19 and Counting

I left my house yesterday morning and was filled with a mild feeling of dread when I pressed the elevator button and it did not light up.  I could hear the industrial fans in the elevator shaft, obviously trying to dry out the results of the previous night's flooding.  Having walked down 23 flights at my office in Calgary I knew it wouldn't be a problem here.  The flights are actually nice and small, with single flights between floors.  My only concern was my timing.  I still made it to work with about 5 minutes to spare, thanks to my new earlier schedule.

I did some grocery shopping after work.  I've been on the hunt for my favourite salad dressing that was always stocked at the Forest Hills Loblaws.  I searched down their website and went to three local distributors but they had no record of selling their product.  I've sent their customer service an email to ask for up-to-date recommendations.  Mmmmmm good.  Having struck out at yet another grocery I decided to pick up a few items.  Which turned into a full bag's worth.  When I got home I ran in to see if the elevator was working yet to gauge how many groceries I was willing to carry, should I have to take the stairs.  Up just the first flight, I looked around a corner and down a hall and I could see the outside.  There was a slight cool breeze I could feel against my cheek.  As I turned to look up at my pending doom I could feel myself already suffocating.  A concrete torture chamber awaited me, and I had to inflict that pain upon myself willingly.

Long story short I made it up all 20 flights, or I guess it's actually just 19 flights to get from P1 up to my place.  I really started to lose hope at floor 6.  At floor 9 I gave up and sat down, the first of many rests I would take (might have even been my second rest...yeah).  From then on out it was 2-3 flights at a time, followed by a short rest.  As I got higher up my main motivation was to not get lapped by anyone.  I knew those chances would decrease the more I pushed on through.  Someone did lap me at floor 15 I sat dripping with sweat catching my breath.  I'm well aware I'm massively out of shape.  I don't need a 19 flight stair climb to prove it to me.

When I got on the elevator today (hallelujah) the guy beside me had pressed two.  When I went for nineteen he said "That flood must have been rough for you."  It was...it was.  I could still feel the burn in my legs today at work.  Kind of pathetic.  But it almost makes me want to attempt one climb a week.  Until it's no longer painful.  And under normal circumstances I can always give up and take the elevator the rest of the way.  Horrible motivation.  At least I did better than my brother who had to walk down 50 flights of stairs and walk almost an hour in the pouring rain in an Italian suit.

 Zee End.