Robbie talks about running all the time.  He loves it, especially when I’m running late in the morning and just need him to get into the car.  So, of course, he would love a little family run.  Right?  No.

Last week, I wrangled up Justin and Robbie for our first ever family fun run.  Robbie put on his gym pants and found the perfect running shirt (bright yellow, with “shockers” and a yellow jacket on the front; you know, classy).  And then refused to even walk to the park.  He had to be carried the entire way.

When we got there, Robbie got into the spirit and took off around the pond.  He ran, pointing out the way he wanted us to go.  Eventually, we found our way up a pretty steep trail, which required the cherub to slow down for a few minutes.  As soon as he made his way to the top, he was off again, looking for new trails and hills to run down.

Robbie ran about a mile and a half that day, which was pretty impressive for a two-and-a-half year old.  Given that it was 73 degrees this afternoon, I figured that he and I would have a fun little run to the park again today.  We spent twenty minutes finding the right running clothes.  He settled on some too-small gym pants but refused to wear anything other than his shockers t-shirt; we eventually found it in the dryer.

Now that he had on the appropriate running gear, we were off to the park.  Except we weren’t.  He wanted to go the other way.  Then he wanted to be held.  Then he wanted to go home.  So, not a true glutton for punishment, we went home.  As soon as we walked in the door?  Robbie told me he wanted to go to the park…