Today marks the 29th day of my gym membership. And today I walked up the four flights of stairs to my poetry workshop, as I have each and every Monday and Wednesday for the last few months. But today when I reached the top I wasn’t gasping for air in between weezing and not breathing, generally acting as if not only had I walked up four flights of stairs, but I’d just carried two sacks of potatoes, an old woman and a five-year-old on my back while doing so. In fact, I wasn’t out of breath in the slightest. And I was so excited at this realization that I felt like dancing a little gig at the top, or even running back down the stairs and walking up them again, quicker this time, because I still had a few minutes to spare before class. But then I thought: don’t push it Kerri, you still have Wednesday; save some stair gusto for Wednesday.

But if all goes well I’m planning on inviting the sacks of potatoes, the old woman and the five-year-old back for a little trip up Stair Lane next week. Because, look at me, I’m not out of breath.