I will just say that if it was called the Turkey Trot, I wouldn’t have done it. But a Gobble Wobble? While I am not much for trotting, I am excellent at wobbling, so when I saw an advertisement for the city’s Gobble Wobble, to be held on the morning of Thanksgiving Day, I hurried to sign up. I have lived in Greenbelt now for six years – this then my seventh Thanksgiving, my seventh opportunity to do the Gobble Wobble – but this year was apparently the first time I found such an event enticing.
In that, I was not alone. There were record registrations this year with 238 people pre-registering, up from the average of 200 in years past, according to Andrew Phelan, sports and recreation coordinator with the City of Greenbelt. Three of those new registrations belonged to me and my children, Anja and Findley, who gamely agreed to come along with me. At 8:45 Thursday morning, we headed down to the Youth Center, where I quickly learned I had, just perhaps, slightly underdressed. It was about 32 degrees and most other people had on at least one extra shirt, if not a jacket, and gloves. I wore my leggings and my new long-sleeved Gobble Wobble T-shirt, once again woefully underdressed.
On the other hand, I was wearing my new toque, sent to me by my brother for my birthday two days before. This isn’t just any toque. It has Bluetooth speakers in it and a bright light on the front. It was comforting to know that while I might die of exposure halfway around the Lake at least my ears would be warm. And if I didn’t freeze to death doing the Gobble Wobble, later I could go spelunking, the headlamp in the toque lighting my way.
As I waited for the event to start and then ambled my way around the Lake, chatting with my friend Amy Hansen and clapping when the runners passed by, I thought about what made the Gobble Wobble special, about why we were all here, on a holiday, in the cold. About why we were all smiling. About the City of Greenbelt employees, who perhaps weren’t there on their holidays, but rather there as part of their jobs. There so we could do this, could gather, could be joyful.
I have been, like so many, suffering under a blanket of depression this last year and a half, a blanket woven of many threads. The looming threat of a pandemic over which I have no control; social isolation – some of my own making, some a necessary caution for my own and other people’s health; too much sugar, not enough exercise. While there are those who have used the life-change of the pandemic to get in the best shape of their lives, I have done pretty much the opposite. Sometimes I find myself in my pajamas at three o’clock in the afternoon. Sometimes I find it hard to get out of bed. I live with this and I keep meeting other people in Greenbelt who feel exactly the same way, increasingly socially isolated and increasingly unwilling to socialize, as that weight of depression starts to feel more and more familiar and as rousing ourselves to do anything feels like greater and greater work.
And then comes the Gobble Wobble.
Perhaps, like me, you decided to do it – with a friend, with a family member, with yourself. Thursday morning was cold but you’d spent the 20 dollars on the registration fee and your buddy was meeting you there so you kind of had to go, and soon enough you were there in the parking lot of the Youth Center. And you kept seeing people you knew and people you didn’t know, people who were grinning and chatty, clustered in small groups, happy. You saw city employees staffing water tables. You saw a woman dressed up like a turkey. Maybe you got your picture taken with her. And then the Gobble Wobble began and maybe you ran and maybe you walked, maybe you pushed a stroller or let a dog lead you. Maybe you talked to a friend. Maybe you gave it everything you had. And as you ran or walked or wobbled you saw a city employee with a sign directing you which way around the Lake to go – one way if you were running, or dreamed that you might run, and one way if you were walking and held no running aspirations. And later you came across another water table, with more people there, making sure you were all right, sitting in the cold ready to offer you hydration or conversation. And there were even spectators. A woman held a sign proclaiming, “You Are Awesome!” You don’t always feel that awesome, but here was a whole family clapping as you went by. When was the last time a stranger clapped for you? And perhaps you were wearing a toque with speakers in it, and quietly listened to Greenbelt’s own super band, Origami Angel, as you made your way around the Lake, and Ryland Heagy, who you used to babysit, sang “You are the g- d- King of the universe” and maybe you didn’t feel Kingly but you also didn’t feel bad. Maybe you were reminded of the power of encouragement, the power of kindness, the power of community. Maybe you had time to reflect on all the young people you have known and know now, and how insightful and generous and kind they are.
I can’t tell you what I thought about the Gobble Wobble before I did it, but now I know I will do it again. I will walk it or wobble it. I will cheer when other people run by. I may walk alone; I may walk with a friend. I will smile at you. I will encourage you. I will sing Origami Angel to you, you King of the universe. And I will thank the good people from the City of Greenbelt, for being out there, being cold, bringing the rest of us the Gobble Wobble. For hosting the event, that we may find our way to it.