Disadvantages Of Climbing Stairs Mga Nobela at Kwento

He sat beside me, stretching his long legs. I scowled at him. "I do exercise." "Picking up food from the plate and dropping it in the mouth isn't exercise." My scowl deepened. "Is climbing considered?" His eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, but you don't climb." I smirked. "I do actually, more than 10 times a day." "Liar." "From my bedroom to the kitchen and back, there are 10 stairs and climbing is exercise. This means if I go down 10 times a day, I climb up 100 stairs, every day. Beat that!" I grinned proudly.

3 MONTHS LATER… Bailey's POV “Yes Shayna, I'm just getting home. I'm about to climb the stairs.” I said, balancing the grocery bag in my other hand. “Take the elevator. Why are you using the stairs, are you trying to kill my baby?” she squealed. “Your baby?” I asked. “You know what I mean! But just take the elevator Bails,” “If you must know, I got to the elevator and saw it was under repairs. According to Richard, it broke down in the morning. Besides, using the stairs would mean exercising, it keeps the baby active.”

Plus the floor is too cold for either of us. With a groan I stand up, holding the table for support. I’m mostly sweating by the time I’m fully standing. One step at a time and I leave the kitchen. The stairs seem like an even bigger feat to conquer, but I do it anyway, counting up to ten before climbing each stair. I’m ready to pass out when I make it to the top. All I hear is my heart pounding in my ears, it’s so loud that I almost miss the soft whimper coming from the room beside mine.

“I didn’t think it’d be an issue. It’s the only guest room on the second floor, Hailey.” “There’s Grandma’s room,” I shot back, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Grandma’s room is on the first floor, and you know she’d throw a fit climbing those stairs,” Mom replied, matching my sarcasm beat for beat. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “Grandma only stays for two days every other week! Her legs wouldn’t hurt that much, and besides, climbing stairs is good exercise,” I huffed. What was the big deal with tackling a flight of steps, even if you’re older and your legs complain a bit?

Is he fine, what might have happened to him. Climbing the stairs was the hardest part of this journey, the usual easy task seems so difficult and challenging each step I took felt like climbing a mountain. Tightly grasping the railing, enclosing my fingers around it I tried to trudge upwards, slowly and steadily. Making sure not to fall down due to drowsiness. It was such a sleepy state that if I would have closed my eyes, I would have immediately slept on the stairs.

Before us were a flight of stairs going downwards. “I would have thought you would choose a lift over stairs,” I mused aloud. “Stairs are more reliable than lifts. It also keeps my men fit.” We descended down the steel stairs, swiftly reaching yet another door that was only opened once Thale put his hand to the reader. On the other side was another flight of stairs. This went on for a while. In the end I started to feel a little claustrophobic, as if we were trapped in this never-ending déjà vu cycle of stairs and locked doors.

“Sorry about that. It’s the static from walking up all these damn stairs all the time. When are we going to get some elevators put in? This is brutal, isn’t it?” Chuckling, I lay my head down on his chest and sigh. “I was thinking the same thing before I almost broke my face back there. There’re four floors. Five if you count the flights of stairs leading to the shifting dungeon. Why hasn’t anyone thought to put some elevators in? Imagine being pregnant with twins and having to trudge upstairs to the fourth floor. Like your mom, I can’t even fathom how horrible that would be.” He chuckles and reaches his hand that’s holding my legs up to grip the doorknob, twists it and kicks it open, then k

Deimos reprimanded me that I had a problem of not paying attention to it and slipped frequently before so I began to focus on counting the steps in my head. Every time I near the stairs it feels as if it is a test of resilience for me, taunting me if I can make it till the end. By the time I do reach the end using up every last drop of my energy I am a panting sweating mess. Climbing up is even harder, my male often carries me when he is at a close distance. Even if he was far and I was very tired he would run all the way dropping his work just to carry me up the stairs.

Dropping the silver bullet in the mailbox called the shots. It means war in her language. *** Climbing the steel trusted stairs, was a total pain. Even her daily exercise routine couldn’t prepare her for a four-story climb. The steps seemed like an endless course ahead. She is still on the second floor and when she looked up it felt more tiring to move forward. If only she didn’t cut her pants and hurt her damn leg earlier, the stairs would be one less thing to worry about. Besides she loves her daily dose of cardio exercise. But with steep footing that makes it another mountain to climb.

I hate stairs, not because of the stereotypes associated with a big person, just because I hate how its something I personally can't get up normally. I've always had to watch my entire life people go up them without a ounce of frustration or fatigue, but I'm the odds one out, it brought attention to me even when I just wanted to disappear. I go up one by one, and as fate has it, beads of sweat forms on my top eyebrow and I heatedly wipe away at them. I'm already at the half point, but my breathing has gotten lagged, and my