As a running mom I have done a number of ridiculous things. I’ve run with a jogger stroller or a double stroller, stopping mid-run to swing or slide at the playground. I’ve trained and raced while breastfeeding (not at the same time).  Often I wake in the early morning hours to squeeze in a workout.  My post-run routine usually includes packing lunches, and my breakfast is the carrots or apples required in each lunch bag. However, there is something I haven’t done, or rather stopped doing – I did not run during my pregnancies.

Recently, I saw it in a magazine again. “She ran through each pregnancy.”  “She ran until the day before she delivered.”   On and on and on; the magazines seem to overflow with women who didn’t skip a beat while expecting. But not me; I skipped a lot of beats while pregnant.

As a little background, I have had six babies in thirteen years which means I have had a lot of time to think about my decision.  I did have one glorious pregnancy when I ran until I was six months pregnant and power-walked my way into labor, but after that nothing was easy while expecting.  Don’t get me wrong; I don’t blame the running for my subsequent gestational problems, most of the time.  Each pregnancy would start with a vow to stay active, but then the problems would start and I would be advised to “take it easy,” “limit your activity,” or “just do less.”  I’m not preaching that no woman should run while pregnant. I’m just saying that sometimes you don’t, and that’s okay.

I didn’t learn this lesson with grace or ease.  Once while describing a concern I had after a short bike ride, my perinatologist (not the run-of-the-mill OB, but a specialist for high risk pregnancies) disapprovingly glanced up from the ultrasound and said, “You probably shouldn’t do that anymore.”

Nevertheless, I have learned something about patience and investment.  So many times in my pregnancies, I had no control of our fate, mine and my little passenger.  I have read the different articles arguing whether limiting your activity helps a pregnancy succeed, but running was one facet of my life that I could control and sacrifice for each child.  As one doctor told me, it was better to err on the side of caution.  Slowly, I have learned that in the end, it’s only six or seven months of my life.  Running waits for you, the stroller is there and your shoes still fit.

Jennie after her race with Steve and the newest Bohrer

Family is about investing time, energy, and love.  Pregnancy is the beginning of that investment and sometimes it requires a bigger commitment than we planned.  But after six kids, I know they are worth it.

As I came out of my six-week post-baby appointment, I saw a flyer on the receptionist’s desk for a Thanksgiving Day run my obstetrician was sponsoring.  Right then I told myself I was going to run that race- next year.  So this Thanksgiving, I slipped the turkey into the oven and lined up for the 10K.  Then, I came home, scooped the baby up in my arms, and started cooking. Did I mention I was hosting Thanksgiving?  Just another day in the life of a running mom.

-Jennie Bohrer

I love taking our kids sledding, but alas, as with so many other things, People seem to mar the experience. Basically, it comes down to Steve’s First Rule of Sledding – DON’T WALK ON THE SLED RUNS!!!! It creates a bunch of icy, bumpy, speed-sapping holes in the run; it delays the person waiting at the top for his turn; and it will eventually lead to a high-speed collision. Instead, uphill traffic should create and follow their own uptrack. It’s faster, safer, and more fun for everyone. Why can’t people see that?

Almost as irritating are the “jumps” people make. If you’re going to build that kicker, make an effort to do it right. We’ve all been entertained by videos of sledders getting flipped onto their heads. Watching someone else suffer a possible life-long spinal injury is hilarious. It’s not so funny when it’s you or one of your kids. Avoid the giant speed bump shape. Instead, follow Steve’s Second Rule: Use an actual shovel to build a gradual incline that drops steeply on the downhill side. And make sure the landing site is still on the hill, not on the flats. The kiddos will still get some nice air without the flips.

At first, I thought I was being a Scrooge, taking a simple, carefree childhood activity and burdening it with rules. Then on a whim, I Googled “sledding rules”. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at the number of hits of actual regulations and guidelines for sledding on municipal hills around the country. For example:

• Sled in a SITTING position only
• Building jumps or ramps is not allowed
• Sledding is allowed in designated area only, and only during daylight hours.  If the hill is posted as CLOSED, then sledding is prohibited due to weather / surface conditions
• No “surfing”, skiing, or snowboarding
• Choose a hill that has a gentle slope and that is free of obstacles such as trees, signs, fences, rocks, river, parked or moving vehicles, railway track, and holes or jumps
• Tuck in any scarves, strings, or long hats that could potentially catch on a rock or tree and cause strangulation or other serious inures
• Wear a properly fitted ski or hockey helmet to protect against brain injuries
• Avoid inner tubes, crazy carpets, flying saucers, garbage bags and cardboard boxes- they are difficult to control

My first thought was to credit these rules to a lawsuit or the fear of a lawsuit. On the other hand, there’s no question that sledding is an inherently hazardous activity. I’ve seen serious injuries occur during sledding activities over the years, many which could have been avoided through the application of a little common sense. As they say, though, common sense isn’t all that common. If posting rules results in fewer injuries is that such a bad thing? I can understand the desire to lower the risk through the use of rules, but what does that do to the adventurous spirit of the rising generation?

The issues behind these questions run much deeper in our society than simply sliding down a snowy hill. My kids don’t care about issues, they just want to go sledding. I say, have a good time and use your head. And if you want some rules to follow, you can’t go wrong with mine.

-Steve Bohrer

After observing Caleb on an earlier hike, I devised an experiment for this trip. Caleb is a strong hiker — when he wants to be. He starts with a grumble and ends at a dead run. I just needed to find a way to distract or motivate him at the beginning of the hike.

Normally, I’m not a fan of electronic entertainment in the mountains. I’ll admit I’ve done long trail runs with my MP3 player. Music can, at times, be a powerful motivator and distraction from burning lungs, but in general, I think ear buds and circuitry interfere with one of the prime reasons for doing the trip in the first place – the ability to escape from a world of noise and look inside yourself for answers to life’s questions and the problems at hand. With our three-day Sawtooth trip, I didn’t need to worry about my kids missing out on the outdoor experience, so I figured, “Why not – let’s try some music.” They all listened to music at the beginning of the hike and started strong, as hypothesized. My kids favor soundtracks – Jack Johnson’s Curious George album, Pirates of the Caribbean and Kung Fu Panda. My hypothesis began to loose credibility when no one showed much interest in musical distraction at other difficult sections. In fact, they didn’t listen much at all, even when I strongly encouraged it. I know I was ready to confiscate someone’s music to dull the pain of carrying three packs. So I guess the jury is still out on the effectiveness of music listening for my kids.

What are your tips for motivating your children through the difficult portions of your family’s outdoor adventures?

Postscript:

At the suggestion of a friend, we stopped for ice cream on the way home in the small town of Challis. Actually, it was fortunate the hotel café served ice cream because this friend was actually thinking of an ice cream shop in Ketchum, a hundred miles away in the opposite direction. Two TVs blared “The T.O. Show” as we sat in air-conditioned comfort waiting for our dessert. My boys, who don’t watch much TV and definitely don’t know who T.O. is, stared at this ridiculous show like rapt little zombies. Ah, civilization.

-Steve Bohrer

First off, this post contains absolutely no technical information that would take the place of actual climbing instruction and experience. Now, here are a few ideas that have worked for us over the years:

• Crashpads. If you can handle the extra bulk, a crashpad is the climbing parent’s best friend. Many times a kid suddenly loses interest 7 or 8 feet off the ground. This can be frustrating when you just spent 10 minutes on shoes, harness, and tying in. Bouldering is a great alternative to climbing routes with kids. The crashpad has tons of alternative uses too. It’s a comfortable place for a kids and parents out of the dirt, a perfect napping mattress, a handy emergency umbrella, and an alternative to lawn chairs at soccer games or neighborhood parties.

• 

  Friends are key. A big group is the antidote to short attention spans.

  Friends. We all climb better in front of our friends. Having a friend to play with also makes the time between routes less tedious. And if you bring along the friend’s parent(s) you may actually get in some hard climbing.

• Realistic expectations. For you and your kids. Your kid will probably not be the next Chris Sharma. You’re developing a love of climbing and the outdoors, not producing the next phenom. Don’t expect to climb at your limit when you’re out with the kids. Both the climber and the belayer will likely be slightly distracted by roaming/crying children.

• Be competent. Make sure you’re proficient at whatever you plan for your kids. For example, you may never have needed to lower a partner with a Reverso. But if you’re going to belay your kids from the top of a climb, you’d better know how it works because Murphy’s Law applies to climbing with kids. I can’t stress this enough. Work through potential scenarios and have a plan ahead of time.

• Embrace the epic. As a parent, you have a distinct advantage here. It’s all about attitude, and you’re a pro. Say you’re caught in an incredible lightning storm at Wild Iris (elevation 9000 ft.), huddled under an overhang with 20 other climbers. Your car (and jackets) are a mile away across an exposed, tree-less ridge. Your son is shirtless because your youngest daughter dumped a liter of Gatorade on herself. You, the outdoor parent, can smile knowing that you’ve handled worse.

Most importantly, it’s important to realize that other climbing parents are out there. We’re all having similar joys and struggles. Sharing experiences helps us to stay psyched when a trip doesn’t go so well. If you have any tips that have worked for you, let us know in the comment section.

The guide was really talking to me, hoping I’d overhear his vast store of outdoor wisdom. I ignored him and kept belaying Nate’s 10-year-old son as he skated, thrashed, and hung his way his first climb – a, steeper, reachy 5.7.

I’ll give Mr. Know-it-all a little credit. He was exactly right – if the beginner is an adult or older teen, but young kids are, in general, totally different. Climbing with kids — or for that matter, any outdoor sport with kids — is an entirely different beast. The standard logic doesn’t always apply.

While Nate’s son thrashed, lunged and smiled, I strolled through the years of top ropes, successes and miscues. I knew a bit about climbing. Even more about kids. While the guide rambled on, I formulated my own list of hard-earned truths.

1. Technically speaking, there is such a thing as too easy.

The guide’s heart was in the right place – we do want our kids to succeed – but sometimes the easiest climbs make for climbing parent headaches. On low angle, easy slabs, a good length of rope comes in contact with a fair bit of granite. This creates friction. You wouldn’t notice if you were lowering a 200-pound man. A 120-pound teenager probably wouldn’t be an issue, but good luck lowering a 40-pound youngster down that low-angle slab, especially with the fuzzy old rope you keep around for setting up topropes. The kid has to cooperate and actively move down. If they don’t want to move, you’ll need someone to fetch them.

I’d set up topropes on the very slab the guide referred to and it almost always turned out to be a problem. More often than not, I would end up scrambling up, grabbing the back of the kid’s harness, and lowering both of us back to the ground. No matter what the route looks like, it’s a good idea to do a practice lower before the climber gets out of easy reach. You find out if the kid is going to freak out, it gives him some confidence close to safety of the ground, and you make sure the rope feeds smoothly. But, it’s not uncommon for the kid to freeze up anyway, and in that case, steeper is definitely better.

2. More is more.

What are we drawn to as climbers? Steep cliffs and big faces. It’s every climber’s basic instinct. A 10-year-old boy isn’t any different.

Going big. Sometimes success means failing spectacularly.

In all likelihood, 10-year-olds are scrambling up steeper stuff while waiting their turn to climb. When they get on a rope, they don’t want to climb some “baby” slab. Most kids, especially boys, would rather fail spectacularly than succeed easily. There is no harm in picking a climb that inspires a child, rather than choosing a climb you are certain they will scramble up. We enjoy climbing because it is a challenge. When it comes to your kids, you want it to be more challenging than the latest video game release.

3. Redefine success because your kids already have.

Let go of the “rules” we climb by and look at it from a kid’s perspective. Making it to the top often isn’t a priority. In their mind there is no stigma to hanging on the rope. Danging and swinging are just as fun as climbing – it’s a little like being a pirate. I routinely “boost” my kids to encourage them when they’re stuck. Of course don’t ignore basic safety rules. They should wear helmets, keep their fingers out of bolt hangers, stay out from under other climbers, etc. The idea is to first develop an enjoyment of the sport. Technique and convention can come later. So while an adult might be frustrated by not making upward progress, Nate’s son was having a great time.

Stay tuned, in the next post we’ll share some tips that have actually worked for us.

– Steve Bohrer

In life, there are problems that are so distant and so huge that they can seem impossible to solve. I mean, what can a kid from Kansas do to help penguins in the Antarctic or African children enduring starvation due to drought? Yet these problems when seen on the nightly news still make an impression on young minds. As adults, do we just say “That’s life?”

Big problems may require big solutions, but those big solutions are founded in thousands of small fixes piled together. There is something our kids can do. Put them to work. Give them an outlet for making a difference. Make lemonade.

Write down this equation: Well-placed lemonade stand + Poster board marketing + Charitable organization to send money to + Temperatures >90˚= Bank.

As a seven-year-old, the plight of Ethiopian children left me sick to my stomach. On my own, I created a lemonade stand and set it up on a hot Sunday morning right down the corner from the local church. In two hours, I raised $124, which seemed like a veritable fortune in my mind. I couldn’t figure out why people were handing me five-dollar bills for a 50-cent cup of lemonade and then refusing change. Two days later, my mom helped me ship that money off to UNICEF. I felt empowered. I still cringed when scenes of famine appeared on Dan Rather’s nightly news report, but I also knew that I was capable of doing something about it.

As a parent, you’ll have to invest some time. Lemons grow on trees, but lemonade stands don’t. If your child comes to you concerned about certain issues, help them find an organization that works on the issue. Try to find stories about people who chose to get involved. In the long run, you’ll help foster imagination and life goals in your children.

You're not 'not' pregnant. This actually the Earth Day Flag, which apparently they poached from a home pregnancy test

If you want to take the lemonade fundraiser one step further (probably best for a slightly older kid), give your local bank branch a call. Most bank managers have a small slush fund for charitable community acts. Tell them about your child’s efforts. There’s a good chance they’ll be able to match the dollar amount your child raised. I remember on a later lemonade charity campaign, my mom (who I’m sure organized it ahead of time) dragged my brother and me into our local bank. We sat at a gleaming, polished oak desk across from a man in a suit. He shook our hands, thanked us for our efforts and then he signed a check doubling the money we had made. My mom took us out for milkshakes. I looked at her wide-eyed about what had just happened. “If you do good things, people in your community will come forward to support your efforts,” she said. It stuck.

They say that people who are experts at any particular activity are not necessarily the best teachers. I try very hard not to listen to “they” because often “they” are wrong. While I don’t consider myself an expert skier, I am an experienced ski patroller at a little ski area in southeastern Indiana. I know a thing or two about turns. I have skied for nearly 25 years and patrolled for 8 years. I’ve stolen as much winter from southern Indiana and Ohio as humanly possible.

Barreling down a powdery steep carving huge GS turns is more than an experience. It’s an emotion akin to raw joy. Like many parents who ski, I wanted to pass my passion on to my children. I decided I would teach my kids to ski. I was self taught. Under my direction, I’d have them ripping turns in no time. I’ve seen the little ski whizzes buzzing down the black diamonds, no problem…

Year One:

I purchased a little pair of used K2s and a littler pair of used Rossignols for my daughters, four-year-old Sam and two-year-old Kit. Year one was exhausting, yet fun. My wife, Richelle, took one child and I took the other. Skiing consisted of mom and dad holding up a floppy, limp kid while we did our best not to crash. We got out three or four times when I wasn’t on shift for patrol. It was a healthy taste of skiing for all; year one was successful.

Year Two:

Richelle was pregnant. I have known patrollers who skied while pregnant, but my wife would not take that chance. I certainly don’t blame her. Sam and I went out a few times, but in all honesty, she did not progress. Wedge turns were still hard. If she felt like she was moving too fast, she would sit down. I found myself getting frustrated, and yelling, “Turn, turn, TURN!” The command fell on deaf ears. Unfortunately, Kit didn’t get out at all that year. Needless to say, the season was full of unmet expectations.

Last Year:

By late fall, we all had skiing on our minds. The girls kept asking about it. I was thinking about equipment. Do these feet ever stop growing?

“No you can’t switch to snowboarding! I am not buying all new used stuff!” I cried when Sam discussed switching to snow boarding. No offense boarders, but snowboarding was the worst 45 minutes of my life. I would feel totally inadequate as an instructor.

Then an email graced my inbox: “Andy, are you signing the girls up for lessons this year? I am planning on signing my girls up for Monday night. We could drop the girls off and then we ski our butts off incognito [incognito: a patroller skiing out of parka]. Let me know what you think, Suzy.”

Susan? Susan, a patroller whose skiing I envy? Susan, who skis men’s Volkyl AC3s because “those girlie skis aren’t stiff enough”, is going to trust the ski-upbringing of her beloved children to those blue Spyder-coat-clad prima donna ski instructors?

“Maybe we should think about it”, says Richelle. I tried to swallow my pride.

Well, in a moment of peer pressure and weakness and facing the threat of “these classes fill up quick”, I signed up the girls. We had a new baby whose two older sisters were begging for their snow time. Richelle or I alone couldn’t handle the two girls. My few years of instruction hadn’t yielded much fruit. I had to admit, it made sense.

January arrived. I met my wife at the local Office Depot parking lot for a strange exchange of kisses, cars, and children. We ran late, as usual. The Subaru came out of hyperspace just about 5 minutes before class time. We grabbed the gear.

“Be careful with the…! You hit your sister in the nose with your skis!”

It was complete chaos. I pulled gauze from the patroller pack to stem the bleeding.

We made it to slope side just as I reached my maximum heart rate. I heard a familiar voice. It’s Saundra who is both a ski patroller and a ski instructor.

“Are your kids in this class?”

“Yes?”, I answered hesitantly perhaps worried that I might be deemed lacking in the fatherly skills department for entrusting my children’s ski education to others.

“Oh good! Freda, Andy’s kids are in the class too,” she said. Freda is a ski patroller and ski instructor too helping to teach the kids class. Freda told me that her children took lessons when they were my girls’ age too. Apparently, the other patrollers weren’t above letting their kids go to ski school.

By the end of the five weeks, Kit was skiing down the beginner hill and making wedge turns. Sam made major leaps forward. The chair lift was no longer a big deal and she was skiing some of the green hills. Her instructor wants me to work on getting her skis back to parallel at the end of turns.

I know when I’m wrong. I now know that I could not have taught the girls that well. Our ski instructors were there for a reason – they love teaching kids. They were very professional and connected with the girls quickly. The girls began to learn skiing like I knew they could.

* * *

So I guess it’s true. Mastery of a skill doesn’t always translate to the ability to teach that skill. That’s why people like Tiger Woods and Michael Phelps have coaches. Teaching has a skill set all its own. It is an art unto itself.

Being a parent, too, requires a unique skill set. It may be easy to believe that parenting is about taking the knowledge you already possess and passing it on as if it were some dusty heirloom. On the contrary, parenting is a dynamic ongoing process of learning for both parent and child. In this case, I learned a valuable lesson: knowing when to let go can be as important as being involved. By setting my own ego aside, my girls attained a much better learning experience.

“Daddy, did you see me turn?”

“ Daddy, did you see me on the chairlift? ”

My girls couldn’t wait to tell me or show me what they’d learned. They brimmed with the pride of accomplishment. I was proud of them, perhaps as proud as I’d been in their short lives thus far. Am I sad that it wasn’t me who made skiing click for them? No. I’d be more upset with myself had I been too trapped in my own stubbornness and ego to just let go.

As I drove home the last night of class, I looked at the girls in the backseat. They’d fallen asleep. I glanced at the passenger seat and eyed the class photo the girls had been given – my girls with the biggest smiles I’d seen on them. I smiled as I thought about how far they’d come this season. I smiled realizing how far I had come this season.

Andy Guinigundo lives just outside of Cincinnati. When it’s snowing you can find the Guinigundo’s at Perfect North Slopes.