Jogging Stroller Rules

1. Okay, with the weight of 2 kids plus the stroller plus the stuff in it, I'm pushing about 50 pounds. That's gotta burn more calories than running without the stroller, or at least it feels that way when I'm going uphill (really feels that way), so, conclusion: I am awesome. Do not forget that as I struggle, huff, puff, and look like a total dork. Awesome.
2. Ignore any noises coming from the children that are not out-and-out screams or cries. Since they try to steal toys from each other about 4 times a second when they're side by side in the stroller, there's bound to be some complaining. Hey, it's a toddler jungle out there. They'll work it out.
3. The trick to making myself get started and keep going when it is cold and wet and I am coughing is to promise myself that I can reduce to a walk once I've reached the halfway point. It's still the same distance, and there's nothing wrong with walking. Once I actually reach that point, of course, I'll never slow down to a walk, I'll keep running, but it's completely necessary to have that promise in place.
4. Do not spit while running, no matter how much phlegm is there. Remember that I cannot spit properly. If I spit while running, it's just going to come out in one long stream that remains connected to my mouth rather than a nice discreet glob. That stream will then fall onto the front of my shirt. I'm enough of a dork already (but awesome), no need to add spit to my shirt to complete the image.
5. Proper toys will entertain the kids for about 5 minutes. Be sure to bring along lots of inappropriate non-toy objects like keys, cell phones, dynamite, etc. So they open somebody's garage remotely. So they make a call -- I've got the minutes. And it's not like I'm giving them matches.
6. Ignore the young, thin, fit women running approximately twice as fast as me. Ignore the fact that they're wearing running tights -- tights! -- an item of clothing I would never wear under any circumstances, because nature did not bless me with legs that can pull off running tights. They're in high school and college. They're literally half my age. Ignore them.
7. Ignore the folks easily 10 years older than me who are also running twice as fast as me. Whatever. They aren't pushing a double stroller. They didn't have twins, now did they. Who had twins? That's right, I did. I'm out there, I've got the twins, I've got the spit stain on the front of my shirt, nobody can match my awesomeness. Damn right.
8. Keep going for the last mile or two, the reward miles, the ones where everything is loose and flowing and I start to feel like I am strong, and capable, and I am going to get tenure damn it, who cares if I had twins, I've spent my life doing things I was told I couldn't do, and this is going to happen because I am going to make it happen, that's right. Nothing can stop me! I am unstoppable, spit stain and all!
9. If my knee starts hurting a lot, slow down to a walk immediately. No, seriously. Do it. I know I don't want to do it. Do it anyway. If I don't, it'll be that much longer to heal and everything will get messed up. And wasn't I supposed to make that doctor's appointment anyway? (I am very bad at following this rule).
10. When we're back at home and I'm doing post-run sit-ups and Nora decides to use that opportunity to practice her sitting by sitting on my chest, don't laugh too much or else she'll start laughing herself and then bounce up and down vigorously on my chest, doing the baby version of CPR on me, which is uncomfortable.