A Story Behind Mommy Running?

It was a hot day. A ridiculously hot day. Unfortunately, around these parts, that does not narrow down the day, because it seems Kansas is taking the cake for absurdly hot summers. I grew up here, and I do not remember summers being as hot as the past three have been. Insert some argument about global warming/climate change here. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, I'm sure it's one of the ways God is telling us to hurry up and get the husband through graduate school so we can get the poo out of here.

Anyhoo, on this particularly hot day, I started with my usual routine of making whole wheat blender pancakes. These pancakes are seriously the most delicious pancakes you could imagine-- and I don't use a recipe. I did at one point, but now I'm lazy-- but I'll attempt to post it anyway.

1.5 cups whole wheat berries
2 cups milk (We use whole, because we're awesome.)

Throw in blender- blend for five-ish minutes.

Then, while it's still blending, I throw in:
1 t baking soda
5 t baking powder
1/3 C oil (We use coconut, because we're awesome.)
Dash of sugar (varies depending on my stress level)
Dash of salt (to taste-- husband likes a little more, I don't really notice if I forget it)
Splash of vanilla (I go crazy heavy with this stuff)
Optional: a few eggs (we forgot them once, and the pancakes turned out fantastically still-- so we usually fry them up on the side instead)

Blend thoroughly. Add some raw oatmeal if you want it a little chunky (husband likes this). Cook on a griddle. Bow down and offer gratitude for the goodness I have just shared with you. 

These are wonderful. And addictive. So on this particular morning, I ate about six pancakes that were each the size of my face, justifying it as carb loading before my five mile run. A few minutes after the last bite, I stashed the kids in the stroller and headed out the door.

The path I chose was one that essentially guaranteed we would see no cars-- a plus when pushing a couple children. It also is good for when the infant screams for the first two miles, because there are fewer people giving you dirty looks and judging your ability to parent your offspring. Speaking of which-- how the devil do I produce two children, with one BEGGING me to go running, and the second screaming his head off like I'm torturing him? He's gotten a bit better, but good grief.

Anyway, I pay dearly for the lack of automobiles. This particular route also is in blasting sunlight with about two square feet of shade the entire route.

No big deal... because I'm awesome, remember?

Except the plan was thwarted. The young child started screaming, and I decided to do the four mile route, only much faster than I had initially planned. I had to get the kid home-- the screaming was frying my nerves. I also felt awful for him, and prayed that he would eventually get to where he enjoyed being in the stroller. As I pushed the pace in the obscene heat, I felt the pancake stack churning in my stomach.

About a mile and a half from home, I pull the stroller to the grass on the side of the road, and was sick.

Feeling woozy, I weakly pushed the stroller back to the pavement. The last bit of my run was to the chorus of my two year old chanting,

"Mommy pee-yook? Mommy pee-yook?"

Yes. Mommy pee-yooked. Thanks, son.