So—the stairs that I didn't walk last night got walked this afternoon. I just got back from walking up my building's giant staircase twice: from B1 to the 26th floor, then down to B1 by elevator, then back up to the 26th floor on foot a second time.
Here's what I looked like just before and just after the climb. The left-hand pic was taken in my apartment; the right-hand pic was taken on the 26th floor, with sunlight streaming into the building from the side:
My first thought, immediately upon finishing the massive climb, was Never again. Never a-fucking-gain. But after I'd had a few minutes to cool down, I thought, You know...this might just have to become my new Saturday thing.
The entire climb, including the elevator ride down, took about 23.5 minutes. Subtract a minute for elevator wait time plus the elevator ride itself, and that's about 11 minutes per ascent—not so different from my first-ever ascent.
I also stopped zero times during the first ascent, and only once during the second. The reason for stopping came as a surprise: it had to do with strength, not breath. The long climb up this damnable staircase does take a lot out of my legs. I also confess that I had to hold the handrail after about the 10th floor when I was on my way up the second time.
All of this points to a general improvement. I'm even beginning to lose weight again: according to my scale, I've dropped below the 124-kilo threshold (you'll recall I'd gotten down to 124.6 kg at the end of my 14-day experiment). The lowest I've gotten, in recent years, is 117 kg; we'll see whether I can beat that in the coming months. Summer's here; time to melt away.