Two Things Barefoot Runners Should Never Do

I now know there are two things we barefoot runners should never do:

1) Start a blog.

2) Involve your kids and then write about it.

The first one is pretty self-explanatory. Barefoot running is challenging enough. You try not to get injured, build up your mileage at a reasonable pace, and hope you don't get too comfortable with the feel of dog poop between your toes. Then you start to write about it on the world wide web and realize, 1) no one cares, and 2) your mom thinks you're in Amway (read this, seriously).

The second item, involving your kids and then writing about it, is a novice mistake. I should have known better. After this post, I intend to never write about my children again unless they either do something ridiculously funny or really piss me off. I'll draft something after breakfast.

Since I've already committed both sins, I might as well share the latest about my son, Alex. I wrote about his first barefoot run here and my attempt to get him out running with me in the snow here. I also told the camping pooping story here.

What I failed to realize when I wrote those posts was that Alex might actually one day read them himself. At eleven-years-old, he can read, I think. I see him looking at the pages, and his lips move, and every once in a while he will turn a page. Alex does go to school, but I've only ever heard him talk about recess, farting contests, and gym class, so I'm only assuming the reading part.

So last week while I was travelling, my lovely wife was perusing this blog to see what horrible things I had written about her. My son happened to come along and see what she was reading.

Then I got an email from him. Uh oh.

You see, my kids have never emailed me. When I'm travelling, I normally call Alex and his sister, Julia, on the phone to chat before they go to bed. No need to write. We talk pretty much every day.

Except this time, Alex felt he needed to make his point to dear ol' dad. Here's his email:


Dad,

Are you sure you want to be such a geek?

Well…you are one, but this blog of yours is kind of crapy.

Sincerely, alex!!!

When I called Alex on the phone that night, I asked him about school. He ignored me and said, "I'm going to send you an email, and you have to post it on your blog." I said, "It depends on what you write. It can't be crude or vulgar." He asked, "What does 'vulgar' mean?" I said, "You need to pay more attention in school."

Here's his second email, intended for everyone reading this blog (both of you):

Hi dad!



This is it!

I know you think like my dad told you I'm a party pooper.

But let me tell you this,

my dad is... well I think kind've overdoing this stuff with ,,barefoot

running'',now a conversation about this between

him and me looks like this:,,Hey dad. You writing about me pooping

when we were camping on the Internet kind've ticks

Me off. He says:,,Yeah well I have to wright something funny!'',wich I

don't think to be very pleased about.

You probaly think now that I am some pooping nerf gun freak

but that is not true, so gut me.


Alex.

I'm not exactly sure what he means by "so gut me" in that last line, but it can't be good. And he's kinda mixing up the German and English punctuation and word order, but at least he wrote a few words I understand. So maybe he won't need my help filling out the McDonald's employment application after all.

What's really scary is that he then spent one afternoon this weekend starting his own blog. The kid put it up with pictures and four or five posts in about an hour. It originally took me a whole week to figure out how to even use a blogging program. I expect within a week he will have figured out how to hack my blog and post that disturbing picture of me topless in the Lederhosen. Before I lost the beer gut.

So I promised Alex I would link to his blog if he let me tell the background. So, here it is. But be forewarned. It's a bit disturbing. Unless you're into nerf guns and blowing stuff up.

www.holeintheheadalex.blogspot.com

Alex, my son, I love you very much.

Dear friends: May your own children appreciate your sense of humor. Mine don't.

*Posted here at BRS and at www.runbarefooteurope.blogspot.com

Comments

thanks for sharing. i don't blog but my older daughter tells me i embarass them all the time. she's most embarassed that i wear my huaraches everywhere. teenagers.



mike
 
Mike - Embarrassing our kids is part of our job description. It's payback for all the diapers we changed.
 
Embarassing your kid is your right as a parent. I plan to do it with gusto once my daughter is a teenager.
 
saypay45 wrote:

Embarassing your kid is your right as a parent. I plan to do it with gusto once my daughter is a teenager.



My son does a 5 km fun run with his school ever year, last year I ran barefoot, minor embarrasement. This year I am bringing the kilt out too, should be a whole lot of fun.
 
I'm really looking forward to dropping my daughter off at a party in a few years and yelling out the window as she joins her friends to walk inside, "Sweetie, did you remember your training bra?" I got dozens like that. It's all in the planning.
 

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