There are fourteen steps leading from my living room to the upper section of my condo. Even though I have lived here for a number of years, I was never fully aware of this fact… until now.
Normally I probably climb those stairs 8 to 10 times a day. No big deal. Just a hop, a skip and a jump, all of this while yodeling. My cat often accompanies me and does this with irritating ease. But lately this trivial activity has morphed into something much more challenging. Since my back surgery, I have to pause almost on every step before trying to conquer the next one. I keep telling myself that this is just a temporary setback, but it hurts my self-esteem… without mentioning my back.
In today’s jargon, I am now what you call “mobility impaired”. I need to use a “walker” for moving from place to place. My own assessment is that it is much too early to pigeonhole me in this demeaning second-class status.
My only consolation is that I can now park in handicapped parking spots. But frankly, I would rather walk a few hundred steps rather than to use this dubious privilege.
A step is not much: in the US it is just 7 inches tall, but lately it seems to have grown taller overnight. It feels more like 9 inches than 7. Is it all these pills that I am popping up?
When I was growing up In Paris, we used to live on the 3rd floor of our building. This gave me ample opportunities to practice what is now called “competitive step climbing.” In those days, like most families, we didn’t have a phone and children were routinely used as unpaid laborers.
Alain, go and get a baguette… Alain get me a newspaper… Alain take the garbage down… Alain get some fresh milk for your brother…
I didn’t mind though. Any excuse was good for me to get out of the house and stretch my short-panted legs. I would rush down the stairs like an avalanche and woe be to anybody standing in my way. I was a real “galopin”.
Climbing back was no problem either. I would go up two steps at a time and I was up on the 3rd floor before you could finish any prayer to fend off the devil and his disciples.
So again, I am no stranger to stairs climbing. In my heydays I could challenge the best of them. You could even call me a visionary trendsetter.
Small steps are good for you. They keep you humble and levelheaded.
Remember Lao Tzu:
A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.
Alain