Stadium Stairs




It was 4.30 in the afternoon. I had walked slowly but consistently around the stadium's oval track for 7 rounds now and I was sweating profusely.

It was a very hot and humid afternoon and I was feeling a little bit dizzy. I could feel the burning and stinging sensations of sunlight touching my skin; and I could also feel the hot track beneath me. But it was definitely not the best time for me to quit now, I told myself.

I looked up at the distant thick and shady trees and the far blue mountain; they were calm, relaxed and beautiful. But I was thirsty, tired and impatient; there was no wind around me and the air was at a dead standstill.

I looked up at the stadium stairs, I could see the canopy over the stadium seats. This would be a good time to change my walking routine, I told myself.

I looked back at my wife, who was a distance behind. I pointed at the stadium stairs, signaling to her that I was going over there. My wife nodded, knowing my stubbornness, that I would never take no for an answer.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and began to walk up the stairs; it was a 30 step stairs. I reached the top of the stadium; it was very shady and cool. I sneaked a break, watching people continued suffering under the very hot sun (and laughing at my wife, LOL) and admiring the distant mountains and trees.

I had enough of my short break, and continued my journey down. I did my second round, and then my third round, etc. I was confident that I could do better after my fifth round. So I started to run up and down the same stairs. Before long, I was panting like a dog. It wasn't easy, I told myself; I was running short of breaths and I believed my face was red and then pale (or was it the other way round?).

Finally my wife came and joined me. We took a rest of 10 minutes, wiping our face, hands and feet. The day was still very hot, and it wasn't getting any cooler. I wiped my sweat again and continued my routine of walking up and down the stairs.

It was a quarter past five; more people were entering the stadium. My wife was then jumping the stairs. It seemed like a good workout for me, I told myself. I decided to join her, only to discover that I had a difficult time jumping with my fat tummy and my weak knees.

The sun was going down. The stadium was shady now and I could feel the cool breeze blowing over my body.

I looked at my wife and we decided to make a move.

It was 5.30 p.m.; it's time to cook for our evening meal.

1 comments:

  Fran Mann

January 23, 2011 at 4:52 AM

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