My Life as a Boob

Adventures in comedy, child-rearing and combinations thereof.

Dude, this is gonna be harder than I thought March 31, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — jennywynter @ 4:32 am
Tags: , , ,

Okay, so today officially marks day one of our training. Last week we deemed much more of a ‘warm up’ week, in which we would ease our way into our new regime, which is not only quite jam-packed to say the least, but requires a virtual Masters degree in time management, thanks to juggling three kidlets (one of them newborn) and virtually no babysitting.

So part of this, I thought, could work if I could simply find a way to fit some of my runs into my daily routine with the kids. This seemed a reasonable plan too: Little Miss Boob is already well into the whole idea and quite a little runner herself, we have a dog that needs to be walked so to up the pace seems just a bonus, we have a stroller for Littlest Boob which can just be pushed faster and in dire straits, used as a crutch to prevent collapse, and Little Master Boob can ride his bike ahead of us to set the pace.

Oh yes, in theory: grand.

In reality: first of all, the little issue of residue snow on the footpath. One thing I’ve never had to deal with in any of my 5-minute fitness crazes in Oz. The frustration this involved in both pushing the pram and riding the bike led to problem #2, specifically, Little Mister Boob deciding five minutes into our outing that he didn’t want to ride his bike at all, but indeed, wanted to RUN.

Yes, that’s right: run. He who trails behind us further and further on every family walk we ever embark upon, he who must be bribed into even completing said walk with the promise of hot chocolate and/or milkshakes (weather depending), he who could quite forseeably complete a PhD in dawdling…HE wants to RUN.

And so my delightful supermummy jog becomes an exercise in pushing the pram through chunks of snow, while trying to pull back the over-eager dog (who is now trying to catch up with the kids) and towing Little Master’s bike with my other arm, all while walking at a snail’s pace. Indeed, probably the only actual real exercise of value I got was my hamstrings stretching as I bent down to pick up after the dog.

This is the day that I realised: it’s not just the triathlon that’s gonna be a challenge. If I can actually get through my training plan in any given week, THAT is gonna be worth a freaking medal.

Bring it.


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