I mentioned that we ran to the beach on Saturday. We’d never been to the beach here in New York, so we were pretty excited about our first trip. M1 was especially looking forward to it, which made things a lot easier as we were getting him and M2 ready to go at 7:00 in the morning. It was a perfect run in just about every way. Good company, good conversation, good weather. The roads we ran on were tree-lined and not too busy. We didn’t have to push our way through swarms of people. I never once wondered how much longer we had to run or felt my legs grow tired. The miles past unnoticed and un-thought of, invisible. And the menchildren were happy to be along for the ride. M2 fell asleep for part of the way, but every now and then we’d look down and see that he’d grabbed his feet. I love it when babies do that. M1 soaked up the scenery, until we pointed out the street signs, and then he made sure we knew which avenue we were about to cross and told us which one he thought would be next. It’s pretty easy when they are named for the letters of the alphabet.

The 12 miles took us less than 2 hours. As we were on the homestretch, crossing the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge, I tried not to think too much about how far it was to the water below us, or about how fast the cars were going next to us. Bridges make me skittish. Even so, the view was lovely and I almost stopped to take a picture but I really just wanted to get to the other side. As I was trying to distract myself I thought, “I wonder if the boys are more comfortable in carseats or in the stroller?” And immediately this image came to mind:

And I realized that, yep, we’re totally the Flintstones. Running our car down the road. Barefoot. Ha!

Maybe we should change our cheer to Yabba dabba do!

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