I bit the bullet. I have wanted to do a half marathon for a year or more, but things (work, family, kids, LIFE) kept getting in the way. I finally realized that if I didn’t just do it now, I would never do it.

I am doing it. i am running over thirteen miles. On Thanksgiving morning.

When i voiced my trepidation over Friday night drinks, my dear friend, fanatical and fast runner Nat, at The Negative Split, informed me that I should concentrate on the fact that i will be able to eat a whole turkey by myself at Thanksgiving dinner. Which I have to say does not sound half bad. Natalie, ever clothing-obsessed, also informed me that I will receive a medal, and that I am to not take it off on Thanksgiving Day, which should prove to give me some interesting family pictures. My children will show their grandchildren pictures of me wearing a medal at Thanksgiving dinner and the grandchildren will wonder when great-grandma went crazy. Obviously, the tipping point between passably sane and crazy was when I clicked the button to sign up to run thirteen miles. On Thanksgiving.

Perhaps you can tell I am nervous. There are hills. There is a wind tunnel effect downtown. A friend ran one year and people had frost on their clothing from the cold. What if it rains? What if I can’t empty my bowels before I start. What if I just have one of those terrible running days where I’m just not feeling it. What if I can’t sleep the night before? What if I oversleep?

Most importantly, how will I get through the night before Thanksgiving with my parents and without downing at least a whole bottle of red wine? This is unchartered territory. The possibilities for pain and disaster are endless. . . .

So, I beseech you, Metroblogging Atlanta readers who are just crazy enough to have run thirteen miles on Thanksgiving: I need your sage advice. I need your deepest Thanksgiving Half-Marathon secrets. I need your “how I made it” and “here’s what you need to do.”

In return, I think you will be getting a pretty giddy race report on Thanksgiving* Friday night.

*I will be in overdose mode from post-race Tryptophan and red wine ingestion and cannot guarantee Thanksgiving post.