When my wife and I were house-hunting eight years ago, hoping to take advantage of absurdly low interest rates, we had several criteria: a two-story house with a master suite downstairs, a screened porch and a brick exterior. We got none of those, but we love our house and wouldn't dream of moving.
In the years since, I've had time to ponder whether the second-floor master bedroom might force me into a different home in the coming years or whether the several-times-a-day climbing of the stairs might provide the exercise and flexibility I will need as my muscles and joints age. I go up and down the stairs a half-dozen times on most days. When I'm home all day, that number doubles or triples, depending on what I'm doing. Most days I'm in enough of a hurry to run up the stairs and skip down the stairs. So far, so good.
The agent who first showed us this house told us that there were plans available to add a master bedroom on the ground floor on the far side of the sunroom. If money were more plentiful, we might consider such an addition, but money is not going to be plentiful, so we have to settle for what we have. If my mobility falters, I will simply have to gut it out and climb the stairs like a toddler or convert the sunroom into a sickroom.
But I'm counting on the daily climb up the stairs to maintain my leg strength, core muscles and flexibility. Casual observations suggest to me that people who give in too easily to their aches and pains are the ones who develop early mobility problems. So it's up the stairs for me, with as much velocity as I can muster, but I promise to keep my hand on the rail going down so I don't lose my balance and topple head over heels to the bottom.
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