The Family that Runs Together

Today, I assembled a jogging stroller, talked my wife into going for a run, and went for a 1-mile jaunt with my family for the first time. Spring cooperated by appearing out of nowhere for a few hours; a day meant to struggle to get out of the 40s leapt into the mid 50s, and it felt incredible. We had on a jean jacket over her all-day pajamas, and a knit hat on her head just to give any lingering cool air some respect. She danced her hands and feet, mimicking her mother and my antics running, quietly announcing that she wouldn’t be in the stroller all that long.

I was surprised how hard it was pushing the stroller, given how high-tech it is and all. When we turned it around to come home, my wife complained, too, and I remembered that the front brake had come crooked from the manufacturer. Sure enough, my initial efforts to fix it while assembling had been unsuccessful. The brake was rubbing, if lightly, just enough to avoid obvious detection but be surprisingly annoying. After a moment’s repair on the road, we flew home.