In the late fall of 1986, a running friend and I decided to stage a quaint little local 5k run on the scenic fairways of the Glenwood Golf Course. We decided to have it on Thanksgiving Day and call it the Turkey Day 5k. Seventeen runners and walkers showed up that holiday morning amid partly cloudy skies and warm temperatures. The party afterward may have rivaled the run itself as old friends and interesting characters told stories of bygone days well into the afternoon until the setting sun and the chill in the air told us it was time to part ways. Some of the older runners in the crowd that day even suggested that brains would always win out over youth, and it was a lesson that us youngsters should come to know well. Since I’m now a member of the older set, I’m not so sure there was any wisdom to their words.

Much to the chagrin of my family, The Glenwood Golf Course and the Turkey Day 5k became Thanksgiving to me for over three decades. Following a day of runners and a myriad of festivities that are too unusual to even put into words, I would roll into my mom and dad’s house, just after dark, to have a delicious meal that they were kind enough to have saved for me. I told them stories of the day and all the old faces I had come across. People I had not seen in years that were home for the holiday. You see, the Turkey Day 5k not only grew into one of the largest races on the western slope, it became one big class reunion for generations of natives to catch up and be a part of each other’s lives, if even for just one day. There was also plenty of good food on hand.

As is the case with many traditions, The Turkey Day 5k’s time eventually came to pass after a run of over thirty years. It was a special time period to me, as it was for many locals and their relatives who were in town for the holiday. There are still several Thanksgiving Day runs in the area for people to get in a little exercise and kinship before the big meal, but there was something about the run at the golf course in all kinds of weather that was magical. Every single year contained an assortment of unexpected and impromptu happenings that left us laughing and shaking our heads in disbelief all at the same time. It was like running’s version of the Woodstock music festival.

I will most likely head up to Carbondale on Thursday morning and do the 5k there at the community center. A run is also one being held in Rifle at Deerfield Park. It won’t be the same though, as those three decades up on the hill watching the fast and the slow, the families and the sightseers, and just the curious newcomers who would walk the fairways and take in all of the human and natural beauty of the day.

Thanks Turkey Day 5k, rest in peace. Many of the people who made you so special to me are gone now too. Those wonderful memories will never leave me and I will keep running as long as I am able. Your fairways will be quiet on Thursday, but much like the sound of the big bands and the ballroom dancers who no longer occupy their place in time, the quiet footfalls of the Thanksgiving runners on the Hill will forever echo in my soul and brighten my spirit.

Happy holiday and happy trails.

Glenwood Springs native Mike Vidakovich is a freelance sports writer, teacher and youth sports coach. His column appears monthly in the Post Independent and at PostIndependent.com.