Why I think running might be in your blood…
Dad and I run. That’s what we do. We might go through days without running, we might be really unfit at it at times, or a bit gatvol of it, but we do love it, and it’s a big part of what we do. When I was pregnant with you, I ran until around 28 weeks, when it become a bit too uncomfortable to carry on. I felt heavy, plus you poked on my bladder and therefore I need the loo every few minutes. I remember sometimes leaving home for a walk or run, stepping out the front door, and I didn’t even make it round the block before I was back home for the loo.
When it became too uncomfortable to run, I still walked almost every day until the day you were born.
A lot of peeps were a bit judgmental of me running, but I went slowly and cautiously, and we ran a few half marathons together and we were fine. I also felt that running and walking kept me fit, healthy and sane – I even managed to dodge Swine Flu when Dad caught it.
So when it came to your first outing in your jogger (with the paed’s approval), at three months, you loved it. You loved the motion and the speed (when Dad and I can muster up less than six minutes a kay with you), and were very comfortable and chilled being run with. It’s been great fun taking you along, plus your weight gives us the “excuse” to walk up hills (when in truth that has more to do with our lack of fitness). On our runs, you squeal, babble, laugh, drink milk, get ogled over. Sometimes you’re very quiet, and sometimes you fall asleep.
At some of our races together (three 10kms so far), people have offered to push, but have quit after a few minutes when they realise it’s harder than it looks. The most common joke we hear is “Can you push me” which has become quite lame after hearing it so often (though quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind being pushed up some hills). At one race, there was another couple pushing their baby in a jogger, who was double your age and looked about half your body weight. We chatted for a bit, then the mom of that baby said to her husband, “Come on babe, let’s race them”. I was irate – no one was going to beat my family, so we put foot and we left them to run in our dust. I’m sure if we go back to the site of those last three kays, we’ll find some tyre marks.
Now that you’re walking, once you’re loose, you actually run. The other day, we we jogging, and you moaned to get out the pram and move on your own. You weren’t satisfied to walk, so did a little totter/run, which lasted about a kay (you REFUSED to go back into the pram until you’d done enough tottering/running. When we’re in shopping centres and you insist on emancipation from your pram, you run away, keen to explore and see, and to get those legs moving. It seems you love running and moving, and you’re not that content to go at normal walk pace anymore. I don’t really know of any babies your age who do this, which is why I’m marking you down for Comrades 2030. I’ll be 40 (or whatever other fake age I’m calling myself then) and it’ll be cool. We can have the obligatory post-race Spur double burger, chips and milkshake, and feel changed forever when we finish.
But seriously now, if you don’t run, it’s okay, as I’ve said before. As long as you’re good and kind, and will bronze my medals and hand me sour gums during my runs 😉