Day 1

Sure enough, my son woke up around 9:15. He managed to sleep through the night, surviving a scare when my wife left for work and the dogs opted to inform the entire neighborhood. I got him dressed right away [which is odd for me- I usually keep him in his pajamas until after his lunch (read: mess)] and took him downstairs for breakfast. (Note: I will spare you these details in the future, as most mornings will likely have little variation.)

Breakfast for my son consists of a bottle of whole milk and a breakfast bar. He is rather fond of the apple cinnamon cereal bar made by Gerber. That is to say, I think he likes them. He hasn't told me otherwise.

Wednesday is trash day. Having worked at the previous night's Phillies game, I didn't get a chance to take out the garbage cans in the evening. My son walked over to the front door and watched as I quickly rolled three containers-full of  diapers and Land of Nod catalogs out to our rounded curb and returned just in time to find that he had squashed his breakfast beyond recognition. Our dogs, one a border collie/ cocker spaniel mix and the other a lab mix of some sort, were the benefactors of my son's destruction, as I split the remains of the bar into their respective breakfast bowls. They, too, didn't complain.

The day's schedule included an 8-mile training run and lunch with Mommy during the day and studio time in the evening. I had hoped to get the run in before lunch, but my son's reluctance to finish his bottle made that impossible. Instead we curled up on the carpet and watched the most recent episode of one of my favorite dumb shows of the moment, SyFy's Warehouse 13. The episode veered from the standard monster/ artifact of the week formula and actually provided some character development for a change. My son didn't want to talk about it, but I know he noticed.

Soon after the show ended, Mommy arrived home from her first day of work for lunch. She explained that she had "a moment" when she discovered some Cheerios our son placed in her school bag. We had always heard stories like this from our friends: how heartswelling/ breaking it is to find the little things their children leave for them in their briefcases, etc. He wasn't old enough during last school year for me to experience this, but I'm sure I'll know some day. Despite this grainy gift, she managed to make it through her first few hours of work without crying. We all left the house after lunch- my wife to work, my son and I to a nearby trail.

My son has been a great training partner. We use the Jeep Liberty stroller, which apparently is not intended for use as a jogger, but works great on both trails and sidewalks. We were the only father/ son team on the trail today; in fact, we are usually the only father/ son team on the trail. We are generally joined on the trail by retired couples, mommies and their babies, and the occasional cross country team. Today was no different. My son fell asleep roughly two miles into my run, but some bumps on the trail startled him, so I slowed down to a brisk walking pace in order to let him sleep. This was a bit of a blessing in disguise because I'm fairly certain I have a few broken bones (as well as diagnosed tendinosis) in my left foot, and I didn't want to push too hard today because I was not wearing my normal running shoes.

I have been wearing various varities of Vibram Five Fingers for the past couple of years. Last year I ran the Philadelphia Marathon in pair of Bikila, and this year I am running the Steamtown Marathon in a pair of Bikila LS (because just one would be far too painful). I injured my left foot last year on a rugged trail run, and I don't think it ever fully healed. The hundreds of miles I have put on my feet in concert with the lack of support these shoes offer have contributed to a fair amount of foot pain. However, before I started wearing Five Fingers, I had so much pain in my right knee, I was physically unable to run. A broken bone or two is a small tradeoff for actually being able to run!

He woke up around mile 4, and after a short sippy cup break, I (we?) ran the rest of the way. We returned home, and we each refreshed with a cool beverage. While I drank my red Gatorade and he drank his afternoon milk, he pointed over to my bottle to let me know that we were doing the same thing.  It was easily one of the three most adorable things I had seen all day.

Before I knew it, my wife returned from work, and my first day home from work was complete. She wanted nothing more than to play with him, and I finally got to shower around 4 o'clock in the afternoon. 1 day down, 180+ to go!