought the Trot should take, and what needed to be done for the Thanksgiving meal when I got back. The only thing I could not manage was the right amount of time for the rolls to rise, so I gave my sisters instructions for that.

Otherwise I was very organized. Wednesday night I set the turkey pan and the foil on the stove, next to the slow cooker and the brown sugar for the ham. I usually just cook the ham after the turkey comes out of the oven, but my sisters had expressed interest in this video showing slow cooker ham with pineapple and brown sugar, so I tried it. (I didn't care for it, but they thought it was good.) Other non-perishable items were on the counter. The pan for the rolls and the cooking spray and plastic wrap were on the opposite counter. My clothes were laid out with my race supplies in my hoodie pocket. I was set.

The morning went really smoothly. I had built in time for the animals to have needs, having learned from the last time we needed to be somewhere early. I got up, prayed, fed them, started the turkey, started the ham (which included de-boning it, because otherwise it would not have fit in the slow cooker, but I had tested that). I checked my blood sugar, medicated, and ate breakfast. The only variation in the plan was that I decided I would really feel better showering before, even if I would need to shower again later. I did that and still made my bus.

I was pretty proud of this. Planning and preparation had paid off. Then I was there at the starting line and it just didn't feel right. I tried to shake it off, because I had really been looking forward to it and I had written about it enough that people could totally have asked me about it. How could I not do it? But the mental "No!" was really strong, so I turned off into a parking lot, assessed, and decided this wasn't my thing. I considered doing something else, like going and walking downtown again, or this walking route I have around home, but ultimately going home felt best, so that's what I did.

In an effort to pack light I had not brought my keys. I did not want to pound on the door and get everyone out of bed, so I sent a text to Maria around the time where I know her alarm was set (also knowing that she was likely to hit "snooze") and Julie came and picked me up at the transit center. I did feel like a loser, but having gotten up, set a holiday meal going, and made it there while everyone else was in bed, no one at home was calling me that.

It was disappointing, but the decision to stop still felt right overall.

I think there were three possible factors in terms of why it felt more like "Do not do this!" rather than "This is not going to be fun, but push through anyway." (And I had expected it to be fun. I was just on that hill two weeks ago and I liked it.)

One is that I had not gotten enough sleep. I should have gone to bed earlier anyway, but then I just could not get to sleep. That was probably from having too much to do. Maybe most of the participants let other people cook.

Also, it is starting to get to be time to replace my shoes. My feet did not feel great, but again, I was wearing them two weeks ago and they worked fine.

Finally, my insulin dosage was recently changed, and I could not rule out that the exertion would lead to a plunge in blood sugar. Testing when I got home it was fine, but that was without doing much trotting. I had supplies for that, but let's say it plunged when I had gone up the hill and down and was at the part where you needed to start going up again - even with supplies on hand that would have sucked.

That last one is the biggest concern, where I sometimes wonder if my goal of doing a triathlon at 50 (for which the Turkey Trot was a step along the way) is realistic. If it's not, I can still get better at running, and get back into cycling, and develop some form for swimming (I enjoy swimming, but I know I could be better at it). The purpose of the goal was to know that I am entering 50 vital and moving, and I can still do that.

I also have to admit that I am not very vital now. Well, there are ups and downs to it. I do have some strength and endurance; they also get tested a lot in ways that are not fitness-related.

My post titles this week have been awkward and not at all snappy; they have also conveyed the moods of the posts and of my life right now. Said life is currently full of compromise and adjustment, but also one in which I am growing a lot, and where successes are small but there are still some.

I wanted to complete the event, I do not regret not doing so, and I still have some pride at my organization and execution of the morning right up until the time that I veered off to the side to look at the rest of the crowd and decide I did not belong in it. I have questioned whether I should have signed up in the first place. It felt like a good idea at the time.

That one is more complicated. If I had worked more on improving my sleeping patterns, or if I had been more proactive in working with the doctor so that my insulin dosage was already correct, would it have worked? But - and I say this fully believing that I do not achieve maximum efficiency - those things are hard, and I already have a lot of hard things to do. Navigating insurance and scheduling an appointment where I have coverage for Mom and am not conflicting with any of her appointments? There's a reason why yesterday was the first time I'd seen a dentist in two years. (Which did not turn out terrible, but I don't recommend that.)

So, that was my Thursday, and my Thanksgiving, but also this is very much me.