I can see the appeal of a treadmill—truly. As the parent of a small human, I recognize the fact that the machine would make it so much easier to get in mileage when I’m the only adult in charge. But, I love running outside, no matter the season. So much so that I like to say “rain or sweat, you’re gonna get wet” to my running buddies who grumble about bad weather. Thus, I have resorted to the time honored methods of running with children: jogging stroller first, graduating to a bicycle.
My daughter is now 10 years old and growing like a sunflower—she can share shoes with her mother; make it stop!—but she’s still a little kid. That becomes shockingly clear every time we head out for a run together, her atop a bike with 24-inch wheels—she’s due for an upgrade very soon. Again, make it stop!
For example, today she was wobbling all over the lane of the road despite repeated shouts from me to get to the edge because a car was coming up on us. (More gray hair for me.) Later, she veered off the path and thundered over a pile of jagged rocks. (Immediate fear of being murdered by my wife should something happen to those teeth that have already undergone orthodontic work.)
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But it’s the car drivers that worry me most—not my own easily distracted kid. As the headline to this article gives away, we had a close call because some dumbass banged a U-turn. We were running on the side of the road facing traffic, approaching a stop sign at a T-shaped intersection of two fairly quiet residential streets. My daughter had gotten ahead of me a little bit, but she knows to stop at any street or alley. Just as she got close, the driver at the stop sign hammered the gas, his rack-and-pinion steering started screeching like a barn owl in mating season—he might want to have that looked at before the next state-mandated inspection.
I gave my daughter a warning shout and the driver caught sight of us as the car lurched around to about 8 o’clock, and we avoided any real catastrophe. For good measure, though, I unleashed a barrage of hand signals and curse words not fit for the eyes and ears of an elementary schooler. She stuck a little closer to my heels the rest of that 4-mile run, but didn’t let on if the incident truly rattled her.
I’m extremely cautious any time I’m on a road. In addition to running, I also like to ride motorcycles, so I’m on high alert to what other users of the roads are doing, always scanning for potential hazards. And I’m always pointing such things out to my daughter, so hopefully she, too, will learn to identify problems before they materialize and react in advance to avoid serious trouble. I understand it’s all part of the risk we accept as our little ones grow up, but running with her was far easier when I could push her in a stroller.
Am I The Only Runner Who Loves Jogging Strollers?
My daughter and I put thousands of miles on a Thule Chariot stroller—and the Chariot Cougar model, before that company was acquired by Thule. When we lived in Jersey City, New Jersey, it was our main mode of transportation as I pushed her a few miles to her babysitter in the morning and made the return trip to pick her up after work. We could have taken the car, but parking in the city is a pain, and I quickly realized I was getting in two runs a day in roughly the same amount of time it would have taken us to commute by other means. The stroller quickly because part of our identity, and here are some reasons why I loved it:
Long Runs: Yes, I’m one of those crazy people who would push a stroller for 15-20 miles. We started slowly, going on short runs starting when she was about 9 months old and gradually building up to marathon-training long runs by the age of 2 or 3 years. The key, I found, was to set out 30 minutes or so before nap time. Of course, I had to seek out relatively flat ground, but I could be moving uninterrupted for at least 90 minutes before she woke up. If you try this, be sure to bring a toy and some snacks, and be prepared to stop at the first playground you come across when she wakes up. After a few trips down the slides and some pushes on the swings, I was good for another 30 minutes of running back to the house.
Running Year Round: Some strollers are better in inclement weather than others. The Chariot I mentioned can be converted into a bike trailer and a cross-country ski rig, so it’s designed for multi-season use. One winter, we headed out just as a blizzard kicked up. My kid was bundled in a fleece onesie and wrapped in blankets—she was clammy when we got back from our 6 miles. It snowed so hard that we were actually plowing snow with the front of the stroller by the time we got back to our apartment. The only thing that stopped us was lightning.
Make it Fun: We had a game we’d play every morning on the way to the babysitter’s house—picking out our favorite color. On our route, there was a bridge over railroad tracks that had a wall painted with pastel colors arranged in a rainbow. We always stopped to point out what color we liked best that day. Later, we worked on directions: I let her dictate whether we turned left or right at an intersection. Eventually, I had to take the reins so we could get back home. The lesson is that stroller time can be fun and interactive. Don’t be a slave to your splits, don’t fret about running 30 seconds slower than you would without the rig.
A Bike Is Wonderful, But Brings Some Challenges
For as much as I loved pushing the stroller, I’m also kind of relieved that it’s been donated to another young family and I’m hands-free again. My daughter can easily keep up with me on two wheels, and probably gets annoyed that she has to wait for me occasionally. I love that she’s building independence and appreciates being on one of the best vehicles to get out and discover the world. But it brings no small amount of stress to me, which is kind of completely opposite to why I run in the first place:
Hills Build Fitness: No question, I want my kid to be outside riding, running, and playing—building her own love for physical activity. She enjoys riding the bike and, because we now live in an area that has a lot of hills, she’s truly getting in some exercise every time we go out.
Those hills, however, can be a pain. On this same run, she shouted “you’re going too fast,” as I gapped her a little bit on one of the steeper climbs along our route. There are a few hills nearby that I’ve had to give her a hand on the seat so we could make it to the top. That won’t always be the case, but it causes me to plot out less adventurous runs for us than if it was just me doing all the work (pushing the stroller).
We Are Traffic: I almost always stayed on the sidewalks when I was pushing the jogging stroller. But, with a kid on 24-inch wheels, the small sidewalks of Easton, Pennsylvania, aren’t the place you want to be riding—there’s little space to pass other pedestrians. So, we run and ride alongside parked cars quite a bit. I’m constantly reminding my daughter to look for car doors that are about to open, for trucks that might dart out of an alley, or for any number of other hazards she wouldn’t otherwise consider until she takes a drivers’ training course. I don’t really know if she’s listening to my constant chatter, though I suspect some amount of it is being absorbed. So, I’ll continue the reminders and quietly try to calm my own nerves every time a car driver does something stupid.
Fair-Weather Runners: By now, you should have the sense that I enjoy being out in conditions that would cause other runners to take a zero. But, now, I’m kind of in that camp, too. I can’t reasonably ask my daughter to suit up and pedal along with me in a snowstorm. Rain? We’ve done it once. She didn’t complain…too much. But it certainly wasn’t an enjoyable experience for either of us, even though it was a warm summer day. So, I’m forced to plan my running schedule around the weather forecast and my wife’s availability—please don’t suggest I hit the road at 5:30 a.m.! On this run when we nearly ate a front bumper, the thermometer read 93 degrees. We picked a shady route but still had to stop for water every mile or so—in the stroller, she could guzzle from the sippy cup without my help.
No Long Runs, Yet: Remember those tips for long runs with a stroller? Forget about it when you have a kid on a saddle. You’re not getting her out there for a two- or three-hour slog. We’ve done a 15-mile bike ride together, stopping for ice cream and exploring the area, but that’s far different than daddy’s sweat session. And if I were to drag her along for my selfish pursuit, she may grow to hate riding a bike. I don’t want that. So, I have to be more flexible with my schedule and run those solo.
No Turning Back
It’s been three years since we ran together with the jogging stroller. My daughter was 7 years old and, as the tallest kid in her grade, had her knees almost up to her chin—the Thule Chariot Cross has a huge cockpit! By that point, we’d been doing a few runs with the bike, too, but there were still some days we both wanted to get out and roll.
I’m still adjusting to her newfound freedom. And I don’t have the same experience she’s gaining because the roads I grew up riding while my own dad ran were desolate—she’s in a proper, if small, city. Someday, I’ll have to relinquish control and trust that she’s absorbed enough good sense to keep herself safe. I’m not quite ready for that just yet. But, there’s no going back to the stroller now, that’s for sure.
Jeff is Runner-in-Chief for Runner's World, guiding the brand's shoes and gear coverage. A true shoe dog, he's spent more than a decade testing and reviewing shoes. In 2017, he ran in 285 different pairs of shoes, including a streak of 257 days wearing a different model.
