“Alright,” I said to myself Thursday as my worn tennis shoes and red-headed ponytail bounced up and down on Lincoln Way. “Let’s do this!”

I was a speck in what seemed like a sea of people on a nippy Thanksgiving morning at the Sparks Marina. As we all waited at the starting line, I couldn't help but think that most of them had probably run a 10K before. It was my first time. Yep, I was a crazy turkey trotter who had no idea what she was doing.

Then, with a pop, we all took off. At that point, there was no way you could have wiped the goofy grin off my freezing face. I had written a news article for the Tribune last year on the Turkey Trot. My mission then was to get the number of racers, the winners in each division and a few sound bytes for local flavor. Somehow, I think I missed the point.

Nearing Sparks Boulevard, I looked around at my Thanksgiving Day companions. Some were giggling, others were catching up on the latest workplace gossip and, between gasps for air, I got to share a few laughs with my friend and co-worker who ran the race with me. This was the story.



I'm told that the trot's first year drew a crowd of more than 200 to what was then nothing more than a refuse pit off Interstate 80 and Sparks Boulevard.

Things had certainly changed since then. Over the past 10 years, the marina had become one of the better places in Sparks to go for a quick run. The empty fields off of Sparks Boulevard had exploded with the biggest commercial project Sparks has ever seen and the Turkey Trot became a tried and true Sparks tradition.

Two women trotters had been running the race as a family tradition for years. One lived in Reno, one lived in Sparks and every year, on a cold November morning, they warmed their hearts with a little run and some quality sister time. As my tired legs pounded back toward Lincoln Way, I noticed an older couple in front of me. The man and woman were dressed in their matching Turkey Trot sweatshirts and, even though they never spoke, I couldn’t help but notice a quick smile dart between them every so often.

Five miles in, I still had the same goofy grin on my face, just with a little more lactic acid coursing through my legs. Looking around, I wasn’t surprised to see the same smile mirrored on many other faces. As one woman, about my age, blew by my slumping figure, she threw me an encouraging thumbs up. The goofy grin burst into a little laugh. This was what the Turkey Trot was really about.

As I pounded my little peds to the finish line, I was physically wiped out but the energy was electric. I had run my first 10K race, and miracle of miracles, I finished. But that wasn't the exciting part.

A lot has changed in Sparks since those 200 people showed up 10 years ago at Helms Pit for a run in the muddy, cold November air. But after running the race, I could see why they did. The throng of people who huddled around the starting line probably had little more in common than the fact that they wanted to run. Here we all were in Sparks with our little tradition.