Youngest was kind enough to journey with me on my jog today. My plan was 30 minutes, about 3 miles. Youngest bikes; I run. As we head out, everything is going great. I'm 2 minutes into my run and Youngest lets loose. At 7 1/2 minutes I catch a cramp. I decided to walk it off, feeling like it was unbearable and I couldn't run through the pain. I started up running again a few minutes later and didn't get very far before my cramp returned and I returned to walking. On the last leg of the 30 minute circle I ran the final rest of the way. All in all it was 36 minutes total, a small little 15 minutes of which was running.
What in the world could have caused such poor running endurance? Youngest, riding along on his bike, in-between swerving and braking directly in front of me, sounded like this:
"Mom, I got stung by a bee today. Check my pinky finger (swerve). Look, I can ride with one hand. I should have brought water with me. I'll get some when I get back home. Are we crossing here? Why in the world would they plant poison ivy right here. Can you take this thing off my bike? Bball Girl should have come with us. Mom, why would that lady walk home in her bathing suit? Put a towel on! Today, at camp, my wiggly tooth was driving me crazy. See? (swerve). You're done running now? Oh, you're just taking a break. I'm going to ride ahead of you so you can see me. Actually, I'm going to ride behind you (swerve and brake) so I know which way we are going. What? The pool's open over here? I had no idea. Did you know that, mom? What's for dinner? I'm going to put some fruit in my water when I get back home. Will we watch the Olympics again tonight? Can you put my seat up on my bike? I'm way too big for this thing. Your done running again? Mom, did you know we had water day at camp today? Whoa, did you see that butterfly!?! That is an ugly dog. Is this the opening where we drive when we come from Walmart? Remember you said you would get me a sleeping bag next time we go to Walmart. Remember, you said that?"
Clearly he has no idea that it takes every ounce of my being to be out here doing this at all. Every drop of energy is being consumed with focusing on putting one step in front of the other. At 7 1/2 minutes in I caught that cramp. I am attributing that cramp to the motor that was running beside me. It's a gift. The Hub has the same gift. It's the gift of gab, and goodness knows, those that have it love to use it. There we are, I'm trying to get in the zone; Youngest is just being youngest. It was truly the Rookie Runner against the Severely Social. Anything he could think to talk about he talked about. Bless his heart, he can't even help it. It would be wrong for me to stifle his awesomeness. Funny enough, he hasn't yet matured to the adult phase that The Hub is stricken with. That would be the requirement of an answer to each question. That sweet Hub, he's mastered the need to end every thought (notice I didn't say question) with a "right?" or a "don't you think so" which requires the sweet listener that I am to respond. When no response comes, the question gets asked again. It's quite comical. As time has gone on, I've gotten quieter and The Hub has gotten louder.
In this case, if it were boxing I would be the one pinned up against the ropes taking my beating as if it was being handed to me like an old-fashioned butt whippin' from my mama. If it were badminton, I threw the match, if it were women's beach volleyball I was the Austrian sisters. And goodness, if it was the women's gymnastic team I was certainly the Russians sobbing on the side. The boy had me beat. I couldn't focus, I couldn't run. It literally took all my energy to run and absorb the stimuli he was exuding. I didn't have a choice, I couldn't tune him out and, and he sure wasn't going to stop. The hardest part had to be that he was making sense. It was just conversation and those social people like to do. It wasn't stream of consciousness, he was just observing and commenting on his world.
It's the dilemma of living with that very social person. The one who talks to complete strangers in public, as if they are old buddies. The one who is bold, confident and self-assured. It's the mini-The Hub. Youngest is for sure his father's child. The other three did not do a good job preparing me for this. Oldest, especially, being the other boy-child, is no comparison. This one is contemplating the world's problems out-loud, while Oldest was the one reflecting deeply inside and quietly playing with toy trucks on the floor beside me. Like night and day.
Although this run didn't go the way I had intended, I still exercised for 36 minutes. I was still running circles around those couch potatoes out there. Those are long, drawn out, slow-moving circles, but still circles. This here was round 1. I won't let Youngest and his inquisitive, incredibly social nature get the best of me. I'll take him on again. I'm not scurred. Without earplugs, even. With every experience we have to learn and improve. I get it. I got his number next time
As a side and final note, when I typed in "talkative" on google images to get a picture to go with this blog post, Kate Gosselin's face comes up. Now that is just plain funny.
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