On the BYU campus is a sinister set of steps. Let me explain. Because I am not a professor I get to park, along with 30,000 other students, in parking lots located miles from class. The people in admissions are secretly cruel. They make sure there are more than twice as many students enrolled than there are parking spaces. So students battle it out every day in parking lots. The BYU grounds crew is very efficient and constantly clears all traces of blood and guts before the media gets wind of the devastation.
Once I found an unguarded parking space. Delighted, I finally parked my car and started walking to class. I passed the Smith field house heading east. Then I saw them... a formidable run of stairs so long I could not see to the top. Undaunted, I started up the stairs loaded down like a pack mule with over 40 pounds of books, a computer, water, etc. For those who are smart enough to have rolling backpacks, please note that they are not very effective when it comes to stairs.
I consider myself in fairly good shape. However, it wasn't long before my legs and lungs were complaining. I kept going, even when other students quit and opted for the easier underground passage that was mercifully provided just before consciousness was lost. "Give it up!" my body screamed. "No!" my brain retaliated..."You can do this!" "Just take it one step at a time"... When I finally made it to the top things were hazy and I was gasping for air. My legs felt like rubber. But I prevailed!
I meet the steps often, sometimes two or three times a day. I always take it to the top.
