Five Miles

It's the weekend, and I do it as often as I can, I put five miles under my sneakers.  I don't know what it is, but it's the perfect amount of time to let go of my week.  I don't call anyone, I don't normally ask anyone if they'd like to come. Not on for these five miles.  These five miles are for me.  Today, it's a beautiful autumn day.  The sun is out, the smell of the trees on the walking paths is enchanting.  There's music in my ears, and blood rushing through my body.

Five miles, five days in my week just past.  Mile one takes care of Monday. Mile two eats up Tuesday.  Neighbors and traffic with open windows get serenaded with my rendition of Welcome to Burlesque, Someone Like You, Adele, Five for Fighting, Patsy Cline, and I really don't care who's listening or who can hear me.  It's my five miles.  I walked off Wednesday, trudged through Thursday and said good bye to Friday, smiling at my fellow walkers and runners.

I am grateful for my five miles, and I what it offers me.  Solace, peace, strength, and five miles of moments under my sneakers.

I walked five miles today, and it wasn't even uphill both ways.