Even if I wanted to (I don't really want to), my body doesn't want me to. Also, I don't have stairs.
It wants me to listen to the alarms going off in my knee, my hamstring, and my achilles telling me "BE PATIENT!" and "Don't do this dangerous high impact thing that could cause even more harm to us!"
I'm not so good about remembering first memories, but I do remember a particularly significant time that I was breathless, because my soon-to-be-first boyfriend was involved.
Sounds sexy, right? WRONG.
I had just returned from a 3 week family vacation to Africa where I attempted to stay in shape for the upcoming/grueling tennis training by doing a lot of jumping jacks. That didn't work out so well.
Back on home turf, I was running through ladder drills at the gym with my trainer when my chest started to tighten. As a child, I had seasonal allergies, and yes I had an inhaler, but no I never used it. This was the time for the inhaler.
My chest only got tighter as I began to panic about not being able to breathe. It is a very scary thing not being able to breathe! I was making a noise that I would come to learn is "ocean sounding breath" in a yogic practice – but not on purpose.
I don't quite recall how I ended up outside (see previous point about not remembering first memories), but I remember someone went to get me ice (why ice would help with this, I also don't remember) and water and eventually, a cute, tall, concerned boy came outside and saw me wheezing up a storm. I wasn't in terrible shape, but hey, not so great for a first impression.
A few months later, he kissed me on a park bench not far from my house. That time, I was breathless, but for a different reason: it was my first kiss.