You casually trot to the exit, where you push the vertically-rotating turnstile — whoa! As the turnstile rotates, a bar slams into your lower belly. A human would have no trouble passing through, but as a a tour your hindquarters are now stuck hanging on the raised bar. You struggle to lift your back half, but ultimately to no avail. You turn around and use your handpaws to force the turnstile to turn once more, so that your back half is no longer stuck hanging on a bar, but as the next bar raised it smacked on your butt. Turnstiles are definitely not designed for taurs, and even then this one could at least be turned twice; what if you had to use a turnstile where each person can only spin it once after tapping a card? That'd be fun.
You're now heading to the park at the bottom of the flight of stairs opposite the road, which has a jogging path inside. As you cross the road, even more pairs of eyes set on you, both pedestrians and drivers. You're probably getting used to this sooner or later it seems.
The downward flight of stairs is what's giving you the most trouble. You meekly take a step down, and then another, and you find your upper torso naturally leaning forwards, thus shifting your center of gravity forwards too much, nearly tumbling yourself down the stairs. You quickly retreat, regaining your balance.
You have an idea: you leaned your upper body forwards, laying your hands on the steps, slowly climbing down the stairs on all sides. Your jumper feels like it's going to come off anytime soon, and since you head points downwards you feel a little nauseous, but at least you made it to the bottom safely. Your upper torso springs back up, your whole body returning to the standard L-shape for a taur, and wipe your handpaws on your jumper, since you've just touched the ground with the handpaws so much
That's so much hassle just to get around. You finally got to know what living as a taur is like, you sigh.
Soon you arrive at the park. Reaching the jogging path isn't difficult, you know the way already. You gradually pick up a pace, and finally feel the strength flowing through every muscle fibre of yours, the breeze flowing past your shoulders and upper torso, the myriad of scents rushing into your nose: this is pure bliss, and it was all worth it for this moment. Even turning around the bends are of no trouble to you, having practiced turning around sharp bends. There's only one thing: as the clouds opened for the sun to shine its light on the pavement, you realize how scalding the floor is: canine paws are very vulnerable to heat blisters. You run to a shadow beneath a tree for a temporary respite. Maybe you could try running somewhere else that won't scald your four naked paws…