stands for: “Not So High Intensity Mom Interval Training” (not to be confused with H.I.I.T).
Oh, you’ve never heard of it? It goes a little something like this:
Lug folded double stroller (the one promised to fit through a doorway that doesn’t even fit through the very large sliding glass door) outside while simultaneously waving free arm to push back a dog from escaping and a 1 year old from toddling right down the back stairs.
Pick up 1 year old, millimeters from the edge of first stair, place on left hip.
Yell to 3 year old to get out of the driveway until he puts his pants on, and where are his shoes?
Grab dog by collar with free right hand and coerce him into his crate with a treat.
Assemble stroller. Doesn’t work with one hand, so set the 1 year old down. Assemble quickly, or he will put one of many, many mysterious pieces of “nature” into his mouth.
Strap wiggling 1 year old into his side of the stroller. Put his left sock on. Put his right sock on. Put the left sock on again, as he took it off while you were putting right sock on.
Dress 3 year old, now standing on the back porch pant-less, (oh I can hear the neighbors now!) while he babbles on about the adventures of Diesel 10 and how if we see him on our run, Iron Arry and Bert will protect us.
Search for Iron Arry and Bert, as toddler has now realized they MUST come with us.
Strap toddler into his side of the stroller.
Grab cell phone, water bottle, pacifier, sippy cup, and the kitchen sink.
Warmed up? Good. Now it’s time to start the N.S.H.I.M.I.T.
Run about 200 yards.
Stop to view the giant inflatable Snoopy (dressed as Santa) and Woodstock adorning the neighbors yard.
Run another 200 yards.
Pick up tossed pacifier.
Jump into neighbors yard as dude in very large pick up truck speeds by, completely unaware of you and your massive, bright yellow jog stroller.
Stop and see the neighbors kitty. Convince 3 year old that no, kitty does NOT want to come with us for our run.
See actual leaves that have fallen off trees. Reminds you of New England (only not nearly so pretty) so you stop and take a picture with your phone.
1 year old starts crying. Stop and hand him his toy.
Run 4 feet.
Stop and pick up said toy from the road.
Run 10 feet.
1 year old starts crying again. Cave in and give him your blackberry, with keyboard locked to prevent any calls to the Philippines or Siberia. What toddler doesn’t love expensive technology with lots of buttons?
Run 6 feet.
Stop and retrieve phone, that was tossed with much more force at the pavement than you ever expected a 1 year old to have.
1 year old: cry cry cry
3 year old: “I’m bored, can we go home now?”
1 year old: cry cry cry
Stop. pull both sunshades back so 1 year old can see 3 year old. One year old stops crying.
3 year old: “It’s too sunny out, put my shade back” as he yanks it down. Um, it’s completely overcast.
1 year old: cry cry cry.
Stop, convince 3 year old that 1 year old misses his brother, and he should keep his shade up so they can see each other. Convincing works, 3 year old’s love to feel the center of attention.
MOM LOOK AT THAT SQUIRREL STTOOOOP!
Stop. pick up accidental sippy cup casualty.
Run. Keep running. Still running. Man this feels great doesn’t it? Man I could go all day at this pa…”LOOK MA, We’re hoooome ALREADY!! let’s get out NOW!”
Stop. Look at Garmin. Laugh when you see 2.08 miles took you 21 minutes (including all stops).
Cool Down: Repeat Warm up, only backwards, and twice as fast, because 3 year old “has to potty NOOOOWW!!!” Don’t forget to retrieve all odds and ends from the stroller, or you will more than likely trip on one of them while hauling the load up the stairs.
And that, my friends, is “not so high intensity mom interval training”. And don’t forget to smile, because 2 very slow, very broken up miles are better than no miles at all!!
“I’ve never regretted going for a run, but I have regretted skipping one.” –Chris Beck