Wan Tan Baby

So today was my first run with the new baby jogging stroller. His name is Bob and he and I became fast friends this evening as we hit the pavement together. Aside from the fact that I felt like I accidentally ate cement for breakfast in this new post-baby phase, it was a relatively good jog overall.

Lucy and I decided to literally "run" to Fed Ex to get a package out tonight before the 6pm pick- up. It was perfect weather outside and Bob even had a sun shade to protect the little Love Bug from the afternoon rays.

I pretty much felt like a star with my new stroller and sweet Lucy looked like a Princess in her blue and chocolate chariot of fire. Too bad I had to be the fire.

The journey to Fed Ex was primarily downhill. It was so easy to push the Princess down the sidewalks, not minding the cracks or uneven pavement thanks to Bob's hefty off-road tires. The breeze was blowing through our hair and I couldn't think of a more perfect outing with my little Bundle. She was calmly lulled to sleep by the sounds of oncoming traffic, rowdy teenagers, barking neighborhood dogs, and the occasional "show off" motorcycle punk. Aah, the delightful sounds of Salt Lake City.

The package was delivered with ease, but the way back was a totally different story. For some reason I forgot my 8th grade lesson of Mr. Newton and his brilliant discovery that what comes down also must go up. The first part of the return wasn't too bad. We made it up the small first hill and although my jog was pretty slow, I felt proud to still be jogging.

The second hill was a little worse. When Mr. Chinese walker in "way-too-short-little-white- shorts" passed us, I realized my jog was paralyzingly too slow. There was no shame in walking the hills, I thought. I mean, I just had a baby and I'm barely back on the road. Right? Sure. So...we walked. I started to get a little warm at this point. Not because I was out of shape. Never. The, uh, shade obviously shifted and I was surely in the direct line of the solarized ozone beam or something equally as treacherous.

I wiped the bead of perspiration (not sweat, of course) from my brow and shortly resumed my pace, passing Mr. Short Shorts like he was a spelling test in the third grade. Cake.

Then I saw it. The final hill around Sugarhouse Park. The beast! I knew, even in my best visualization and positive self-affirmation, I couldn't run it if I tried. I gulped and wondered if we would all even make it to the summit. I focused on the goal, took a deep breath, and began the ascent.

All of a sudden, I felt like I was in slow motion. In a flicker of reality, I caught a glimpse of the sticker on Bob's back that said "weight: 23.6 lbs." With a deep breath my eyes darted to and fro, only to notice the sticker on the car seat "weight: 7.24 lbs." Now, sweet Lucy wouldn't want me to say this out loud, but all she really does is eat all day... Doing the math in my head, it started to dawn on me why I was trekking so slowly up this 42 lb. hill! To make matters worse, Mr. Chinese waddled past me with a little "hmph" in his sweet and sour step.

That's when I realized I could have taken him easily if it was dark and we were alone on that mountain. Just me and Chinese. But not this time. As he whizzed past me in a blur of gym socks pulled up higher than I dared to look, I faked a smile and huffed, "baby weighs wan tan..." Sure, it was an excuse. And a good one at that. He looked at me, then at Bob and the sleeping Princess, and nodded like possibly, just maybe, he might give me another shot. Thank you Danielsan. Next time I stick to catching fry wis chopstick an placticing mo wa-king fasta fasta.