Awkward in Albany

You know you fucked up when you crest the *43rd* floor in a race to the *42nd*.

Now, the Albany Corning Tower will always have a special place in my heart because it is where my stair climbing journey began*. But right at this moment? Well, I'm not a fan.

But I'm getting ahead of myself... so let's back up a few steps.

The Lead-up:

For the past few weeks I've been humming along on all cylinders. My weight has been slowly dropping and my fitness has been steadily improving, so going into this race, I felt pretty good. 

While I still need to drop some weight (~8 lbs.) and gain some fitness, I feel like I'm right around 93% of pre-COVID levels. 

So how would this translate into the stairwell?

Considering my best time has been in the low 4:30s, a simple ratio shows that I *should* be able to climb the building in the low 4:50s. 

However, after some further digging, it appears that I've never actually done this race at peak fitness. The traditional CF Corning Tower climb usually conflicts with the Scale the Strat (the US Championship) so I've had to skip it over the past 10 years. The only other time I raced in this building was for the T2T Corning Tower climb back in 2016. While I was in in very good shape, I had the misfortune of starting behind a bunch of fire fighters in full gear which necessarily cost me a bunch of time (but that is a story for another time).

So my only real data point was a 4:33 set way back in March 7th, 2013. 

Digging deeper into my workout history from that time period, it appears my speed back then was only a hair faster than where it is today*. 

*In March 2013, I was a little bit lighter but slightly less fit.

As such, my official goal for the race was to break 5 minutes with a target of 4:40. Anything below 4:40 would be icing.

Pre-Race Rituals:

My penultimate workout prior to the race was done at 105 BPM which translates to about 112 BPM - my proposed race pace at the Corning tower. This was the same setting I used in 2012 when I climbed up in 4:39 and a couple beats slower than what I used in 2013 at my best race (in 4:33). I figured this pace was fast enough to reach my goal, but conservative enough to ensure I wouldn't blow up prematurely.

My training building is much shorter than the Corning tower (~22% of the height), so my normal workout consists of short "sprints" followed by longer rests. Typically, I'll sprint up at 120-125 BPM so reducing my pace to only 105 BPM gave me a much needed reprieve. 

The following day was a planned easy day. Rounds of Pull-ups and Bicep Curls mixed in with easy 3 minute rounds of rowing. Enough to sweat, but not enough to tire me out. 

The night before the race, my friend Tom drove up from Poughkeepsie to spend the night as this would be his first official race. I woke up bright and early and made coffee for us while reviewing the stairwell map one last time:

• 9/10 steps per floor until the 17th floor with left-hand turns
• 10/9 steps per floor until the 42nd floor with right-hand turns
• Jogs on the 17th and 32nd floors to keep it interesting
• Finish on the observation deck of the 42nd floor

A few of the floors - notably the 41st floor had four flights with ~6 or 7 steps each.

We arrived at the Empire State Plaza just after 8:00 AM. While waiting in line for our bibs, I bumped into climbing legend David Tromp, who would be doing his ~23rd Corning Tower Climb. Sadly, he had an injury during COVID and wouldn't be pushing me during this edition of the race*. 

*If you've never heard of David, it's because he mainly does local races. He's climbed the Corning Tower in under 4:30 and ESBRU in under 12:00. The one time he did the Scale the Strat, he did it in 7:32 (like 10 seconds faster than my best). 

Besides stair climbing, the other connection that David and I have is we are both Clarkson graduates... as is my friend Tom (and roommate Junior year). As it turns out, David recognized Tom since they were in the same service fraternity. 

But wait, there is more! I also ran into my old coworker, Maria, while warming up. She was one of my early influences in the gym - showing me squats, lunges, and the dreaded jumping lunges. I hadn't seen her in over a decade!

As the clock approached 9:00 AM, I executed my active stretch routine immediately followed by sets of 12 burpees every three minutes. I probably did 4 or 5 rounds of burpees before heading upstairs* to the start line. Right at 9:00 AM, the MC of the event - U Albany Head Coach, Dwayne Killings - kicked off an introduction on behalf of the LLS. I did another 3 rounds of burpees in the background (and for the record, Coach Killings did say we could continue stretching).

*There is a huge underground mall beneath the Empire State Plaza and the entrance to the Corning Tower (at least the one that I know of) starts here. So the first floor is actually a level above.

The Race:

I set my metronome to 112 BPM and entered the stairwell at exactly 9:10. I quickly pressed the touchscreen of my apple watch knockoff to start the timer.

I hadn't been in the stairwell in 8 years, so it wasn't exactly how I pictured it. The rails are tubular but more chrome than I remember, like something that might be at home in a 50's themed diner. While the rails are close enough to grip both comfortably, they seem to flair out around the turns on the landing. The 112 BPM pace felt "easy" for the first 10 floors, but I just couldn't focus on taking the turns efficiently and more often then not, I added an extra footfall on the landings.

The most noticeable thing however, was the LOUD music playing at various stops. Sometimes I could hear David (who I believe started 10 seconds behind me) but at other times, I couldn't even hear my metronome beeping out it's steady rhythm. 

I hit floor 17 which I knew has a short hallway that leads into a different stairwell. However, the stairwell begins off of a blind corner and... of course I ran right by it!

I saw the stairwell fly right by me on the left while the volunteer at this juncture frantically pointed toward the stairs. I dropped maybe a second as I lost all of my running momentum. I quickly backed up a step and turned left into the new stairwell.

I entered the 20s knowing I was halfway to the top and annoyed at my literal misstep. While I continued to march to the pace of my metronome, I felt like I was bleeding time on the turns - especially since the pace was becoming brutal.

By the time I reached the 30th floor I was officially in pain. I knew I should pick up the pace as the race was entering the final phase, but instead waited until I hit the 32nd floor. Here there is an even shorter jog to yet another stairwell. Fortunately, this time I didn't miss it.

With 10 floors to go, I finally started to dig in. While my turns were sloppy, I managed to climb ahead of my metronome on the flights. 

By the 36th floor, my legs and arms were aching from the strain. I glanced down at my watch. Honestly, I have no idea what I saw, but it didn't look good. Maybe I saw it crossing the 4 minute mark? I couldn't completely process it, but I do remember thinking it was odd that I lacked the ability to do any sort of estimation. Regardless, I *felt* like my goal time of 4:40 was out of reach and if I didn't push harder, I could possibly miss the 5 minute mark, too.

I hit the 40th floor glad that the race was nearing it's end, but still wishing I had pushed a little harder and took the turns a little more aggressively earlier in the race. I bolted up the remaining six flights (two for the 41st and 4 for the 42nd) as hard as possible*.

*The last few flights are always really weird - especially when you've held a little bit back. On one hand, I still had a little bit of energy left. But on the other hand, using up that remaining energy was *painful*. My arms and legs were chewed up and my lungs were on fire. Try as I might, I couldn't get my body to sprint all out despite having something left in the tank.

Finally, I crested the 42nd floor. I just had to get to the end of the hallway and through the open door.

And here is where everything fell apart.

I was completely alone in the hallway and nearly spent. I dashed down the hallway. The doorway was on my right and on my left was yet another stairwell. I crossed the threshold of the doorway expecting to see the finish line, but instead it was just an empty room. 

"Hello?" I called out.

Silence.

There was another doorway at the far end of the room and an open stairwell right behind me.

"Shit." I thought to myself. "Nobody is here. They must have changed the finish line."

I quickly dashed out of the room and up the stairs.

Fuck. I was unprepared to climb another floor and of course this was another one of those long four-flight floors.

I crested the 43rd floor and the door was closed shut. More stairs. What the fuck?

I was in a complete daze and all hopes of breaking the 5 minute barrier were dashed. My nightmares of stair-climbing had somehow come to life*.

*When I dream about tower racing, I *always* get lost or have some strange barrier blocking my way. Rarely do I finish and most of the time I'm climbing in slow motion.

With nowhere to go, I continued my ascent. After a flight or two up I stopped. The finish line couldn't possibly be on the roof. It *must* be on the 42nd floor because that is where the observation deck is. Maybe the finish line was just beyond that empty room?

Quickly, I turned around and then proceeded to stumble down the 5 or 6 flights I had just climbed.

I reached the empty room and ran to the doorway at the opposite end.

Sure enough, there was the finish line. It was literally just beyond the next doorway. I didn't even have time to start running again.

"Congratulations!", called out one of the volunteers.

I was furious. I leaned against the wall and with my last remaining energy I said something like: "What the hell*? I ended up climbing past the 43rd floor! Where were the volunteers? And why wasn't the stairwell blocked off. You really gotta get someone out there...".

*I'm somewhat proud of myself for not dropping an F-bomb or two.

Energy spent, I stopped my watch slumped to the floor. By now it said 5:36. Another kick below the belt.

I lay on the ground for perhaps 30 seconds. I was equal parts tired and angry. How could this happen?

I got up and stormed my way around the observation deck. Slowly, I began to process what had just occurred.

I was irked that I didn't break the 5 minute mark. I was irritated that I messed up the turn on the 17th floor. I was disappointed with myself for having an uninspired sloppy-turned race. I was angry at the volunteers for ghosting the 42nd floor and at myself for royally blundering the finish. Last of all, I wasn't happy with myself for chastising the volunteers. Yes, they messed up... but the fact is they are *volunteers*. It would be a different story if this was a for-profit race like the ESBRU and managed by professionals.

At the end of my walk, I snapped a few pictures from the observation deck. After all, I was in the tallest building in New York outside of NYC and why let a tune-up race ruin my day?

I headed back down the elevator for my second round with Tom.

Tom's Climb

Tom was in the last wave so we still had a little time to chat. When I told him my story he was incredulous that the stairwell wasn't blocked off at the finish.

Meanwhile, it was time to warm up. I did a few more rounds of burpees while Tom - significantly taller and with his "big man" knees opted for jumping jacks. 

Like, I know that some stair climbers opt for a super-low resting heart rate on the start line, but I'm personally convinced that the body needs a proper warm-up. Like, not just the muscles being nice and supple, but that the heart rate also has to climb up to the point of being slightly uncomfortable. 

Tom's goal was to break the 10 minute mark and he positioned himself last in line. Rather than starting 10 seconds behind the next-to-last climber, he was able to wait for 30 seconds in the hopes of getting a slightly less congested stairwell.

I set the metronome at 60 BPM and entered right behind Tom*.

*special thanks to David for speaking with his friends a the Albany Running Exchange (the timers) so I could get in a 2nd climb.

I quickly realized that climbing behind Tom wasn't a great idea as it is harder to set the pace from behind. So by the 4th floor, I passed by and started harping on Tom to hug the turns for efficiency*. 

*I mean, if I messed them up during my race, I might as well fix that problem for my friend.

However by the time we reached the 5th floor we began reeling in some of the slower climbers and it was a challenge just to weave out of traffic and keep Tom behind me.

By the 10th floor, I could tell Tom was starting to falter just a little bit, though he was still more or less double stepping and keeping up.

We reached the first checkpoint on the 17th floor a decent clip and this time I darted into the stairwell without any trouble.

As we climbed into the 20s, Tom was having a hard time passing the people we reeled in and by the 24th floor he wanted to stop for a brief respite.

Heck no! I told him to keep moving even if he had to single step.

As we approached the final checkpoint on the 32nd floor, I glanced down at my watch. 7:30. This time around I could do the math. As we were roughly 75% of the way up the building, we're just barely on pace to break the 10 minute barrier.

But we were clearly slowing down.

I started counting down the floors yelling things like "Push harder, only 7 floors to go!" and "You got this, just one last sprint!".

We had picked up a small grupetto by this point and I later learned that my words of encouragement helped a couple others get to the top.

Finally I could see the 42nd floor up ahead, but Tom had really struggled. Sub 10 was out of reach, but maybe we could squeak under 11.

"Go go go!" I yelled.

Now that I could see the hallway on the 42nd floor, I whipped out my phone to take a quick video of Tom's finish.

As he crossed the finish line, I hopped back out into the hallway to get a good look at the final floor (more on that later).

After exploring the hallway and the upper levels, I went back to the observation deck to look for Tom... but he was nowhere to be found. I walked the entire circuit forwards and backwards. Where was he?

Just as I was about to leave, I found him on one of the medical stretchers. The head EMT was keeping a close watch on him. 

Tom appeared to be in good spirits, but the EMT had serious look on his face. Tom had apparently over-exerted himself and had several symptoms of heart attack (shortness of breath, pain in the chest, clammy hands) and were performing a stress test.

Fortunately, Tom seemed fine after resting on the gurney and after another few minutes was able to peel off all the EKG electrodes (I think that's what all the round sticky patches are called).

Meanwhile, the timing desk was right next to the EMT station so asked the timers for our official times.

I finished in 5:25 and Tom in 10:45.

While neither of us reached our official goals we both still did quite well. I ended up as the fastest climber and Tom finished in the top 25% (46 of 203 climbers).

Aftermath

While still unhappy about the mix-up at the finish line, there is no reason to let it ruin a fine spring day. Here are few highlights:

• Walking to Lark Street
• Dove & Hudson Used Bookstore
• "Towers of Midnight" (WoT book 13 by Robert Jordan)
• "V for Vandetta" (Graphic Novel by Alan Moore)
• "Bulfinch's Mythology" (eponymously named after Thomas Bulfinch)
• Lunch at Sukhothai Restaurant
• Disc Golf at Blatnick Park (overlooking the Mohawk River)

Grades:

Effort: B minus - Timid until the 32nd floor, especially on the turns.

Weight: B minus - At 178 lbs., I'm getting closer to my 170 lbs. target.

Pacing & Technique: C minus - Those turns. Ugh. Pacing was a little too conservative.

Overall: C plus - This was a forgettable race even when ignoring the screw-up at the end. 

Final Thoughts:

I don't want to be remembered as the prima donna of stair-climbing. While bad things seem to follow me around in the stairwell, there is no reason why I should let it impact others surrounding me - especially the other climbers & volunteers. While I don't think I overreacted at the finish line, there have been other times where I've made more of a scene. While completely (or at least mostly) justified, it just makes me look like an asshole. After all, I suspect that most people at these climbs treat them as novelty events rather than athletic races.

The question is, why does trouble seem to follow me around? After all, I can think of several examples off the top of my head where the finish line has been messed up.

• Albany Big Climb (Stairwell not blocked, no directions)
• Boston FFA Climb (Told to get off at wrong floor)
• Milwaukee CF (Doors locked)
• Chicago CF (Doors locked)

In Albany & Boston, I was the only impacted athlete. In Milwaukee, it was the top two athletes. In Chicago, at least a dozen athletes got lost.

What these races share in common is that I was the first athlete (or in the case of the Chicago one of the first few athletes) to get to the top of the building. My theory is that the race organizers simply weren't ready to receive the athletes. After I got to the top, it served as a wake up call to get their shit together and the problem was fixed for (most of) the others finishing after me.

This happens more frequently than you might expect. Assuming I've done about 80 races (~10 years of climbing with ~8 races per year) these screw-ups happen roughly 5% (i.e. 4/80) of the time

Sadly, most of these instances could have been prevented by arriving early and previewing the stairwell - specifically at the top. I've actually posted about this before and it's painful that I failed to take my own advice.

After the race, I spent a long time analyzing what exactly happened at the end of the race. Here are my thoughts.

When I reached the 42nd floor, I was extremely fatigued and lacked the mental alacrity to make sound decisions. Furthermore, since I haven't done this race in eight years I barely recall the top of the stairwell. While I created a stairwell "map" and knew what to expect regarding step count, flights, and changeovers, I didn't remember the actual exit or the empty room. 

Another thing that sticks out is that I was completely aware of which floor I was on and distinctly remember counting down the final 4-flights between the 41st and 42nd floors. But on the other hand, the actual position of the doorway on the 42nd floor and the entrance to the 43rd stairwell are *completely* different from what I recall during the race. In other words, my memory during the race is not 100% accurate. 

Here are some pictures that I took to get a feel of the end of the race:

Last flight leading up the 42nd floor. Left hand turn on the 42nd leads to the hallway shown in the next picture.

Final hallway. The door on the right leads to an empty room. The 2nd landing of stairwell up to the 43rd & 44th floor (roof?) is above the doorway.

A closer look at the entrance to the stairwell and the doorway. Notice the volunteer blocking it off. Notice that you'd get to the stairwell *before* you reach the doorway.

Closeup of the doorway

The empty room. Photo taken while standing on the threshold of the previous doorway. During the race, I expected to see the finish line here rather than just an empty room. This is the exact spot where I called out to see if I was going the correct way... and nobody responded.

So I turned around and of course the stairwell leading up to the 43rd floor was right behind me... so in the confusion I started climbing up. 

Had I only walked just two more steps... I would have seen the finish line. It was literally only 10 feet away, but it was completely hidden from my viewpoint If my mind wasn't so addled, I probably would have checked the obvious OPEN DOOR 🤷.

So how much time did I actually lose? it is hard to tell, but I can make some estimates.

First off, the layout of the stairwell beyond the 42nd floor is:

43 - 6/7/7/7

44 - 8/8/8/8

While I know I continued climbing past the 43rd floor, I turned around before reaching the 44th floor. I might have climbed 2 more flights, but to be conservative, let's say I turned around on the first landing. That means I climbed 35 extra steps (6+7+7+7+8).

Now let's estimate that I climbed the Corning Tower in 5 minutes (300 seconds). As the building has 828 steps (not 809 as published), that means it took me on average 300 seconds / 828 steps = 0.36 seconds per step. Since I climbed an extra 35 steps, it would have taken me 0.36 x 35 steps = 12.6 seconds.

Estimating the descent is a little trickier. From experience, I know that it takes me nearly twice as long to descend than to ascend a stairwell. However, I'm usually racing while going up and resting while going down. So maybe during the race, my descent was roughly equal to my ascent? That estimate can't be too far off. 

So altogether that would mean I spent ~25 seconds going up and down those steps, which means I likely would have broken the 5 minute mark.

Realistically, though, I suspect I was more in the neighborhood of 4:50. I spent a few seconds paused in confusion, calling out to see where the finish line was. Furthermore, when I finally turned around, I was no longer climbing with a sense of urgency. But like I said, my memory of the race doesn't necessarily line up with reality. So who knows?

Next year I'll redeem myself.

 

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.