Every year, at noon on Thanksgiving Day, thousands of radio stations throughout the US, regardless of their typical format or broadcast schedule, stop everything and play “Alice’s Restaurant”.
For those of you who are watching hour 7 of NFL pre-game or are knee-deep in mushroom and string bean casserole at that time, “Alice’s Restaurant” is an approximately 20 minute, mostly spoken-word, live concert recording story-song performed by Arlo Guthrie.
Arlo is best known for three things.
The first is Alice’s Restaurant. The second is an incredible mane of long, curly hair that would make Weird Al jealous. Lastly is that he is the son of American songwriting legend, Woody Guthrie.
If you don’t know who Woody Guthrie is (and, really, at this point, just unsubscribe here) he wrote little-known tunes such as “This Land Is Your Land” and was the main influence of an obscure artist named Bob Dylan.
I’m not sure how the tradition of Alice’s Restaurant began but I’m even more perplexed that it has endured. It’s long, it’s not particularly good and it is only tangentially related to Thanksgiving.
But, alas, some people like what they like and are comforted by things that come around year after year without fail.
I might be considered one such person (my lukewarm feelings on Alice’s Restaurant aside).
Yet, surprisingly, I have no such traditions when it comes to this very blog.
I mean, sure, it hits your inbox at 9:05 Eastern time every Monday. And you are almost certain to get some overwrought story of my life, a few pop culture references, a couple of well-placed Dad jokes and perhaps even some honest-to-goodness training advice.
But these things are more about consistency (and, perhaps my limited talents) than they are traditions.
This year, I’m going to try to fix that.
Last year, at the start of Hanukkah, I shared this blog post about my Grandmother. And it was fairly well-received. And while I pride myself on delivering fresh-off-the-presses content each week, this year I’m going to reshare that story.
Not because I have nothing to write about (I’ve clearly already tested your patience with the first 500 words here) but sometimes the best stories are the ones you get to revisit from time to time.
And if it does nothing else but give me another chance to honor my Grandmother, that’s also okay with me. So here it is:
Hanukkah is not a major religious holiday.
It mainly gets hyped as a way for us Jewish kids to have our own thing during the Christmas season.
And boy did that work on me. Because as a kid, I loved Hanukkah.
You’ve got presents, you’ve got singing, you’ve got decorations, you’ve got fire. What’s not to love?
Well, I’ll tell you.
Part of the Hanukkah tradition is to eat foods that have been fried to death. Which, in and of itself, could be seen as a positive.
However, the featured dessert are jelly donuts covered in powdered sugar - a treat called sufganiyot.
And while I don’t tend to be too picky about foods I absolutely do not like jelly.
To make matters worse, my grandmother would make homemade sufganiyot. And since they were a significant amount of work to make she’d get a bit chuffed if you chose to finish off a great night with a different sweet.
So my mother’s solution to this was very simple. She didn’t offer any alternatives. Sufganiyot or nothing.
Did this bum me out, watching my Dad down his fourth donut while I sipped on some tea with approximately 16 spoons of sugar in it? Yes, yes it did.
Couldn’t I just open a sleeve of Oreos or have a Pop Tart or eat anything (ANYTHING!) other than these jelly-stuffed nightmares?!?
But what are you going to do? Tradition is tradition. Particularly when it comes to religion. Regardless of how religious it actually is.
You’ve already heard me prattle on about maintaining your training during the holiday season. About how you want to be someone who trains regardless of the circumstances. That it is more about who you are than what you do. That you will be way ahead of the curve going into the new year if you, at the very least, get in a minimum effective dose.
But the other reason for many to maintain training during the holidays is that, for a lot of people, this is a difficult time of year. It’s stressful, it’s cold, many don’t have good relationships with their families and the holidays can really put a spotlight on that.
And maintaining a connection to your body and to your gym community (if you are lucky and enough to have one) are less pragmatic but equally powerful reasons to continue training during the holiday season.
Because everybody does feel better after training. Those hormones and neurotransmitters are real and they have absolutely proven to lift mood.
And while this sounds remarkably meathead, being around like minded people, getting a spot or a pat on the back or having a laugh can be a real solution to the connection people seek this time of year. Even if it’s only for an hour at a time a few times per week.
So if you are feeling lonely or a bit sad or anxious or overwhelmed, take an hour and get some training in. It may feel like a chore to start but it just might be the most valuable holiday gift you give yourself this year.
This year Hanukkah actually falls on Christmas Day. So we’ll head out to see my family and light the candles and sing the songs and open the presents and get to witness the joy we had as kids through my nieces and nephews and my own son.
And this year, once the menorah has been lit and the torn wrapping paper has been thrown away, there will likely be a variety of desserts. Because last year my grandmother passed away.
And I’ll look at the table. And it will be a painful moment when I remember that I’m finally getting what I always wanted.