Step Right Up

“I’m going to climb all the steps in my building at LEAST once a day.”

Ah, the optimistic promises of those facing lockdown.  Just because I can’t go out for a run didn’t mean I had to lose the running mojo I’d been slowly re-developing over the previous couple months.  Ah, 2020 … you teased us with such promise.

The stairwell happened exactly once, early on. I was winded an inordinately short amount of time, and it only took a few minutes to go from the ground level to my 5th-floor flat (top floor, but hardly a penthouse).

This morning, in an effort to limit my lockdown laziness, I took the recycling out (first breaths of on-the-street fresh air in four days. I took the elevator (because it’s new and shiny) down, and noticed how clean the new floor was. That’s not gonna last.

On the way up I set two timers. 20 minutes on my watch and 30/30 intervals on my GymBoss app. I climbed for 30 seconds up, then took 30 seconds to look out the landing window. I never rested on floors with doors just the landings between them. #goodcitizen

Lather rinse repeat till the top. Then walked all the way down ignoring interval timers. I didn’t check my watch until I thought I was almost done, at which point I realized that 6 minutes of walking up and down stairs seems like AT LEAST  half an hour.

A big shout out to the people who live in walkups (carrying groceries!) and their asses that I could bounce quarters off of.

On one of my trips to the lobby, one of the neighbors came in the front door — an older guy (probably my age, lol). He’d just come from the (overpriced) 24-hour super next door was holding two packets of cookies. Breakfast of champions. We was wearing slippers, PJ bottoms, a janky t-shirt an a bathrobe. To go to the market!

I’d say he’s winning the lockdown, but I saw him come in one morning just after we’d moved in, dressed pretty much the same. I have since added “achieve robe-guy’s level of no fucks given” to the someday/maybe list in my planner.

I carried on for the remaining 14 minutes and thought that tomorrow (or the next day time, routines schmoutines) I might even go 35/25 intervals. I also learned that, like in running when the first mile lies, the first few flights are deceptively taxing.  “Maybe I’ll even bump up my minutes as well, “I thought.

And we laughed and laughed.

Baby steps. Literally.

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