Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

Nobody tells you the hardest part about working out in your 40s isn’t the workout. It’s the stairs. I live in a 5-level house. Five. Levels.

Need coffee? Stairs.
Need laundry? Stairs.
Need to pee? Stairs.
Forget your phone upstairs? Guess you don’t need your phone anymore. I did one workout. ONE. Now every time I sit down, stand up, or attempt stairs, my legs hate me. Yesterday I was laying on the floor hyperventilating after my workout while my husband looked concerned and I was trying to decide if I should call an ambulance or just accept my fate.

My toddler is flying up and down the stairs like a tiny mountain goat fueled by fruit snacks while I’m gripping the handrail like we’re climbing Mount Everest.

Today I dropped something on the floor and stared at it for a solid minute. That’s your life now, buddy. The worst part is I know I need to keep working out. The worstest part is my house has 47 more flights of stairs waiting for me tomorrow.

I’ll be taking one stair at a time and making old lady noises every time I stand up.