Stairs

Okay. I may have mentioned that I'm sick of the bike. This is predominately because... I am sick of the bike. I tried the crap stairclimber, but one of the things is loose and so one side of it gets progressively harder the more I "climb" and I am fearful of developing one super strong, giant leg much like those crabs that have one big claw and one small one.
What to do, what to do, I thought. We are supposed to do hills with the clinic tonight, but it's pretty disastrous out there. So I thought (and here's where it all went horribly awry) "climbing actual stairs will be like the stairclimber". That's dead wrong. Because when you're on the stairclimber you don't start to wonder what the statistical probability of having a heart attack at age 32 is. You don't hold onto the railings because you've lost feeling in your legs and are wary of tumbling down flights of concrete steps.
I went up and down eleven flights of stairs ten times in 29.02 minutes (though I will admit that I broke it up: doing five flights; then two; then two again; then one and interspersing them with upper body weight training). But still.
I think I've found my new favourite thing.
And yes, I totally need a tan and a haircut.