Late on Saturday afternoon I looked outside and decided that it was time for Lanie to go for a run. The weather was nice: overcast and not too hot. Lunch had been digesting long enough in my stomach that I didn't think it would be a problem. It was time to see what this so-called jogging stroller was made of. I double-knotted my Nikes and locked Lanie's car seat into the stroller. Then we were off, gliding past block after block. Adapting my running form proved a challenge: eventually I settled on pushing with one arm while swinging the other arm like normal. Additionally, whether from the unevenness of the road or my one-armed pushing, the stroller kept trying to drift to one side or the other. Beyond these new challenges, I'm not in good shape, so I worked through four miles. (Side note: I have this recurring fear that my college self is going to time travel to my current time and kick me in the back of the head for being so terrible at running regularly. Always beware your time-travelling self.) Lanie, however, didn't seem to notice my efforts. Freed from the blinding glare of the sun, she took full advantage of not being shaded and stared at the passing homes, cars, and fields. I tried talking to her a few times. She ignored me, as I'm sure she'll do more and more regularly as she ages. Finally, after four miles of stoic silence, Lanie started to babble and smile as I walked around to cool down. She liked the run! I guess I better get used to pushing a stroller around.
Grace and peace,
BMH
No comments:
Post a Comment