When I first arrive at work in the morning, I always take the stairs from the 2nd floor to the 4th floor. I want to say it’s about 40 stairs. When I get to the top, I always want to fall back down them. It’s the worst moment of the day. I am reminded that I am fat and out of shape. And for about another good minute, I’m incapable of combating the negative thoughts in my head because I’m too busy trying to control my breathing to control my thinking.
But then after I’ve stopped at the water fountain, gasped out a shaky “Good morning, I can’t talk because I’ve taken the stairs.” to my coworkers and settled in my office…then the pride kicks in. I am so proud of myself for walking up those stairs. I’m proud of myself for not allowing embarrassment to completely overwhelm me when I step upon the final stair breathing like a racehorse in the Kentucky Derby. And I’m even more proud of myself because, inevitably, as I reach the top of the stairs the elevator opens to reveal a younger, nimbler and much skinnier student stepping off of it. I always think to myself, “Even YOU don’t take the stairs? Well, at least I took a stab at it!”
And just like that, I’m pimpin again.
So as I sit here, 30 years old, these are my thoughts. It’s the knowledge I’ve got to share, since nowadays, everybody that hits a pivotal age feels duty-bound to dole out a damn lesson.
“I think that having a good life is about taking the stairs in the morning.”
You see, taking the stairs is a real bitch. You don’t want to do it. It hurts. Fighting gravity reveals your limitations as a human being, limitations that are particularly more painful if you’re out of shape. And yes, you have the option of taking the easy way out and taking the elevator…but you shouldn’t take the elevator. You should walk up the stairs. At least once that day. Because life isn’t about taking the easy way out all the damn time. Sometimes, it needs to burn. Life gets better after you’ve worked hard and felt some pain.
And if I don’t know anything else, I know there are going to be a lot of stairs in life. Lately, it seems like I’ve walked up enough to stand at the top of the Eiffel Tower and look out over Paris. But I mean, it’s worth the view. Today, I’m seeing rainbows and beautiful lawns and people eating croissants. I’d like to stay up here for as long as I can.
And before you go getting caught up in how wise I am, let me say this: Perhaps, the real lesson here is that, at 30, you realize you don’t know shit, life is hard AND you can barely get your big behind up stairs. Yep, that’s probably the real lesson. But you know, that’s not as inspirational and I like inspirational shit.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!