I share the steam room with guys who swim twice as fast as I can, who lift two-hundred pound weights, who can run on a twenty-degree tilted treadmill much longer than I can walk on a flat one. But in the steam room, they're the wimps, and I'm the macho.
The steam comes out of a pipe at floor level. It's incredibly hot. Everyone draws his feet up when the steam pours, either lifting feet a few inches, or drawing their legs, scared-pussy style, up onto the tile bench. Not me! I'm convinced that that steam killed my toenail fungus. I leave my feet on the floor, in order to remain a better person, and now I'm used to the heat. So there.