Sometimes I keep track of the miles.
On Monday I ran 4.25. Then we walked 1.8 miles to the doctor’s, and 1.8 miles back home. In the afternoon, we walked another .9 of a mile to a friend’s house, watched a movie, and walked home. Almost 10 miles that day. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Sometimes my legs like it because it’s been too long since I really used them and they are happy to be of service. Sometimes they get a little tired of it. And sore.
But even when they are tired and sore, they get me where I want to go. And my family, too. Because often, it’s my legs that are doing the work for two or three or even four of us.
I’m grateful to my legs for that. Grateful that they get me to playdates and preschool, as well as to better frames of mind and sunnier moods. Grateful that they keep me going so I can take care of my family. Grateful that even though I ask a lot of them, they are willing and able to deliver.