I walk 75 stairs every day.  Every week day, that is.

In the morning, loaded down with bags and books, I make my way from the far end of the parking lot (where the shade is) to my building.

I do not greet the stairwell with eagerness. Or with a cheerful smile. I hate my daily climb to the fourth floor.

Often I am already worn out from my morning workout or sore or wearing high heels or a pencil skirt.  And none of those things makes the climb any easier.

But I don’t take the elevator.

Oh, I used to. But then someone at work commented how the stairs must be so easy after the Fight for Air Climb.
A challenge. I resolved to climb.

Today I counted the stairs. There are 75. It’s nothing, I told myself.

Sometimes I struggle. Sometimes it’s a breeze. I’m always glad when I reach the top.

It’s not nearly as impressive as running 10 miles every morning or daily strength training. But it’s my daily dose: 75 stairs.