Last week, I didn't do the stairs at all because I felt like death. I missed half a week before that as well, due to my friend being in town. I walked home the long way every day instead, so that I'd still get some exercise, even at a reduced level. Did the stairs yesterday (reduced back down to 3 reps instead of 4) and just about killed my lungs. By the time I was done, it kind of hurt to take normal breaths. It felt like I'd suddenly become a pack-a-day smoker.
At any rate, now I dread the stairs even more, because I'm still coughing/fighting the urge to cough at this point. I don't want to not do them, though, because I already feel sluggish and gross. Had a lockout call at midnight last night, and maybe it was because I'd just rolled out of bed, but when I saw myself in the elevator mirror...I'm enormous. I think I'm at the weight I swore to myself I'd never be again. We're talking "Fatty, Fatty Two-by-Four, Can't Fit Through The Kitchen Door" here. I know this isn't true, for the record, but it doesn't lessen the feeling of grossness.
You know, I don't know the point of this ramble except to showcase that I'm a big, whiney baby, so I'm going to stop.
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