I usually forced myself up the steps to the sixth floor, but I'd given blood the night before. The instruction sheet said "no exercise for the next 24 hours" Maybe you should take the elevator...?
Nah, I thought. They mean real exercise like running laps. Don't be a wimp. Take the steps.
Soon I had second thoughts. This was hard! I was dizzy and out of breath.
If the stairs could talk, they'd have said:
Oh no you don't! I thought. You always wuss out when things get tough. Keep going!
I slowly pulled myself up the steps. If this were a fight, the steps were winning, and rubbing it in.
For someone who didn't want to be a wimp, I was sure looking like one.
Sometimes the truth is to lame to tell.