Fit Fun Mom

You know what the hardest part of a long Saturday run is? It’s not the early morning wake up, the Southern California 76 degree heat even at 7 a.m., the 86 degree heat by the time I finished, the 11 miles on the road, or the smell of exhaust from the lawn mowers and leaf blowers. It’s the smell of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. I don’t even eat bacon, but it smells heavenly when all you’ve had to eat is half a banana and you’re eight miles into a run. There ought to be a law, or at least a principle of honor, that dictates that anyone who makes pancakes on a Saturday morning on a well-traveled running route must set out an extra plate, preferably with a side of real maple syrup. Listen up politicians. Here’s your new campaign slogan, free of charge: Pancakes for Everyone! The world would be a better place.