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.