I came home after work this evening to find that the elevators in my building were out of service. All of them. I live on the 17th floor. So after I walked 6km (3.72822715 miles) home, going the the long way (it’s usually only 4.5km or 2.79617037 miles) and picking up a few groceries, I had to climb up 17 flights of stairs. I hate stairs. My asthmatic lungs hate stairs. I’m great on flat ground, I can walk forever (well, at least 6km in an hour), but throw a hill or a flight of stairs in front of me and I’m dying. After about 6 flights, I had to stop every two floors to catch my breath.
Maybe I should practice taking the stairs every now and then just in case that happens again.
It was another gorgeous day here in Toronto, with spring temperatures. I had my first bare-legged day of the year (not on purpose, I got a run in my tights when I got to work and decided just to take them off), and my first lunch on the patio of the year. Not bad for March 14th.
This was my outfit with tights:
Will came home about an hour ago and said the elevators are fixed now. Just my luck.