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2003-07-25

When I was in New York a few weeks back, I ran several long blocks in an attempt to make a train. Aside from the fact that I ultimately missed the train--by moments, it was still on the platform when I arrived, doors already closed, utterly indifferent to my pounding and wailing--it was an exhilarating experience physically. I exercise most evenings, using the variety of contraptions squeezed into our not-so-large house (Bowflex, WalkFit non-motorized treadmill thing, recumbent bicycle) but rarely push myself to break any serious sweat. My NYC jaunt left me thinking maybe it would be interesting to try to run, or jog, or whatever. Then I remembered that I live in a place where the summers are long and hot and humid, and quickly dismissed that idea.

Until Clay started waking at the ungodly hour of six o'clock, when it's actually somewhat pleasant outside. Three times now (Saturday, Monday, Thursday) I've strapped the kid into the jogging stroller and taken off down our gravel driveway to our gravel road and locomoted the two of us for 30 or so minutes, running/jogging/whatever-ing as much as possible and walking the rest of the time. The doing of it is not horribly unpleasant and the aftermath--a kind of virtuous haze, knowing I'm off the exercise hook for the rest of the day--is fabulous. And I certainly wouldn't mind if it contributed to my losing a little weight. So maybe I'll keep this up.

One thing I've learned about life with a kid around is that you have to keep updating your routines. I'm a creature of habit, kind of a serial monogamist when it comes to daily life. I'll eat the same breakfast every day for six or nine months and then move on to something else. (Lately it's been an enormous smoothie of homemade yogurt and frozen fruit followed by half of a gigantic low-carb bagel topped with cream cheese, lox, and sliced grape tomatoes.)

A kid's steady development (not to mention changes in weather and daylight hours) means that what worked the month before last doesn't work anymore. For a while there, Clay loved sitting on the kitchen counter while I chopped vegetables for dinner. I'd give him an Akmak cracker ("crack-a?") and a little cup of ice water and he'd be in heaven. No longer. The newest engaging early evening activity for him is sitting in the driver's seat of my car, playing with the steering wheel and cell phone and various levers. (When I head off to work the next morning, the windshield wipers are invariably on.)

All this to say that it's anyone's guess how long this early morning hitting the road thing will continue to be viable but at the moment it's pretty cool.

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