First, let me state that I am not an exerciser. I don’t belong to a gym, I don’t train, work out, or otherwise engage in any organized sport. That being said, I do walk a considerable amount and don’t shy away from swimming and volleyball. Now I know for a fact that many people are exercise fanatics – gym memberships, training for iron man competitions, runners, cyclists, etc. I also know many of these people personally. They are called friends. Based upon my unscientific calculations, at least one half of the people I know are in some type of regimented exercise program. That’s fine and dandy, and I applaud them for their discipline.
So, it comes as a laughable surprise to me that every morning upon disembarking the train at Suburban Station in Philadelphia there is an enormous line of people waiting to take the escalator to the upper level. Snaking around like lemmings eager to jump off a cliff, these early morning crawlers cannot find it in their reserves to take the stairs. The stairs are always relatively empty; the narrow escalator only allows for one person per escalator step.
Now, as I mentioned in my blog titled “Cocktail Hour,” I am not a morning person. But I am also not a lazy piece of commuter detritus. I am sure that if I polled these escalator clingers at least half would say that they either belong to a gym or participate in some sort of daily exercise routine. It boggles the mind that they cannot manage a few steps and view it as part of their overall health and fitness routine. (Note: The same applies to those zealots who troll the parking lot at their gym for a space closest to the building.)
So, while at least half of the world snickers and sneers at me for being an anti-workout type of gal, those same naysayers are refusing to lift their legs in an alternate motion pattern to ascend a staircase. This morning it was particularly funny because the line to use the escalator was so damn long and the stairs were completely empty. I felt like a princess ascending the wide expanse of steps and secretly sent my own personal sneers to the escalator junkies. Today I consider myself a “step above” everyone else. And I am.