Last week in Montreal, I was somewhat careful about stairs, but I did climb more stairs than I've been doing at home in months: almost none of the Metro stations are handicapped-accessible, and
papersky and
rysmiel live in a walk-up apartment. I overdid things when visiting in July, because I thought for a few days that all was well. Being careful this time, I got home without significant knee pain.
On the strength of that, I went down to Chinatown after work today to do a little shopping (despite checking, I left my tea thermos at Papersky's, and it had already proven useful enough to be worth spending $10 on another). I walked down to the #6 station near my office (two flights, it's one of the relatively shallow lines, old cut-and-cover construction), and rode up in an elevator at Canal Street. After shopping, I walked down to the A station at Canal, and used my usual elevator up here. I got the thermos at Pearl River, which has elevators connecting the shopping floors; useful, given that I first tried the second floor, and actually needed the basement. When I decided to take the train to Chinatown, I figured that if necessary (i.e., if my knees hurt by then(, I could walk or take a bus to West Fourth Street, which is accessible, so I was only committing to the stairs down to the IRT at 33rd Street.
(Tonight's episode of "while the cat's away, the hobbit will eat mushrooms" was moo shu pork.)
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On the strength of that, I went down to Chinatown after work today to do a little shopping (despite checking, I left my tea thermos at Papersky's, and it had already proven useful enough to be worth spending $10 on another). I walked down to the #6 station near my office (two flights, it's one of the relatively shallow lines, old cut-and-cover construction), and rode up in an elevator at Canal Street. After shopping, I walked down to the A station at Canal, and used my usual elevator up here. I got the thermos at Pearl River, which has elevators connecting the shopping floors; useful, given that I first tried the second floor, and actually needed the basement. When I decided to take the train to Chinatown, I figured that if necessary (i.e., if my knees hurt by then(, I could walk or take a bus to West Fourth Street, which is accessible, so I was only committing to the stairs down to the IRT at 33rd Street.
(Tonight's episode of "while the cat's away, the hobbit will eat mushrooms" was moo shu pork.)