Yesterday, I glanced at myself in the mirror as I headed out for my 6K run and thought “Girl, you’re looking good.” I was right. At this time of the year, and half-way through the summer holiday, I’m rested and my colour is great. Wearing shorts and a tank, my leg and arm muscles jumped out. It’s not about the run that matters but about how good I look. This was vanity at its best. Within seconds, though, that moment vanished as my three year old bounced up shouting, “Mommy, I’m ready to go for our run!” So, off we went – me on foot and him in the baby jogger.
In typical 3 year old fashion, he got excited about the garbage trucks that drove by. And, so did Mommy. Ohhh, maybe they’ll honk at me, I thought. Wait a minute! I’m pushing a flipping baby jogger. What guy in his right mind is going to honk at a mother?
Years ago, I remembered, truck drivers were always waving at me. In fact, not a day of running went by when there wasn’t a friendly hello. But that was years ago and in the big city. Here, in a small-town, people are much more conservative, I told myself.
Wait a second!! I use to get honked at here. But then reality clicked. I am now a mother, I have two children, I cannot just wear a jogbra and shorts anymore because I have two children (and scars to prove it); I must keep myself covered. Oh, how I miss those days of wanting complete strangers to see how good I looked.
Wow!! Somehow did honk at me! I haven’t lost it. Then, a young voice cried out, “Hello, Mrs. O’H.” Ah, one of the kids from school. They love seeing me run. I waved back, picked up my pace and was overtaken by another moment of vanity.