The Stairwell

Hey, Girlfriends and Guy friends.

This past week I visited my two son’s (and sweet daughter-in-law) in Philadelphia.  I stayed at my oldest son’s condo and realized about halfway through thirty-five minutes of exercise, that I should share my Stairwell experience with you.

It’s not polished, pretty or planned out, but it’s the real me.

Yeah.  I’m sweaty, short of breath, and stinky.

Fortunately, it’s only two-and-a-half-minutes of my stairwell challenge.

Mr. Stairwell

I started trudging Mr. Stairwell eleven years ago when Patrick moved to this Condominium building.  At first, I was creeped out by the grey coldness of the cinder block walls, and fearful that the door would lock behind me.

Here’s another thing.

It’s crazy, but in all the years visiting this Stairwell, I have NEVER passed another person. Not one!  Perhaps other stairwell walkers use one of the other two stairwells found in this building?  Or they walk at different times of the day?  I don’t know.

Occasionally I hear the hum of a vacuum as I pass by a door to a floor, or hear a unit door being shut, but essentially…  I am alone.   

Uphill then Downhill

I usually set my phone timer for thirty-five or sixty-five minutes entering the twelfth floor and head up toward the fifteenth.

These dingy walls could divulge much truth about me if they could talk.

Throughout these eleven years, they’ve archived my sweat, shortness of breath, along with mumbled frustrations, twisted rants, jumbled prayers, fears, goals, joys, and rationalizations.

But lucky for you and me, the Stairwell wall did not record my voice.  Here are the two organizations that I mentioned in my video.  Please check them out.

It would be awesome to increase awareness through each of my readers!

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