Greg and I have talked about getting a jogging stroller for a while. I squeeze in the occasional jog, but I’d like to get out more often. I do have some time to myself after I drop Eleanor off at the babysitter before leaving for work. But that time comes at 1 p.m.
Can we talk about 1 p.m. in Austin during this hellish summer? We have now had 67 days where the temperature has hit 100 degrees or more. Austin’s all-time record is 69 days. And the skies have deigned to spit on our yard maybe twice. Spit, not rain. Our grass is evaporating, and I’ve got a killer tan from driving to work (and I do not drive a convertible). Even my 9 a.m. runs leave me feeling a little ill from the heat.
I’ve lost all the baby weight, but my midsection still looks mushy. I know I’m lucky to have lost the weight and that I shouldn’t complain, but I always thought things would go back to the way they were if I worked hard enough.
The jogging stroller would allow me to get out early, which I hope would mean that I would run more. I wouldn’t be able to go far though because those strollers (and my kid) are heavy. Would I really use it? Greg and I got an advertisement for an REI sale, and their jogging strollers are 20 percent off. Now’s the time. Greg said we should run out to buy one, and I told him I was still skeptical. He flipped to the next page of the ad and saw something better.
“Or you could get one of these bike chariots,” he said, referring to the little wheeled carts to carry your kid behind your bike.
“Yeah, but I’d have to get a bike then,” I said.
“No, you could pull it behind you like a rickshaw!” he said, thrilled with his idea.
And I admit that this certainly would whip me into shape. But to hear this idea from a man? A man who hasn’t had to gain a single pound in the past year while I gained 40? A man who wouldn’t know a stretch mark if it punched him in the nose?
Yeah, Greg, let’s get that chariot. And you can pull Eleanor AND me.