A few weeks ago we took Carson out in our new bike-trailer (is there a better name for it?) that he got for his birthday from Gma and Gpa Tompkins. Of course we also had to get him a helmet, which he was not too sure about. (Can you blame him?) Of course, it didn’t help that both mommy and daddy pinched his skin the first time they clicked the chin strap. šŸ™
I decided that biking together (or should I say bicycling? Do I really need to clarify that we were not on Harleys wearing leather?) is good family exercise. The best option, really, at this point. Carson is no longer content to sit in a stroller, which is the only way we can walk fast enough for me to get my heart rate up at all. (Although he declared about 15 minutes into the ride that he was “all done,” he still lasted much longer than in a stroller.) And what I love about riding on a bike, as oppose to when I tried my “learn to be a runner” club last spring, is that I am not reminded with each step that I have given birth to a child and therefore need to concentrate continually on not wetting my pants. Too much info? Sorry. Most of the mommy readers will understand.
My favorite part about us riding together is that even with an older bike AND a trailer attached, Trent still rides much faster that I do. This fact was not lost on Carson, who kept yelling back to me: “Come ON, Mommy! Keep going!”
“I’m COMING, Carson! Tell your Daddy, Lance Armstrong, to slow down a bit!”