Today, for the first time since I began running, I ran without a watch. I’m compulsive about timing my runs. I even have a back-up watch just in case I can’t find my running watch. I’ve been known to get dressed to go running, realize I can’t find my watch, and decide to skip the run.
But today my baby was fussy. I got him ready, got me ready, put the final touches on getting him ready, strapped him in the car seat and lugged him out to the car to get the stroller (I was going to say I “dashed” out to the car, but no one dashes when they’re carrying a car seat.)
David was strapped in the stroller and ready to go when I reached to my wrist to start the timer and I realized I didn’t have my watch. I looked at him. Looked at the front door. Looked at the street stretched before me. I made a decision. I took off…watch-less.
Coincidentally, David decided to stay awake for the entire run. He’s never done that before. He usually looks around, takes in the view, LOLs at mommy huffing and puffing…and then falls asleep.
Not this time.
Nope, I got to look at these baby blues the whole.
He grunted every now and then, as if HE was the one running.
He was, as parents like to say, “on the edge.” I felt like I was in the mommy version of the movie Speed except, instead of a bus, I was pushing a stroller that would explode if I slowed down.
The situation had an interesting effect. You see, I ran a lot faster.
It’s the same way I’ve manage to set a new record in speed-showering, earned a gold medal in eating dinner and am the world champion at going to the bathroom.
There’s no way to know exactly how fast I was running, though.
Because on this particular run, wouldntcha know, I forgot my watch.