Shaking off the Rust

"There is a water station just a couple floors up", one of the volunteers offered.

One Penn Plaza, NYC

I was somewhere in the 20's and by now I was having a hard time keeping a single foot on the landings. My arms were jelly and my heart rate was beating out of control. 

I stepped out of the stairwell and took a drink of water. Spots of perspiration were already showing through my T-shirt. 

Shit. I was only halfway to the top and I was already exhausted. With time ticking away, I re-entered the stairwell and continued my climb. 

What was I doing here? 

After my uninspiring return to competitive stair climbing at the Stratosphere, I signed up for One Penn Plaza in NYC. I knew I needed a couple more races under my belt before I attempted the World Championships at the Taipei 101.

Training had gone well over the last month, though I regretted going out to eat a handful of times. Other than that, I had stayed on point with my diet. Oatmeal and Salad. Oatmeal and Salad. Somewhat depressingly, the scale showed me just north of 180 lbs. a couple days before the race. I had gained 1.5 lbs in just two days?

I *knew* this was just normal fluctuation - probably due to water weight (and such) - but it didn't help my confidence.

Both Steve M. and David R. were in the lineup, so I knew this race was going to be competitive. 

David is an amazing athlete, though "extreme" might be a better term. He climbs tall mountains (like K2 & Everest) without oxygen and has been top 100 at the NYC marathon. If you want to follow someone hardcore yet unassuming on social media, he's my pick.

Steve is my Tower Masters teammate. Ex-Marathoner turned stair climber. Back in the day he was as fast as David. Though he's 58, he's proven that age is just a number and he hasn't slowed down in the 10+ years I've known him.

Inevitably as a competitive stair climber, you make comparisons with your rivals. If this climber beat so-and-so at this race and that climber beat so-and-so at that race, than this climber is faster than that climber. 

So when I saw that Steve just beat Alex (Jill) at a recent Milwaukee power-hour* and Alex (Jill) clipped me at the Stratosphere, I knew Steve was in great shape.

*to be fair, I believe Alex (Jill) had a double header that weekend.

But I digress. 

The point is, I was still 10 lbs. overweight and spotting a couple strong climbers 25* seconds... and I found myself on the 30th floor feeling both nervous and winded.

*after the fact, I did the math and it was more like 20 seconds.

As I crested the 40th floor, I could hear another group of volunteers chatting up ahead. The final water station. This was my designated "Go to" floor but by now I was a hot mess and the clock was still ticking.

Screw it. I was done. Cooked like a turkey. I pulled out my water bottle and took a swig. Time to take the elevator down.

With my warm-up complete*, I rushed back to the waiting area. I donned my racing jersey and changed into my damaged racing flats - hoping they'd hold out for another race.

*Sorry for any confusion. I still had 10 minutes before the official race start.

After a final round of burpees, I headed to the start line. Behind me, my friend and traveling companion Tom called out "Good luck!"

27 Seconds to Go!

The ALA race organizer, Paul Curley*, started lining us up. David was likely the strongest climber - despite his recent shoulder injury - and took to the front. I tucked in 3rd behind Steve - he won the race last year and had the #1 bib. I suspected that my under 7 minute goal time would be faster, but his recent win in Milwaukee and my less than stellar performance at the Strat meant he deserved to start ahead**. 

*A competitive stair climber in his own right. He's a former cyclo-cross semi-pro and masters champion.

**The truth is, I hate having my rivals start behind me. Getting passed by a rival is one of the worst feelings and I try to avoid that whenever possible.

Right at 9:00 AM, David entered the stairwell. The organizers were doling out 30 seconds of space, so I had time to wish Steve good luck before he took off climbing.

9:00:57, 9:00:58, 9:00:59. GO!

I set my metronome to 91 BPM, roughly 50% faster than my warm-up pace. 

When I first did this race back in 2012, my goal time was to beat 7:00 minutes (6:40 stretch goal) so I figured I'd use a similar pacing strategy. Back then I climbed in ~6:54 with a 90 BPM pace.

Why was this still a reasonable pace? Glad you asked!

Looking back, my best time in this building was 5:55 set in 2018 when I was in close to top shape. I remember I had recently dropped weight for an indoor rowing race (Crash B) so I was also fairly light (like 170 or possibly 169 lbs.). Considering I was 10+ lbs heavier now, that meant I was spotting myself a solid 20 seconds (10 lbs. / 180 lbs. = 20 seconds / 355 seconds). Add in another 20+ seconds for fitness (estimate) meant that the best I could hope for was a 6:35 in the stairwell. Let's round that up to 6:40 as the extra climbing time meant I'd have to decrease my pace even further to accommodate*. 

*Remember, the added weight and decreased fitness means the building "feels" like a taller building...  and the taller a building is, the slower you need to set your pace.

So after careful consideration, this race matched perfectly with the 2012 edition. However, I added 1 BPM to my metronome for extra insurance.

With a proper warm-up under my belt, I quickly got into the groove. For the most part, I tried to keep one foot on the landings, though considering this was a 10/10 stairwell configuration*, this was somewhat challenging.

*10/10 means each floor has two 10 step flights with a 180 degree landing in the middle. If you take 2 steps at a time, this means that you have an odd number of footfalls each flight which puts you on the alternate foot each time you turn.

Though still nervous, I felt that I could keep the pace going until at least the 27th floor - about halfway up the 55 story building. 

Steadily I climbed into the teens. I could feel my calf muscles working overtime. The biggest difference between running shoes vs. racing flats is the lower heel drop. This meant I was climbing more on my toes/forefoot and using my calves for support. Truth is, I hadn't worn my racing flats in 4+ years and the difference caught me a little off guard - not good considering I was in the middle of a race.

By now I was in the upper teens. I could hear another climber coming up from behind. Was it Paul Curley? Or maybe that other racer who mentioned he climbed up 1WTC? My pace wasn't fast... but it wasn't necessarily slow either. During my practice climbs, I force myself to strict two count (2 beats per inhale, 2 beats per exhale). However now I was breathing with a one-count. Controlled and maximal... just barely under the red-line. I knew that whoever was behind me would be even worse off. I kept faith that I'd pull away eventually.

Sure enough, by the time I passed the water station on the ~22nd floor, I could sense the gap widening and by the time I hit the midway point on the 27th floor I could could no longer hear anybody below me.

I entered the 30s full of doubts. At the Stratosphere, my biggest mistake was conceding to my metronome which put me in range of - but not actually under - my goal time. Would 91 BPM actually get me under 7 minutes in this building? As I was marching up, the remaining time on the clock was ticking down. I'd need to make my move soon or lose the opportunity. The problem was... I was already gassed and with 20+ floors to go, it seemed inconceivable that I'd be able to maintain a faster pace for that long.

Slowly the ticked off each floor and somewhere in the upper 30's I could hear cheering from up above. That would have to be Steve crossing the final water station in the lower 40s. Still a pretty good lead, but at least I knew he wasn't too far ahead. 5 or 6 floors? Hard to tell. 

As I crossed the 39th floor I knew I had a big decision to make. Should I go for it on the 40th floor? or wait and see how I felt on say the 45th? What to do?

Firstly, stop second guessing. The 40th floor is the GO floor because it's less than twice the length of my super short practice stairwell. That means less than 2 minutes of climbing to go which is the bare minimum necessary to make up any sort of meaningful deficit.

Secondly, just GO, damn it!

So I finally listened to myself and picked up the pace. I didn't touch my metronome. I just climbed faster. 100 BPM? 110? I couldn't say. But my footfalls started skipping over the beat. Again and again and again.

I cruised by the final water station on the 42nd (?) floor. This is where I ended my warm-up. And this is where I'd make up lost time.

43, 44, 45...

Ten more floors to go.

By now I was in the pain cave. I could *still* keep up my pace, but I didn't have much left in the tank.

46, 47, 48...

I knew that if I could just make it to the 50th floor I could cruise to the 55th on fumes if need be.

48, 49...

I could hear another climber just a few flights ahead. I was actually catching Steve?

50, 51...

I couldn't believe it! I was less than a flight away from catching Steve.

52, 53...

Steve ducked out of the way for me to pass on the inside. I was breathing so hard I couldn't even thank him. It probably cost him a second, too*.

*Shoot. I really should have started one spot ahead. Apologies, Steve.

I attempted to pick up the pace on the final two floors but my muscles wouldn't respond. Like, I still had energy, but couldn't climb fast enough to use it.

I crossed the finish line exhausted, but still able to move on my own. Then, a few seconds later, the fatigue hit me like a truck as my heart rate caught up to my final burst of speed. I leaned against the wall for a moment until my heart rate finally started to settle down.

I walked off the fatigue for another minute or two before I was finally able to speak to Steve and David. I didn't have a watch so I needed to rely on them to estimate my time. In my foggy mental state all I recall is that David finished well under 7 minutes and based on Steve's time (7:15? 7:20?) I had likely been somewhere in the 6:40s.

I was definitely stoked. Win or lose, I had beaten my goal time of under 7 minutes and came close to my stretch goal of 6:40. Furthermore - assuming Steve watch was correct - I definitely climbed faster than I had in 2012.

As we were waiting for other climbers to finish, David noticed the door to the balcony area was unlocked and we took a quick peek outside. Even though it was raining pretty hard, it was a magnificent view. I wished I had my camera with me. This was the first time I had seen the view from the balcony as it is usually blocked off... and sure enough, after a few minutes the staff cordoned off the area.

The waiting area became ever more crowded as the other climbers made their way to the top. It was time to head down to relax, though not before we took a few "Tower Masters" team photos.

At the bottom, Tom congratulated me. Apparently, I finished the race in 6:40. Not only did it match my stretch goal, but I had taken the win by a mere 3 seconds!*

*While David may wish he dug a little deeper to make up those 3 seconds, I suspect our positions will be reversed come ESBRU.

It was a welcome surprise. Before the race I suspected David would handily take the win leaving Steve and I to duke it out for 2nd place. However, after I finished, I knew that my sprint from floor 40 onward had taken a bite out of that margin.

I chatted for a few minutes with Tom and David before David headed back home (he's a Brooklynite). Later I caught up with my Tower Masters teammates as I haven't seen any of them in over 4 years.

Lastly, while waiting for the award ceremony, I took Tom for one last look at the stairwell. Though he has traveled with me to some big races (e.g. Taipei 101) he's never actually participated in a stair climbing race, let alone climb up a tall building (sorry - 8 stories doesn't count).

So he started his stop-watch and up we went!

We were the last climbers to start prior to the full-gear fire fighters, so Paul asked us to count how many people we passed and let the organizers at the finish line know how many climbers were left in the stairwell.

I set a conservative pace. Tom tried to get me to go faster... but I didn't budge. Let's see how we feel at the first water station... 

and by then it was time for single stepping and a quick water break!

We slowly reeled in our first climber towards the halfway mark, offering encouragement along the way. By the time we had reached the final water station, we had slowed to a crawl, though we managed to catch a few more climbers during the ascent. 

By now we were all "warmed up" and after another quick water break, we finished the remaining 15+ floors at a faster pace, finishing the climb in a respectable 16 minutes.

Epilogue:

• It turns out the award ceremony occurred during our "fun" ascent. Whoops!
• Peanut butter balls (You know what I'm talking about, Tom)
• A nice lunch at "Five Senses" in Korea Town near the Empire State Building.
• Rain! Completely soaked by the time we got to Grand Central. Should've bought/brought an umbrella.
• More Rain in Poughkeepsie
• Driving carefully because of flooding.
• Freezing Rain?
• Snowstorm!?!

Overall I give myself an F for the umbrella, but an A+ for the studded snow tires.

Freezing Rain?!

Times Square!

Grades

Effort: A minus - A bit timid up to the 40th floor, but I turned it up a notch afterwards. At the finish line, I was still standing... but I did use the wall for support. 

Conditioning: C plus -  5% off my peak

Weight: C minus - Still spotting my rivals about 10 lbs. of fat, but I'm trending lower.

Pacing & Technique: A minus - 91 BPM was a little too slow. Maybe I should have tried 94 BPM? Clearly I had a huge negative split. In a perfect race, the splits would've been closer to even. Technique-wise, I'm glad I had a warm-up lap to practice the turns. During the race, I remember paying attention to my steps at least until the first water break. Then things get fuzzy. Likely some room for improvement.

Overall: B minus - While the fitness and weight can't be fixed overnight, I did everything else right.

Final Thoughts:

I was very disappointed with my Stratosphere results, so coming back and having a solid race a month later really picked up my spirits. The biggest difference was that at the Strat, I didn't know how I would measure up, so I raced very conservatively until the last 8 floors of the "donut". That just wasn't enough real estate to mount an effective comeback and I was left with a half-tank of gas at the end of the race. In fact, I spent a few minutes after the race just staring up at the tower. Even from the outside, you can see that the "donut" is just a small percentage of the overall height.

At One Penn Plaza, I knew that sub 7:00 was achievable (the Strat did provide a solid data point with regard to fitness and pacing). The key moment came on the 40th floor. Though I raced conservatively for most of the race, the final 15 floors gave me a lot more room to play with (like 27% of the building) and I was significantly more gassed at the finish line. Compared with the Strat, I was willing to dig deeper and execute my plan at the right moment.

I'm very happy with a 6:40. It isn't close to my best (5:55) but that is something I'm learning to accept. The good news is my weight is trending down and my fitness is trending up. 6:40 is actually slightly ahead of where I thought I'd be and if this continues, I honestly believe my fitness will fully return.

The Return

I finished my final set of burpees in the Stratosphere Tower entry hallway as the volunteers continued to remind me that my water bottle wasn't allowed in the stairwell. 

Yeah, no shit. I heard you the first time*.

*I hoped my inner voice wasn't too loud - they were just doing their job

By this point the first international competitor had started the race. With 25 second intervals, I had a couple minutes to recover and prepare myself. After a bit of dithering, I got in behind Cindy and just ahead of Mark H.

Normally, I'd be right behind the faster international elites, but it's been a long 4 years since I did a stair climbing race. In fact, my last race was exactly 4 years ago at this very same tower.

Why the hiatus? If you're reading this in the future, races shut down for the COVID19 pandemic... and during that time I became fat and out of shape.

About a year ago I decided to make a comeback and it was harder than I thought it would be. First, I gained 22 lbs. - which was significantly more than I had intended. Considering I exercised regularly - though admittedly less than before - I was taken aback by how much weight I had gained. Second, my fitness took a moderate hit. Base fitness was certainly there, but the extra weight and decreased volume of exercise cost me my competitive edge.

Despite increasing my training volume and watching what I ate, I only managed to lose a few pounds. By the Sears Tower race (November) I was finally below 190 lbs... but still nearly 20 lbs. heavier than my goal weight of 170 lbs. 

(I actually traveled to Chicago for Sears, but ended up getting sick and missed the race. But that is another story)

Right around Thanksgiving I decided to *really* step up my diet and exercise to prepare for the US Championship Race at the Strat.

So how did I do? You can be the judge.

The table below shows my average speed on my Precor Stepper for my 5 x 4 minute HIIT  sessions. For reference, my pre-COVID speed was in the range of 180-182 spm (steps per minute).

Date                Weight    Speed Delta Speed

14-Nov-23 188.5 150.4 DNF - Did Not Finish

21-Nov-23 189.25 151.3 0.19

28-Nov-23 189.75 150.8 DNF

05-Dec-23 186.75 151.6 0.29

12-Dec-23 188.50 152.3 0.69

19-Dec-23 186.00     153.0 0.66

09-Jan-24 185.00 153.7 0.75

16-Jan-24 184.50 154.7 1.00

23-Jan-24 182.75 155.6 0.90

30-Jan-24 183.50 156.7 1.04

06-Feb-24 183.25 158.0 1.31

13-Feb-24 181.50 159.5 1.54

20-Feb-24 181.25 160.9 1.35

While I dropped ~8 lbs. of weight and increased my speed a solid 10 spm, I didn't reach either of my goals. But it was still a marked improvement.

It was a tough pill to swallow, but I knew I would be fighting to get under the 9 minute mark and likely over a minute slower than my previous times (all in the range of 7:42 - 7:58).

A quick calculation shows that at best I could achieve would be ~180/160 x 7:45 = 8:43.

 

Notice the emphasis on "at best". 

As the race would be a whole minute *longer* than usual... it would be as if I was racing in a slightly taller tower - and therefore I'd have to cut my pace a litter further to accommodate.

So yeah... getting under 9 minutes was the goal... and considering all my rivals were in the 8:30 - 8:45 range... it meant I had only a sliver of a chance at taking the US Championship.

I'd be lying if I said wasn't disappointed. I used to be the guy people were chasing and taking a back seat was a blow to my ego as well as my confidence.

What's more, I knew I would've been in the hunt had I only been down to my race weight. The extra 10 lbs. meant I'd be spotting everyone a solid 30 seconds. Fitness wise, I was probably on par with my top rivals?

Finally it was my turn on the starting line. I was nervous, but it was good to be back.

I'd be climbing without my normal racing flats (broken left sole) and I chose to forgo wearing a stop watch. The absolute worst feeling would be to get half way through the race and realize I'm even slower than I thought I would be.

However, I *was* wearing my metronome and I dutifully set it to 86 BPM.

(The night before the race I read one of my older posts claiming that 97 BPM would get me to the top in around 8 minutes... so a simple ratio shows that 86 should get me to the top in about 9 minutes -  i.e. 86 BPM / 97 BPM = 8 min / 9 min)

Go Time!

It felt strange being back the stairwell after such a long hiatus, but it was also quite familiar: the open stairwell, the abnormally long flights, and the oddly rectangular handrails that would inevitably blister my fingers.

The first few flights were nerve wracking as I settled into my pace. My biggest fear was that my "slow" 86 BPM pace as still too fast and I'd bonk halfway through. 

I reached the 200s* pretty quickly and to be honest, the pace still felt easy. But from experience, I knew that the pace should feel manageable until about the halfway point. It's only in the latter third where you feel like hanging on for dear life.

*Remember, this tower doesn't have "floors" and is instead measured by altitude (in feet). We start out a few dozen feet from ground and climb to the upper 700s until we hit the bottom of the "donut". Then climb another 8 short floors until the top.

With substantial 25 second gaps between racers, racers more or less have the stairwell to themselves... but by the time I coasted into the upper 300s, I could see Mark a few flights below. He might've gained 10 to 15 seconds?

I probably should have been concerned, but between concentrating on the climb and the intensity of the exercise, I had limited capacity to worry. While it was conceivable Mark could edge me out in this race, I knew that I had still had plenty left in the tank and if it came down to it, I could always speed up. In addition, at the bottom of the tower Mark mentioned he would be setting his metronome to 81 BPM and was easily keeping up with 86 BPM. I *should* be pulling away, right?

Sure enough, by the 500s I had pulled away. 

I knew I had passed the halfway point so that meant 3-4 minutes left of climbing. This far into the race, I still felt pretty good, so I climbed a little bit faster than my metronome. It lasted only a few flights; the extra output put me closer to the red line and I was concerned that I'd burn out*. I figured I was already close to my sub-9 minute goal so I didn't wan to take the risk of bonking out. I could still turn on the afterburners when I reach the donut, right?

*I find your lack of faith disturbing.

The 600s crossed into the 700s and by now, I could feel the pace as I was starting to tickle the redline.

I glanced up, hoping to see the donut, but all I could see were more loooong flights of stairs.

Where the hell was the donut?  Wasn't it somewhere in the 700s? Or was it in the 800s and I just forgot the building went up that high? 

I immediately regretted not reviewing Stan's Stair Chart ahead of time.

By now I was in pain and just wanted the race to be over. While I still had energy in reserve, tapping into it would be painful.

As I let my mind wander, I finally hit the bottom of the donut. 

Time to jet.

I ignored my metronome and darted up. Floors 101 - 104 went by in succession.

I distinctly remember Jason telling me that he accidently left the stairwell on the 105th last year, so I when I saw the 105 placard, I made sure to keep climbing upwards.

106... 107...

I made one last attempt to increase my speed; foregoing the use of the handrails, instead pumping my arms to increase my turnover rate.

The Last Flight

I darted through the open door and crossed the line on the 108th floor.

While the final burst of speed inside the donut left me winded, I quickly walked it off.

I was happy to finally have a race under my belt, but slightly disappointed that I didn't climb a little harder. Under normal circumstances, I should be lying on the floor panting for air. 

Still, I easily maintained 86BPM for the majority of the race and climbed faster than that during the final sprint. I was pretty certain that I broke the 9 minute mark.

As the minutes ticked by, more racers finished and I had a chance to stretch, eat a banana, and see how everyone fared.

Though I was confident I had met my goal, a small seed of doubt germinated in the back of my mind. I knew that Cindy - a perennial woman's champ - should be climbing in about 9 minutes and I never saw her in the stairwell... meaning she either maintained her 25 second lead... or increased it.

As I was chatting with her, I did get a look at the online race results. Sure enough, she clipped me by a few seconds and it turns out I crossed the line in 9:07.

In-line with the tail end of my goal... but still disappointing. Especially considering I had energy to spare.

After the race, I went back to my hotel to take a quick shower and then back to the Stratosphere for the award ceremony.

It was difficult to be there.

While I was glad to finally make it back to the Strat and see my climbing friends, four years ago, I was the US Points Champion (best "point total for top 8 races) and runner-up American in very tight race. This year I wasn't even ranked... and I barely received an age-group award.

What's worse, is I was so much slower - well over a minute off of my previous worst.

I felt... washed up. 

And to top it off, I learned that I was bumped down yet another spot in the rankings.

Normally that shouldn't be enough to get me riled up, but the circumstances of it raised my hackles. You see, a competitor raced in the elite wave, but didn't push themselves. An hour or so later - after all the times were posted - did a *second* much faster climb. And of course that 2nd climb was 9 seconds faster than mine. While their 2nd climb was undoubtedly faster, I don't see how it can be counted. Are there any other types of races that allow a do over?

You can see the final results here. I was a distant 9th overall.

• Congrats to Wai Ching Soh for setting the course record*
• Congrats to Jason Larson who won the US Championship on the men's side
• Congrats to Jill (Alex) Paha who won the US Championship on the women's side

*To be fair Ryoji Watanabe was only .008 seconds back which is probably within the timing equipment's margin of error. 

I spent the rest of the trip decompressing. I met a few friends for dinner that night which helped me take my mind off of the race. The following day I spent shopping and walking around the Vegas Strip (like 25,000+ steps) before taking the red-eye flight back home.

Final thoughts

Part of me regrets going to Vegas. Had I skipped the race, at least my pride would still be intact. On the other hand, it gave an honest assessment of where I am at:

• My initial target of just under 9 minutes was pretty accurate. Yes, I was slower than that, but considering my confidence was poor and effort level was lower than usual, a 9:07 makes sense.
• Dropping another 10 lbs. is going to take at least another 3 months, but it will shave off another 30+ seconds.
• My fitness is still good, but it isn't at pre-COVID levels. I'm likely down 4-6%. While I may not get it all back, I am hopeful most of it will. My workout data supports that I'm still increasing my fitness at a steady rate. Admittedly, it is hard to separate weight loss gains* from fitness gains. I'll have a much better idea when I finally hit 170 lbs.

*No oxymoron intended

While I'm disappointed with my race, I'm more disappointed with myself for being at 181 lbs. 

The cold hard truth is that I came to the race fat and out of shape and it's entirely my own fault. It's not going to be an easy fix and I have many months of hard work to do before I'm race ready.

The only silver lining with my weight gain and subsequent (partial) weight loss is that I have first hand knowledge of how weight impacts speed in the stairwell. I've always have *theoretical* knowledge, but that isn't the same thing as living through it.

I guess there is one more silver lining:

I have some unfinished business in the stairwell and I'm motivated to finish it.

Grades

Effort: C - Lack and confidence and a whole lot of rust

Conditioning: C - I'm not yet close to my peak, but I trained my ass off to get to this point.

Weight: D - Spotting myself 10+ lbs. is unacceptable.

Pacing & Technique: B minus - 86 BPM is more like a 9:15 finishing time. Maybe if I paid closer attention to the turns it would've helped? There are ~70 turns and shaving a "step" off of each translates into 48 seconds, which is massive. I'm honestly not sure how efficiently I climbed, but it's clear that I should have either 1) increased my pace or 2) had fewer steps on the landings.

Overall: D plus - Below average effort and slightly underwhelming pacing compounded by the fact that I was fat and out of shape made this my worst race ever.

Dreams Pt.1

19DEC2023

I often dream about climbing stairs. They are often bizzarro versions of real stairs. I might as well document before I forget. 

Premise: I met a young, fit Asian girl and convinced her to try competitive stairclimbing. I took her to RPI to practice at the Approach (an outdoor stair case). 

Dream: For the first round, the goal was to climb as fast as possible to the top of the hill (Approach + Running + More Stairs) to test her fitness. However, I was slightly nervous as I was carrying an extra 20 lbs. But surely, I could still keep up with a newbie, right?

We started up the steps. Although we were at the Approach, the staircase looked different. The stairs were nestled between brick walls of apartment buildings reminiscent of a hilly NYC suburb. In addition, the pedestrians were well-dressed. Not the college kids, vagrants, and the occasional exercise fanatics I'm used to seeing. 

I kept up with her on the first extended flight. I was winded but so was she. I decided to pick up the pace.

The next flight was long and straight. About 100 steps. Rather than pass her on the stairs, I decided to take a parallel detour consisting of a dirt path carved into the grassy hill (note: this parallel path does not actually exist irl).

I ran up the pathway, pulling away from my trainee. However, at the very top of the path, a four-foot wall blocked my path. For some reason, I didn't notice the wall until the very top. Despite the rails (which struck me as odd considering I was on a dirt path) my muscles didn't have enough strength to get me over the top*. I was stuck.

Somehow I managed to get a leg over the wall and pull the rest of my body over the top. I had lost maybe 10 seconds. My trainee was nowhere in sight. I had either lost her on the previous flight or she was way ahead of me. Probably the latter. So I continued my ascent as quickly as possible. I couldn't let a newbie beat me to the top.

*Imagine doing pullups to exhaustion. That is what it felt like. Enough strength to hold on to the pullup bar, but not enough for one more full rep.

The end.

Analysis:

• Clearly I dream way too much about fit Asian girls... and stairs. 
• Despite taking place at a real location (The RPI Approach) the dream version looked nothing like the actual location. The four foot wall blocking my path seems to be a common theme. Something *always* prevents me from finishing a race in my dreams.
• In real life, I'm actually struggling with losing the excess weight I gained during the COVID19 pandemic . It turns out I need to lose about 19 pounds, so from now on I'm just going to call it "The COVID19". It has a nice ring to it.
• Like usual, the dream finishes without anything being resolved. Did I make it to the top? where was the trainee? More questions raised than answers...

Climbing Back...

The last few years have been a disappointment - at least with respect to my relationship with stairs.

Maybe I'll go into depth on the why and the how of things, but here is the tldr:

With no races to look forward to, I gained 20 lbs and lost some fitness.

Sure, I trained ~4 times per week for the past few year -  including stairs - but it wasn't enough to stave off the COVID weight gain or a moderate decline in fitness.

About a year ago, as COVID was winding down and races started to pick up again, I increased my training, thinking I'd make my comeback sometime later in the year.

But my weight wouldn't budge.

For perspective, I like to be at 172 lbs or lower on race day and during January I hovered around 192-193 lbs... and if I'm truthful, I was up around 194-195 lbs at my peak weight.

Come September, I finally weighed below 190 lbs. I signed up for the Sears Tower race in November thinking that maybe I'd be able to shed a few more pounds and not completely embarrass myself. 

But my weight wouldn't budge.

Still, I signed up for Sears and I wasn't going to back out. At the very least I had gained some of my fitness back and I could use it as a benchmark. 

Fast forward to Halloween and I made the trip to Chicago.

It was hailing. Seriously?!

Fortunately, the bad weather didn't last and I had a few days to train, relax, and experience the city.

The day before the race, I met up with David at Sears to pick up my racing bib. I hadn't seen him since pre-COVID and it was nice to catch up.

After walking around the city, I got back to my hotel room completely exhausted. My throat was scratchy and I had a headache. I took a short nap. My alarm went off just before dinner time. I had planned to meet up with a few other climbers for dinner, but by now I had a fever. Instead I took a couple Tylenol and tried to rest up.

How could this happen 12 hours before the race?

I felt even worse by bedtime, but set my alarm to 4:30 AM anyway. Maybe I'd feel better in the morning.

I didn't.

Racing was out of the question. I wanted to at least attend the race to see the other racers, but between bouts of chills and fevers, I wasn't sure I could get to the Tower let alone climb it. So I stayed in bed.

It was the right choice. The next couple days were spent mostly in bed, though I ventured out a couple times to replenish my dwindling supplies.

I managed to make it back home though the flight was miserable. I ended up missing a couple more days of work, too. So much for the "vacation".

I was disappointed. Not only did I miss the race, but my fitness took a hit as well. I tapered my workouts while traveling specifically so I would stay healthy and be at my best on race day. But instead I ended up resting for an entire week.

Though I was depressed... it somehow flipped a switch. Suddenly I was motivated again.

Motivated enough to change my diet 

Motivated enough to step up my workouts 

Motivated enough to write my first blog post in 4 years.

I've got 74 days until the US championships at Scale the Strat and a solid 15 pounds to lose.

 

Midwest Madness

Welcome to Chicago

This would be my 9^th time racing up the Sears Tower. I’ve spent over 20% of my life training for this race and I’m still not prepared.

I’ve been juggling a lot of stuff recently and I’m not as young as I used to be. At 43, I’m still in good shape - but these days I feel like my age.

The months leading up to the race were stressful. I’ve been steadily working on the new house and finally made the big move in September. Adding to the stress was the fact that I had to do it alone since my SO was out of town dealing with other stressful problems. It also meant I had to get Lance ready for the school year by myself*.

*Lance is in 7^th grade now and is participating in *way* too many extra-curricular activities. I’m chauffeuring him to Band, Stage Band, and Chorus every morning and picking him up from Crew practice after school. Not to mention Tennis, Piano, and the “Music Studio Kids” song and dance troupe. It’s far too much, really, but the kid’s got potential. He’s already 5’ 11” (two inches taller than yours truly) and he’s a beast on the indoor rower for a 12 year old. At the beginning of the crew season, he could probably pull an 8:30 2K on the erg, but I bet he’s closer to 8:00 minutes flat nowadays. By the time he’s an upper classmen, he might even be as fast as I am – but only if he trains hard. He’d rather be playing tennis.

With all that additional stress, it is a wonder I’ve been able to train consistently.

The real problem has been maintaining my weight and recovering from injuries. I’ve struggled to stay below 175 lbs. which I consider the very top of my “race ready” weight range. And regarding injuries, I have a bunch of old chronic issues, but In particular, my piriformis has been a nagging injury and sitting down just makes it worse. Most recently, I injured my hip. I don’t know how it occurred. A week before the race I was sitting down at my desk. When I stood up to take a quick walk, I noticed I was in pain and limping. I chalk it up to weird bad luck. It only curtailed a couple of workouts, so I’m thankful it wasn’t worse.

Fast forward to Sears.

Fitness-wise, I was in good shape but still a few pounds heavy. Plus my hip still wasn’t at 100%. I didn’t think it would impact my performance… but it was still a worry.

I arrived at Sears around 6:15 AM and bumped into a few other climbers I knew from the circuit. Some of us still didn’t have our bibs (including me!) so we had to wait patiently for David Hanley, our sports director, to show up.

I should mention that I didn’t completely know who was going to be at the race, so it was only when David showed up with all the bibs that the lineup became clear. On the men’s side, here was my predicted finish order:

Frank Careno (COL)

Alexis Trujillo (MEX)

Goerge Heimann (GER)

Jesse Berg

Alex Workman

Jason Larson/Mark Henderson (tie)

“Oz” Osborn

Mark Ewell

Josh Duncan

There were a few big-name scratches: Terry Purcell, Justin Stewart, and Sproule Love. Don’t ask me to guess a fantasy finishing order with them in the lineup. All I can say is they’d all be in the hunt for 4^th place if they were present.

On the women’s side, I was grasping at straws. Cindy Harris would likely win but other than her, the remaining podium spots were up for grabs. The big names I knew were Sherri Breese, Meg Santanna, Stephanie Hucko, and Maria Lopez. This is not in any particular order; I just don’t follow the women as closely as I should.

Back to the start line....

Before I began my active stretching, I ran into Mischa from Towerrunning. I still hadn’t payed my annual dues (due to technical difficulties of the website) so I paid him 30 USD to cover the 24 Euro fee.

With my dues taken care of, I completed my active stretching routine and followed it up with a couple rounds of burpees as I made my way to the start line. For the record, the start line is two floors below the “normal” start line. It’s been like this for two (now three) years so perhaps starting in the basement will be the new normal.

I didn’t have my race-ready confidence and I felt like I didn’t belong at the race. However, I needed the points. As long as stayed within a couple spots of Mark Henderson I should be able to maintain my lead in the TowerRunning USA rankings. Theoretically, I could skip the race and still win the USA cup, but doing well here would cement my spot. Anyway, I signed up for the race and I wasn’t going to back out now.

The internationals were up front. Jason, Mark and I discussed who should go next. I wasn’t volunteering because if I went next, it meant I’d likely be passed at the beginning of a race only to re-pass during the later stages. Jason wanted to keep me in his sights, so he wasn’t volunteering to go next either. That left Mark. He didn’t want to right after the internationals, but he *was* willing to go 2^nd.

So I approached Jesse Berg and told him it was a “unanimous” decision for him to go after Goerge. Problem solved!

I did a final round of burpees and a couple minutes later I entered the stairwell.

I set my metronome at 81 BPM. By all accounts, this is one of the slower paces I’ve used at Sears, but after consulting my blog post from last year (the year I got locked out of my room and didn’t have my metronome) that was the pace I planned to use. Considering I was a bit heavier than last year, I figured it should be sufficient. After all, I’d rather be a little slow and have a bit in the tank towards the end of the race. Going out too fast is a death sentence at Sears.

I tried focusing on being efficient for the first few floors. It’s tough to concentrate during a race, but the slow pace made it possible. By the time I hit the 6^th floor Jason had nearly caught up. He tucked in behind me and commented that maybe he went out to fast (probably just to make me feel good so I’d let down my guard).

Together, we climbed into the teens. Slow and steady.

When we reached the lower 20s, I could hear another climber approaching. It turned out to be a kid named Nick Sdrenka (I looked up his name after the race). I say “kid” because I’m twice his age. He’s likely in his early 20s. I don’t know Nick personally, but I did recall him talking with David Hanley after I picked up my bib.

He cruised past Jason and me, but from the sound of his breathing, I could tell he was working harder than we were. Would he last another 70+ floors? From experience, probably not… but you never know. Perhaps this kid was going to be the dark horse of the race.

Jason and I remained together for another decad of floors and once again we found ourselves being passed. This time it was someone we both recognized: Cindy Harris. She was tearing up the stairwell, but I knew it was going to be somewhat short lived. She was breathing quite heavily - but then again, she *always* breathes heavily (it’s kind of her signature mark).

As we approached the lower 40s, Jason had had enough of my slow pace and moved to pass me. As he passed me I mentioned I planned to kick it up a notch at the half way point (lower 50’s). This was more of a defense mechanism of sorts because by now I felt guilty about going out so slow. Jason quickly built a lead of one and a half flights.

By now we had crossed the halfway point (about floor 52) and I took stock of my situation. On one hand, I had already been passed three times so my confidence was shot. On the other hand, I felt relatively fresh. I *knew* I went out too slow. To be honest, I’ve felt worse during my time trial training sessions on the Precor Stepper.

There was only one thing to do: Pick up the pace. I slowly reeled in Jason and together we pulled passed Cindy in the upper 50s.

Now comes the hardest part of the race: The Dead Zone.

With only 40 floors to go, I was well beyond the halfway point, but 40 floors is still a loooong ways to go. If you’ve gone out too fast, the Dead Zone is where you start to bonk. Even if you’ve gone out too slow (like me) the climb becomes painful. Could I go faster? Yes! Did I *want* to go faster? Heck no! The best I could manage was a step* closer to the redline.

*Stairclimbing pun intended.

As I ascended through the 60’s I was climbing nearly on top of Jason. With the 70^th floor approaching, I made my move to pass and a few floors later we caught up with Nick who was being swallowed by the Dead Zone. The fact that he managed to stay ahead for so long means he’s a solid athlete.

In the upper 70’s I had maybe a flight or two on Jason, which meant that he was still technically ahead of me at this point (as he started 10 seconds behind me).

For Jason to win our duel, he just needed to stay with me. For me to win, I’d have to drop him for good… but with just over 20 floors to go, it was going to be an uphill* battle.

*Stairclimbing pun intended.

Time was running out as the final 20 floors should take only 3 minutes or so. The good news is that I was out of the Kill Zone and headed into the Final Sprint*. Furthermore, the stairwell configuration in the final section is a fast and narrow 7/7/7.

*The Final Sprint comes right after the Dead Zone. This is the point where you are able to push past the pain and increase the pace since the finish line is fast approaching. This assumes, of course, that you haven’t already bonked. If you’ve bonked, the Final Sprint just becomes an extension of the Dead Zone.

I muscled up those stairs like a man possessed. I had way too much energy left and I kicked myself for going out to slow. Yes, I was making up time, but with only 10 floors left to go, I knew I had left some time on the table.

As I headed into the mid 90’s I was truly suffering, but I wasn’t about to slow down. I still had energy in the tank, although tapping into it was going to hurt.

I crossed into the 100s and above me I could hear the crowd cheering. Was that Mark finishing? I had nearly forgotten about him… drat, it was going to be a tight finish. I kicked myself again for going out so conservatively.

The final few flights were a bitch. Having sprinted the last 20 floors left me in pain and I couldn’t afford to let up.

I crossed the finish line and stumbled a few steps before putting my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Yes, I felt like crap, but 20 floors of sprinting tends to do that. The silver lining is that my recovery time was pretty quick. Going out too slow for 80 floors tends to do that.

I didn’t mention this before, but I raced without my stop watch. It ran out of batteries a couple days before the race. As such, I had no idea what my time was, although I figured I was nowhere close to my PB. I’d be lucky to break the 15 minute mark.

I walked around for a bit to help recover and asked Mark, Jesse, and Jason about their times. Jason clocked in the lower 15s and I thought I was a good 10 second gap between us, so I figured I would be a few seconds faster. Mark mentioned he was in the lower 15s and I was nearly on top of him when he finished (though I never saw him). Jesse timed himself as just over 15 minutes.

It was real nail biter until we got the official results. See them here.

The biggest upset was that Alexis outsprinted Goerge for the win with both of them beating out the course record holder Frank Carreno who held on for a distant 3^rd place. Among the Americans, Jesse was the fastest (he actually *did* break 15 minutes). I took fifth place narrowly ahead of Jason and Mark.

How did the dark horse fare? Nick finished about 30 seconds behind which means I’d better watch out. If he learns how to pace himself in the stairwell, he could easily drop 30 seconds. Or more.

How did the women do? Cindy Harris won handily. For the rest of the field, the big surprise was newcomer Anna Carlson taking 2^nd place.

Race Grades:

Effort: B- ; My pace for the first 80 floors was too slow (C-) but I made up for some if it by pushing hard during the final 20 floors.

Conditioning: B+ ; I was in decent shape.

Weight: B- ; 170 or less is needed to score an A in this category and I tipped the scales at a heavy 173/174.

Pacing & Technique: B- ; My initial pace wasn’t aggressive enough and I didn’t really change it until I was more than halfway finished… but at least I was able to conserve energy and use most of it up during the sprint. Technique was fair.

Overall: B ; Although I left some time on the table, considering my weight, I’m pleased with the overall result.

Final Thoughts:

I’m relieved that I did as well as I did and pleased that I squeezed ahead of a couple of my rivals. Yes, I could have gone faster, but my game plan was reasonable. I wasn’t in top stairclimbing shape so I’m happy I was closer to the 15 minute mark rather than the 16 minute mark (which I thought was a real possibility). I think the only thing I regret was not picking up the pace earlier in the race. I should have checked my status and adjust my pace at the 30^th floor rather than after the 50^th. I think the reason I didn’t check my status was:

1. I wasn’t confident.
2. Coasting by at a slower pace is waaaay easier.
3. Racing head-to-head with a rival discouraged me from speeding up. In my head I was thinking “Well if this speed is fast enough for Jason, then it must be fast enough for me.”

When I do this race next year, I may consider going out at 83 or possibly 84 BPM if my weight is closer to 170 lb or even 85 BPM if I’m in top condition.

The story doesn’t end here.

When I booked my flight to Chicago, the original plan was to stay in the Midwest and race in Milwaukee a few days after Sears. However, this year the Milwaukee race would be held a week later. Drat.

What is a climber to do? Find another racing venue!

Welcome to Missouri

It turns out there is another well known race in the Midwest called Master the Met in St. Louis. It’s held annually in April (drat!) but it turns out that the stairwell of Met Square is open for public use (yes!). Although I wouldn’t be able to officially take part in Master the Met, I could at least race the course on my own.

I stayed in Chicago overnight and the following day I rented a car to drive down to St. Louis.

St. Louis is surprisingly awesome. It is roughly 3 times the size of Albany so it boasts a decent skyline which is dominated by the Gateway Arch, which I learned is made of fabricated steel, not concrete (I got up real close to verify).

Close-up of the Arch

Although St. Louis has it’s share of sketchy neighborhoods, it also had some fantastic public spaces. During my stay I explored:

• Missouri Botanical Garden (A+): Top notch botanical garden. Highly recommended.
• St. Louis Art Museum (A-): Decent size, nice collection, and free!
• St. Louis Public Library (A+): Wide selection in a historic building.
• Gateway Arch Museum (A-): Small but very detailed and informative. Also free!
• Old Courthouse (A): Beautiful domed architecture and you can climb up to the 3^rd level to see it up close. Plus a small museum. Also free!
• Cherokee St. Antique Row (B): Lots of Antique Shops but sadly only a few were open when I went exploring.

Botanical Garden

Old Court House

There were a few other places that I saw, but didn’t have a chance to fully explore:

• Old Cathedral (note: it should have been open during the time I tried to visit!)
• Forest Park. Think Central Park NYC but bigger. I caught a glimpse of it when I went to the Art Museum.
• Christ Church Cathedral. Next door to the Library.

Last but not least, the surprise hidden gem was the “Apotheosis Comics & Lounge” which is a comic book store... with a bar! The owner is friendly and introduced me to the series “Manifest Destiny”. It’s the story the Lewis & Clark expedition… but with a supernatural twist.

Before I digress too far… the purpose of the trip was to climb up One Metropolitan Square (Met Square) so let’s get on with it.

On Wednesday, I met up with the John Wilmas, the self-proclaimed “Stair Ninja” of St. Louis. I’ve met him once or twice before at Sears, so I gave him a call when I decided to do a time trial at Met Square.

Met Square is a 42 story building with a listed height of 180.7 meters. That makes it the tallest skyscraper in St. Louis and 2^nd tallest in Missouri (1^st place belongs to One Kansas City Place, which is less than 10 meters taller).  Met Square is virtually the same height as the Corning Tower in Albany, my hometown race, so I kind of knew what to expect.

I met John in the lobby of Met Square just past noon. He was already wearing his custom “Stair Ninja” racing kit. John is an office worker in a nearby building but he noonlights as a fitness trainer. If you live in St. Louis, you might run into him if you ever have lunch near the Gateway Arch. He often leads Cross-Fit-esque workouts on the steps leading up to the Arch. In fact, he is in the middle of opening up his own “Stair Ninja” gym. Somehow I imagine the gym will be equal parts Cross Fit and American Ninja Warrior. Plus some stairs.

Met Square is essentially John’s personal stairwell. He works in a nearby office building so when he’s training for stairs, Met Square is his go-to spot (his office building is “merely” 20 stories tall). To get into the stairwell, all that is needed is to sign a waiver at the security desk.

As we prepared to do a warmup lap, John confessed he wasn’t in stair-climbing shape quite yet but planned to do more stair workouts to get ready for the 2020 stair climbing season (which is generally in late winter/early spring). Although he’d be climbing with me, he wouldn’t be exactly “racing”.

I set my metronome to 75 BPM for our warm-up lap. The stairwell layout is a standard two flights per floor with right hand turns. The width is fairly narrow so I was able to grip both sides of the tubular steel rails pretty easily. I also noticed that there isn’t much of a gap between flights so I was able to take the turns quickly. Taken together, this meant that this stairwell would be a fast!

We chatted while climbing and John reminisced about prior editions of Master the Met. Because St. Louis is so close to Springfield, it often attracts top climbers like Terry, Oz, and Justin. Other editions have attracted the legendary Sproule Love since St. Louis just happens to be his home town. For such a “small town” race, it certainly has attracted some top talent over the years.

The stairwell switches up on the 19^th floor (about halfway) so we had to run down a short hallway to get to the next stairwell. The new stairwell continues up to the 42^nd floor, but the actual race finishes on the 40^th floor, so that’s where we exited. It’s actually quite convenient because there is  bathroom right near the elevator. After a short pit stop, we took the elevator back down to the ground floor.

Now I was getting butterflies in my stomach. Although I wouldn’t be in official race, I knew I would be pushing quite hard.

Here is a secret: I *hate* pushing hard. It’s painful. I dread some of my workouts because I know I’ll have to push hard over and over again until I can no longer maintain the prescribed pace. Racing is even worse because you can’t even quit – even when you bonk.

After changing into my racing flats it was go-time.

Sproule owns the record at the Met which is 4:10 flat although Justin has come within a couple seconds of it. Other speedsters, like Terry have come in just under 4:30. In a time trial, I figured I should be able to come in around 4:30. That’s pretty much my goal time in Albany, which is a similar if not longer course.

But what pace to use?

Here is what I knew:

• I didn’t take any measurements of the steps although they felt about 7 inches tall (which is *not* a precise measurement).
• Warm-up lap was 75 BPM and we completed it in a bit over 7 minutes (I don’t remember the exact time)
• Race Pace at Albany is about 120 BPM

I couldn’t do math in my head to ratio 75 BPM with 7 minutes (and change) to figure out what pace to use for a goal time of 4:30, but 120 BPM sounded about right.

So that’s how I set my metronome.

For the time trial, it was decided that I’d go first and John would try to keep up with me for as long as possible. I ended up borrowing John’s fit bit watch since my watch’s batteries were still dead.

I had to restart once because I wasn’t familiar with John’s fit bit, but I finally got it to work.

The first 10 floors were quick and easy and John stayed about a flight or so behind.

When we got to the 13^th floor, however, the pace really started feel brutal. It was the sucker punch you get when you haven’t warmed up properly: things seem fine… until they don’t.

At the 15^th floor, I was struggling, often taking an extra step on the landings. Could I handle three more minutes of this crap? I had my doubts.

I made it to the 19^th floor and ran down the hallway to the next stairwell. Just about halfway through the time trial.

John was likely a couple floors behind by now. When I crossed 21 or 22, I thought I could hear him down below as he crossed over to the next stairwell.

I was suffering, but it would be embarrassing to quit in the middle even if this wasn’t a “real” race. Oddly enough, I felt a little bit better. Likely I was getting my “warm-up” back as my body adjusted to the pace.

Maybe I *could* do this…

By the time I reached the 30^th floor I was climbing slightly faster than my metronome. The pace hurt, but I was handling it. Only 10 floors left! 75% complete! 25% to go*. I got this!

*I know it’s redundant, but that’s how my brain works when climbing stairs.

I increased my pace yet again, madly tearing up each flight. Although I could no longer single step the landings, I made up for it with fury.

As I rounded the 35^th floor (5 floors left, 87.5% complete, 12.5% to go!) I still had energy to spare, but boy was I hurting. The little voice inside my head said, “Hey, this is only a time trial… there is no need to burn yourself out. This isn’t a *real* race”.

In the end, the little voice partly won out as I coasted to the top at my current pace. At least I didn’t slow down.

As I made it to the 40^th floor, I looked down at John’s Fit bit. The screen was blank! Frantically I pressed the touch screen. 4:35… 4:36… 4:37… and I finally stopped it.

I stood there with my hands on my quads and waited for John. Maybe I waited for another 30 seconds? I don’t know since I didn’t restart/continue the fit bit. I’m guessing he finished somewhere in the lower 5s.

We rested for another minute or two before heading back down via the elevator. The time trial took a lot out of me so our next lap would be our last one. I set my metronome at 65 BPM as a cool down. One fast climb was enough!

At the top of the cool-down lap we celebrated with photo. Then I explored the 41^st and 42^nd floors just to see what the rest of the stairwell was like. John told me that during the first few editions of the Master the Met, the race ended on the 42^nd floor, but he rarely goes up that far during training since the doors are always locked*.

*Except for that one time he ran into the cleaning crew and got to see the top floor.

Before our final descent, I took a closer look at the stairwell, specifically the stairwell between the 38^th and 40^th floors (as I didn’t feel like taking the stairs *all* way down).

Holy Crap! The stairwell is a fast 11/11 configuration*! I asked John about the rest of the stairwell and he confirmed that floors 1-19 are somewhat random, but 19-40 are all uniform. Before exiting the stairwell, I did a couple turns just to show John just how fast 11/11 can be. I wish I had used that technique during the time trial.

*IMO 11/11 is the best possible stairwell configuration. You can read about my stairwell analysis and suggested foot placement ad nauseum here.

Time Trial Grades:

Effort: B ; I pushed the pace for most of the time trial but I Iet off the gas with about 5 floors to go.

Conditioning: B+ ; I was still in decent shape and well rested after Sears.

Weight: C+ ; After Sears I switched from a lower sodium diet to a higher sodium (pizza) diet so I’m guessing I was in the 175 lb range.

Pacing & Technique: B ; 120 BPM was challenging. My stairwell technique was passable, but I did not utilize the efficient 11/11 foot pattern.

Overall: B+ ; I’m pleased with my results because it was a solid learning experience. If this was a real race, I would have graded my performance as a B-. There is room to improve in each category.

Final Thoughts:

I suspect I wasn’t fully warmed up prior to the time trial. If I ever come back to Master the Met, I’ll need to make sure I do some sprinting or at least some burpees to get my body accustomed to the fast pace. If I were to race again (at the same weight and conditioning) I would probably bump the pace up to 122 BPM and focus on foot placement for the 11/11 section. I think a good goal would be 4:30 with a  stretch goal of 4:25. I bet a 4:20 flat would be possible if I get my weight under control.

Epilogue:

I hope to someday to come back to Met Square and put my knowledge to good use, but what is a stair climbing trip without a couple of WTF moments?

1. On the outskirts of Chicago, they still have coin operated automatic toll booths on the interstate. Seriously, who carries $2.60 in change these days?!?
2. In St. Louis, they have an eatery called “The St. Louis Bread Company”. It sounded kind of awesome so I tried it for lunch. Big mistake. This cute name is just a disguise for the “Panera Bread” chain*. Normally, I don’t have a beef with Panera  - other than the fact I hate spending $10 for a sandwich - but this particular branch was awful:
• I ordered a soup and waited for well over 10 minutes… only to be told that they were out of soup and I’d have to change my order. I wasn’t happy, but sometimes these things happen unexpectedly. No worries (yet).
• While waiting for my new order, I decided to use the restroom. It was electronically locked with a key pad. The sign above the keypad said to check your receipt for the access code. I pulled out my receipt. No access code. When I inquired at the ordering station, the cashier mentioned that they are supposed to put the code on the receipt… but for some reason they don’t. I wasn’t sure how to reply. That’s like saying, “We have rules, but choose not to follow them”. At least she gave me the bathroom code.
• When my meal finally arrived, it came with a bag of chips instead of the bread that I had ordered. I asked my server about the unexpected (and unwanted) switch she told me that they were out of bread because they were busy earlier in the day. Not only did I doubt that a place named “The St. Louis Bread Company” was out of bread, but I took offense that she thought that giving me something I didn’t order (or even want) *without* asking me beforehand was okay. It’s like going to coffee shop and ordering a cup of decaf… and then purposefully being handed a can of diet coke (not even caffeine free!). It would have been one thing if the server accidently got my order wrong… but she knowingly made the switch even though adequate substitutions were literally right behind the counter. 

That was the third strike. I had enough of this nonsense and finally spoke to the manager to get a piece of bread after waiting 20+ minutes for my “fast casual” meal. Long story short: although they were out of the mini-baguette that they usually serve with meals, apparently they *did* offer a wide variety of other baked goods that they could substitute… you know, because it’s a flipping sandwich shop that makes bread.

*Fun fact: Panera Bread started in St. Louis as “The St. Louis Bread Company” and the original stores in St. Louis have kept that moniker.