Andy and I layed in bed last night talking about our day in
what feels lately like an eternal state of whispering (because we live
here). I told him that since it’s been so warm outside, I decided to try out
the jogging stroller and actually jog this time.
He asked me how it went. I filled him in on
all the preliminary girl-story details like “Well, I put on shorts.
I know, can you believe it?
Shorts. Just last week, we had on our snow
gear. Anyway, then I decided we would run in the neighborhood across the street
because you know it’s so gorgeous.…so on and so forth. “
He listened quietly
then asked me how the jog was, how far I made it.
Then I broke it to him.
“I jogged for like five minutes.”
“Huh, stroller too heavy?”
“Nope.”
“Too windy? Too many hills? Too tired?”
“Nope, nope, nope.”
“Well, what was it?”
Then I reminded him, “You know how I get irked and give you
“the look” when you try to talk to me during runs and you don’t seem winded or
tired?”
(Pause for interlude:
There is just something about it. Eeek.
Is there anything more torturous than feeling like you need an oxygen
mask while you are working out with someone who I could swear is over there skipping
in breath-filled delight? I mean, no.
Anyway, I went on to explain that there is actually
something more difficult. And that I won’t ever
complain again when he isn’t winded during our runs.)
"Try pushing a mini human who is SITTING down the entire workout. Plays tricks on the mind, sweetie pie."
Then he laughed so hard we almost exited whisperdom.
"Um, she is a baby."
"Yeah, and a really cute one. But it doesn't matter. She is sitting and I am jogging."
I'm not sure where the conversation went from there. I think it somehow ended up on the dare for him push me in a stroller next time he goes for a jog. Then we talked about Tolstoy. Or not.
Moral of the story...
I will never look at jogging strollers the same. When I see super mom running down the road
with heaven forbid two little bitties in there, I will see one person pushing
two little people on a glorified couch.
So, there you go.
As for me and my girl, we might just stick to w a l k s.