Apparently there is a trick to running with a jogging stroller. The first time I ran with Bob, I held on to the handle with both hands. Holding on for dear life, squeezing the handle like nothing else.
That’s not how you do it. Who knew?
No wonder my neck felt like it had been squished in a vice. And I wondered how people could possibly run pushing one of these things and actually enjoy it? I got my answer- not like that, they can’t.
You are supposed to hold on and push with one hand, alternating the other arm in a pumping, natural running-like motion.
That makes it SOOO much easier. I actually enjoyed myself. Sort of.
Except that I got a late start.
I have been trying to run in the period of time between picking Lucas up at school and getting Madeline off the bus. It’s a very small window. Yesterday, it shut on me.
I got halfway around the neighborhood when I spotted moms congregating on the corner, waiting for the arrival of
Oh.My.Gawd. An audience. Just what every out-of-breath, beet red, overweight jogger wants.
I contemplated my options. Ignore them all together, pretending to be so wrapped up in my iPod music that I barely noticed anyone. Start walking so I would have time to catch my breath and look halfway normal by the time I got to the corner. Or keep running, do a little head nod and keep on plugging.
The decision to keep on plugging had been made when I had a little accident. Thing One and Thing Two popped right out the top, sprung loose from their Nike activewear home.
I did my best to bend over, running at an almost 90 degree angle to hide the carnage, ignoring the people congregated at the bus stop. I am quite sure I looked like I was either searching for a lost contact or about to vomit. But never mind, there was NO way I was stopping at that point to “fix” myself. No way at all.
I do have some pride.
Thinking it is time for new…..equipment. Stat.