Detroit, Detroit!

Less than a week after Sears, I drove to the Detroit suburb of Southfield, to climb up 3000 Town Center. Standing at 122 meters with 32 floors, it is the 2nd tallest building in Michigan outside of Detroit.

It was a charity event to benefit The Gift of Adoption and while the event is relatively tiny and unassuming, it has attracted many well-known climbers. Likely because it's the last climb of the year and scheduled a mere week after Sears. In fact, in prior years, Southfield and Sears were scheduled on back-to-back days. Check out Stair Life for a comprehensive list of fast climbers who've participated.

At the beginning of the Season, after moderate success at Bop to the Top and the US Championship at Hustle up the Hancock, I realized that while I was slowly getting back to form, I was nearing the twilight of my racing career. In prior years (pre-COVID) I focused on the most competitive races in the country and only a handful of local climbs in the Northeast. I've been to very few other climbs outside of the Northeast and I knew that I would regret skipping these climbs while I was still relatively fast.

Rather than retire, I added a bunch of new climbs to my schedule. Technically starting with Bop to the Top (to see if I still had some speed) and then adding Pittsburgh, Buffalo, Providence, Rochester, The Space Needle, and now finally Southfield.

I got faster as the season progressed, but it wasn't all smooth sailing. Most notably, I lost a duel in Providence with Troy Alston to see who's faster. By a mere two seconds. I wasn't happy; it was the shortest race I've ever done (even shorter than Bennington) which plays right into Troy's strengths. I should've seen the loss coming.

But as luck would have it, Troy climbed Southfield last year and set the American Course Record in the single climb. That gave me one last chance for redemption. While it wouldn't be a head-to-head matchup... It was a perfect opportunity to take the American Course Record for myself.

Did you find it strange that I referred to it as the "American" Course Record? That's because the overall Course Record belongs to Wai Ching Soh, the current #1 climber in the world. He's literally 15% faster than I am... so in my mind Wai Ching's record was too far out of reach. For illustrative purposes, here is a list of the fastest times up the building (under 3 minutes)**:

1. 2:24.1 - Soh Wai Ching, 27, 2021
2. 2:36.1 - Troy Alston, 37, 2024
3. 2:50.5 - Cole Hetzel, 18, 2021
4. 2:52.3 - Chris Hoffman, 32, 2021

**All these names should be familiar to you if you follow competitive stair climbing. A few other well known names just outside this list are Josh Duncan, Mark Henderson, Steve Marsalese, and Jill Paha.

I set my goal time of 2:30 which gave me a solid 6 second buffer if I started to struggle.

I did my homework during the week between Sears and Southfield. As previously mentioned, 3000 Town Center is 122 meters tall, but we'd only be climbing to the 28th floor. You can tell from its boxy shape that the floors are uniform and the roof is just above the top floor (i.e. no extra height due to antennae or other nonsense). As such, the race should only have 103 meters of ascent. The stairwell is a uniform 10/10 configuration across 27 floors (i.e. ground floor to the 28th floor) with 540 total steps. Therefore, the steps should be ~7.5 inches tall (which Josh later confirmed with a tape measure).

Photo courtesy J. Jacket

Now that the geometry is well understood, there are a few different ways to approach the 10/10 stairwell configuration from a technique standpoint:

#1: Take double steps at all times. even around the turns. The fewest footfalls, but the turns are very challenging. 

#2: Take an extra footfall on the landings. Similarly, you could keep a single footfall on the landings, but take single steps before & after the landings. Not much difference. In both variations, the turns are quite easy at the expense of taking an extra footfall.

#3: Take double steps on the first flight, but take a single step after the landing, the switch to double steps and then finally a single step up to the next landing. That is: double-double-double-double-double (landing) single-double-double-double-double-single (landing) repeat. Essentially a mix of the first two options.

As my goal time was 2:30 that meant my metronome pace (beats/footfalls per minute) for the different options were as follows:

#1: 108 BPM--> 108 beats/min x 2.5 min x 2 steps/beat = 540 steps
#2: 130 BPM --> 130 beats/min x 2.5 min x (10 steps / 6 beats) = 541.67 steps 
#3: 119 BPM --> 119 beats/min x 2.5 min x (20 steps/11 beats) = 541 steps

I felt option #1 would be too difficult to maintain on the upper floors. When tired, it's too easy to miss steps and start placing both feet on the landings (essentially option #2, but now slower). I also nixed option #3. While on paper, it is a good compromise, it's hard to execute** without practice.

**Honestly, did you have trouble following option 3? I had trouble writing it... so imagine trying to execute it without practice.

That left only option #2. 130 BPM is a brutal pace, but I figured that with the "easy" turns, I could focus solely on climbing.

The climb started at 9:30 AM with the doors opening at 8:30 AM. That meant I was able to wake up at a reasonable hour and have time for a light breakfast (Coffee + English muffin with PB&J). At 8:20 I was out the door and I power walked over to the building.

At the race, I quickly checked in. But just like in prior years, despite the small size of the event, there were quite a few competitive climbers: Josh, Steve M, Steve C, Todd, Dale, Z, Jill, Debbie, Nicole, and Michelle.

After saying a few "hellos" I did a practice/warm-up climb at half (65 BPM) pace. As my goal was 2:30 for the race, I wanted to make sure that at half speed, I'd reach the top in about 5 minutes. Plus I wanted to scout the stairwell - verifying the 10/10 configuration and finish line on the 28th floor.

Five minutes later - technically 4:55 later - I found myself on the 28th floor. The stairwell was indeed a uniform 10/10 configuration with the finish line just past the doorway. I took the elevator back down to the bottom for some more practice.

Back in the stairwell, I set my metronome to my planned race pace: 130 BPM. If you read my last post about Sears Tower, you'll note my old metronome finally broke and I borrowed Jill's Garmin watch. This time, however, I used the "Click" metronome app via my Apple watch. While it technically works... it turns off automatically when I start climbing (specifically it only works while my wrist is in position to look at the watch face). Plus it's slightly buggy - it doesn't always turn on when I switch between apps. The workaround is to turn on the metronome and listen to it for a few seconds until I internalize the beat. This method works reasonably well... but the metronome no longer serves as a task master. The internal rhythm eventually drifts away from the original beat. In my experience it naturally slows down as fatigue sets in unless you consciously push to go faster.

Now back to the stairwell... I didn't dare keep the 130 BPM pace for very long so I decided to take a break on the 6th floor. The pace was fast but I could handle it over such a short distance. With the extra planned footfall on the landings, the turns were pretty easy to execute. The question was, could I handle the pace over the course of 27 floors? 

As I rested on the 6th floor, another climber passed me. It was #15. Josh mentioned that there was a fast firefighter climbing without gear and I suspected that's who it was (which I later confirmed was Chris Saadatjoo).

After nearly a minute of rest, I took off again at race pace for another 5 floors. At the 11th floor I rested a moment and then descended on foot. The 130 BPM pace felt manageable and the turns clean. I felt ready.

Back downstairs again, I switched into my racing flats. I asked the timer to climb first and to give me a long heads up before the 9:30 start time. Meanwhile, it was time for the pre-race introductions and announcements. I skirted off to the side to continue my warmups**. First some active stretches followed by some burpees. Plus a quick trip to the restroom.

** Under normal circumstances, I'd listen patiently to the announcements and introductions, but pre-race, I don't take any chances. My best practice is to stay warmed up and jack up my heart rate with burpees up until just a few minutes to start. 

Finally we lined up. I had already started up Strava but my metronome app wasn't playing along. I restarted the app a couple times and that did the trick. I listened to the beat for a solid 30 seconds to internalize it before switching to my stop watch. The timer gave the ten second warning as I tapped my foot to what I hoped was 130 BPM. Otherwise I kept motionless in order to make sure I didn't accidentally move my wrist and turn off the touchscreen**. 

Remaining photos courtesy of Jan Paha

**I love my Apple watch and all, but I really have to get a proper metronome and maybe even a stopwatch.

Showtime!

I darted into the stairwell climbing at 130 BPM. I tried to stay focused. I knew that If I just kept up my pace, I'd finish in 2:30... but to do so, I couldn't afford to slow down or make many errors.

I mostly stayed on the inner rail as I climbed. 130 BPM is quick, but the extra step on the landing made the turns quite easy. Getting into the zone, I didn't look up until I hit the 10th floor.

Ten floors was the easy part. My practice stairwell is about that height and has more difficult turns and taller steps. In fact, I usually climb even faster at 135+ BPM. The problem is that the race course is about triple the height of my practice stairwell and I know from experience that I can only maintain this kind of speed for about two minutes before fatigue sets in.

I hit the 15th floor without any kind of problem. I hadn't taken any extra footfalls and I was still consciously pushing the pace so that I wouldn't subconsciously slow down. 

More than halfway!

I rounded the 20th floor. I accidentally took a single step around one of the landings, but I didn't panic. I ought to have a 6 second buffer and one extra footfall would hardly eat into that. I quickly reset my pattern on the next flight.

I was quickly approaching my limit. What I hoped was still a 130 BPM pace was becoming difficult to maintain. But I had only 8 floors to go. Even less than my practice building.

I hit the 22nd floor. This was my "go" point. Instead of pushing the pace simply to counteract my natural tendency to slow down, I pushed the pace to go even faster.
Right then and there I knew that I'd break the American Course Record. It would be painful, but the record was going to be mine.

I had another misstep on the landing leading up to the 24th floor, but it didn't matter. I was back on track on the 24th floor. My lungs were on fire and my legs were burning from lactic acid. Yet with 4 floors remaining, I didn't let up. 

Up to the 25th floor. Then the 26th. Speedwise, I was at my limit. I'm guessing I was pulling 140 BPM @ 650 watts?

I couldn't keep this up for much longer, but I didn't need to. I powered up the last few flights using both handrails in an effort to eke out a little more speed.

I flew out of the stairwell and across the finish line. I fiddled with my watch for a moment** before hitting the stop button. 2:33.

**F'ing Apple

I broke the American Course Record! I guessed my official time would be in the neighborhood of 2:31 which was right on target.

I was ecstatically happy for a solid 3 seconds. Then reality set in.

Did I forget to mention I signed up for the *power hour race*, not the single climb

That meant I had to climb this building over and over again for the next 57 minutes. I wanted nothing more than to collapse to the floor and rest, but instead I stumbled down the hallway towards the elevator bank. As the first climber, I had the first elevator all to myself. I kind of slumped to the floor on the way down, but as soon as the door opened up again, I picked myself up and jogged shuffled back to the stairwell. The ride down was maybe 30 seconds long, certainly not long enough to recover after giving the first lap nearly my all.

I set my metronome up for 80 BPM. It wasn't easy as the "Click" app is wonky AF and I was still woozy from the first climb. Before the race, I calculated that 85 BPM would get me to the top in just under 4 minutes just fast enough to get in 13 laps. For my 2nd lap, however, I planned to go a little slower in order to recover.

I got into the stairwell. Immediately I knew that 80 BPM wasn't feasible. My heart rate was still jacked and my legs were leaden. After a couple floors I slowed down to something like 60 BPM (my best guesstimate). What had I gotten myself into?

I climbed in a fugue state for the next dozen floors. Despite the glacial pace I was barely recovering. However, I eventually reached a state where my body was in pain but my mind was coherent. I could hear another climber coming from below. It was #15, the fast firefighter. At this point I knew he'd handily win the power hour, but I had to at least confirm that I won the sprint. Weirdly, I had enough energy to speak properly, but not enough to climb any faster. I asked him his time. I think he said 2:46? Anyway, Chris passed right on by.

Miraculously, I made it to the top. Well over 5 minutes. My first climb was literally more than twice as fast. I trotted back to the elevator and as luck would have it, I missed the elevator and spent an extra ~10 seconds for the next one. Let's just add some salt to the wound.

The elevator ride down was still too short for much of a rest, but compared to the previous climb, my heart rate actually went down somewhat. I entered the stairwell again for my 3rd ascent. I bumped my metronome up to 85 BPM, but I couldn't hold it for more than a few floors. I likely dropped it down to something like 65 or 70 BPM. Still not very fast, but at least it got me to the top in under 5 minutes.

The next few laps were more of the same. Gradually, my ascent times were coming down to the mid 4's, but it was a far cry from the sub-4's I initially targeted.

The stairwell wasn't crowded as there were only 25 of us doing the power hour**. But every lap I'd pass a few people. It was easy to say "Hi Debbie!" or "Hi Dale" but my body was essentially stuck in 2nd gear. My heartrate was well under max, but constantly in the uncomfortable zone. Every time I tried going a little bit faster, I felt like crap. Maintainable for a single lap, but then I'd be in such rough shape, it would be just like repeating the 2nd lap. No way.

**The single climb used  a different (but geometrically similar) stairwell which was likely already finished by now. 

Weirdly, I passed Nicole on my 5th lap or so. She's pretty fast, so I found it strange that I had already caught up**. We climbed together for a few floors but then I slowly pulled away. 

**I'd later learn she wasn't feeling well.

Later on - I had lost track of laps by now - Jill caught up to me. At first I thought she might've lapped me, but after I thought about it, we were actually on the same lap. It's just that I started ahead of her in the first place.

I was not using my metronome at this point, seeing how it was unlikely to keep up for any significant duration. Instead, Jill served as the pacemaker. Fortunately, I could keep up. Barely. While I never fully recovered from the first climb, I was steadily improving.

We did the few remaining laps together. Seemingly getting a little faster with each climb, though at some point we were still lapped by Chris the aforementioned fast firefighter. I had no idea what lap I was on at any given moment, but after each lap I did get a chance to see the clock at the stairwell entrance. It was steadily inching towards 10:30 AM - the end of the power-hour.

Finally, it was time for one last lap. I entered the stairwell and began my last ascent. But where was Jill? 

Shoot. I realized I made a mistake. If you really want to do well in a Power Hour, you run out the clock and enter the stairwell just before the end of the hour. As long as you get into the stairwell before the clock runs out, your last lap will count (e.g. 59:59:59 counts... 60:00:01 doesn't). That way, if you have any extra time on the clock before the hour is up, you are able to use it to recover a bit more for your final - hopefully fast - lap. I had like 3-4 minutes on the clock. Oh well.

For the first half, I maintained the same pace Jill and I had used for the past few laps. I'm guessing like 75-80 BPM? But once I got to the 15th floor, I started to let loose. While it was a far cry from the 130 BPM I used on the first lap, maybe I topped out somewhere between 90 - 100 BPM? Anyway, it was enough to make me very uncomfortable, but with only a dozen or so floors, it was manageable. I got to the top tired, but not overtaxed. While I felt like crap, I felt so much better than I did earlier in the race. I might have finally broken 4 minutes? LOL.

After a few minutes of hanging out at the top, I eventually took the elevator back down. They had a nice continental breakfast spread... but they were already dismantling it. I quickly grabbed a bagel before it was gone for good.

Finally a chance to catch up with all the other climbers - including Steve Marsalese who I never encountered in the stairwell. Apparently I was going just fast enough to keep ahead of him. 

Likewise, I met up with the Power Hour winner Chris Saadatjoo. He had a strong debut climb without gear. Here are my initial impressions: First, he stands maybe a little bit taller than I am, but is a solid 12 pounds heavier (185 lbs.) yet still lean. I'm guessing his BMI is about the same as mine, possibly even a little higher. That's pretty impressive. Secondly, his single climb was quite fast (2:43.6 official) and it was followed up by an American Course Record for Power Hour**. I honestly don't know if I could've pulled that off if I had a slightly conservative first climb. Lastly, it's quite clear that Chris would be one of the top climbers on the circuit if he decided to climb without gear. Let's hope he does a few non-gear climbs in the near future.

** Sadly, this race had timing issues. Due to a malfunction at the top lasting ~15 minutes, it was impossible (according to the timers) to calculate ascent times. As such, only the full lap times were listed (which include intentional or unintentional breaks). So we'll never know if Chris's 12 ascent victory was faster than Mark Henderson's record. But honestly, I believe Chris's overall ascent time was a little bit faster.

Final Thoughts: 
Power Hours are a different breed of race. In the case where it's combined with a single climb, you need to pick your poison: Do a fast first lap and have a slower power hour? or ignore the single climb to focus on consistent power hour laps? This was only my 2nd foray into this type of event and I underestimated just how deep in debt I'd be if I pushed my first lap. Maybe I'm just not suited for this kind of double headed format? Regardless, I felt stuck in 2nd gear for most of the power hour. It was a weird feeling close to bonking (a really icky feeling) but also capable of speech. While it was always possible to go faster (at least after the 2nd lap) the lack of willingness to suffer for an extended period of time kept it out of reach. It was as if I spent all my willpower on the first climb and had nothing left.

My heart rate during the race is shown in the graph below. The first two thin spikes are actually my pre-race burpees. The first spike during the race is actually a combination of my first two climbs - it appears my heart rate remained elevated during the "rest" on the elevator ride down. It also appears that my heart rate never climbed above 160 BPM on the first lap, likely due to heart rate lag during such a short climb. In a longer climb, it usually peaks at 173 or so after a few minutes. Lastly, my heart rate hovered around 140 BPM (drifting upwards as time progressed) during the breaks which is way higher than my normal rest breaks... and typically peaked around 160 BPM which is well below my maximum. In other words, during the power hour I was constantly miserable, but never really pushing myself.

Consider this: My official time of 2:28.4 is very close to Wai Ching's single climb record of 2:24.1. However, after that he managed 14 more climbs averaging 3:13 appiece. That's over a minute faster than my lap times... and 4 more laps to boot. I'm sure part of it is being able to recover from such an exertion in the first place and part of it is not overdoing it on the first lap. My guess is that Wai Ching could climb the building in roughly 2:05 if he went "all out" on the single climb. He's really impressive.

Regarding the overall course record, I was actually within striking distance. If I could redo the race knowing what I know now, I would've gone as fast as possible. However, that wasn't my goal. Tactically, I was focused on beating a record, not going as fast as possible. These are two very different things.

To beat a record - especially one you are somewhat confident in breaking - it's 60% about finding the right pace, 30% about mental fortitude to keep that pace when it starts getting tough, and 10% about aggression (pushing harder) despite the pain.

Going as fast as possible, on the other hand, is only 20% about knowing the right pace. The rest is evenly split around pushing hard and the mental fortitude required to keep going when it hurts. While it improves the odds of having your "best" time, it also increases the odds of flaming out before you get to the finish line (fly and die).

The two scenarios above are generalizations. They obviously converge if you are chasing a time that is at the very tip of your capability. Like, if I wanted to break 2:20, I'd seriously have to take some risk in order to achieve it. Possible? yes. Probable? no. There would be a good chance that I'd bonk in the 20s and my time would be over 2:40 once my legs stopped working.

If I do come back, it won't be to break the single climb record. Instead, I'd focus solely on the power hour. I'd need either 3:35 ascents to have a shot at 14 laps or just under 4 minutes for 13 as long as the descents were just under a minute on average (very iffy).

Grades: (Single/Power Hour)
Fitness: A minus - Very close to pre-COVID levels.
Weight: A minus - I'm around 171 which is a good race weight. The final goal is just below 170, though 165 would be a dream come true.
Effort: A / B minus - Strong effort for the Single climb. I was not ready for the suffering during the power hour and I just didn't force it.
Pacing & Technique: A / C minus - 130 BPM was perfect for the single climb and I only had a couple of missteps. The power hour was a different beast and not in a good way.
Overall: A / B minus - Very happy about the single climb. Not a very good performance in the power hour. Partly because I was already cooked, but also because I didn't really push hard. Admittedly, I was fine with just finishing the power hour after accomplishing my goal for the single climb.

Chicago, Chicago!

Once upon a time, there was a 35 year old named Alex. He started climbing stairs competitively because he thought he was pretty good at it. He did some research and found the tallest and most competitive race in the country. It was the Sears Tower and he flew to Chicago to race up the building. He reached the top in 16:52. The winning time was 13:03. 

It turns out there were a *lot* of faster climbers.

Alex flew back to Albany and trained really hard. The next year he climbed Sears in 15:13. It was a big improvement, but still slower than the best climbers.

So Alex flew back to Albany and trained really hard.  The next year he climbed Sears in 14:53. It was a big improvement, but still slower than the best climbers.

Again and again, Alex traveled to Chicago and climbed up Sears Tower. His times kept dropping. 14:45…14:19… He was certainly fast, but he was still slower than the best climbers.

By then, Alex was in his early 40s. His race results were still pretty good, but the times were no longer dropping. 

Then disaster stuck. The COVID pandemic shut down society. Workplaces, Schools, and even *charity races* were closed. Since there weren't any races to train for, Alex got fat... and when COVID was over, he wasn't in shape to climb. He took a year off to train.

When he finally lost some weight, he flew to Chicago to race up Sear Tower, but then he got sick and missed the climb**. 

**It was probably for the best since he would've struggled to break 20 minutes.

The next year, Alex was in much better condition. He flew to Chicago to race up the Sears Tower. This time, he didn't get sick. He climbed up the building in 16:40. He was over two minutes slower than his best time. He was disappointed.

Alex flew back to Albany. He was now 48 years old and feeling discouraged. Maybe he'd never again compete with the best climbers, but he still wanted to be fast. So Alex trained and dieted and then trained some more.

A year later, it was time for Alex to fly to Chicago to climb the Sears Tower again. He was now 49 years old and it would be his 12th trip to Sears  - including the time he got sick.

Here is where the story begins...

------------

Sears Tower. Round 12. The previous year, I was in decent shape, but my performance at Sears was underwhelming. While I expected to break 16 minutes based on my training, I ended up 40 seconds slower than my goal. 

This year I was a little leaner and slightly more fit. Based on my training, I knew I should shave at least 20 seconds off my time. However, 20 seconds *still* wouldn't get me under 16 minutes if I climbed like last year.

But I came into the race more prepared. For the past year, I've been incorporating 15 minute time trials to simulate the exertion needed to climb up a tall building. While the absolute levels of my fitness didn't change much, I was better prepared to handle a longer race.

It seemed to work. I had a good race at ESBRU that was on par with many of my races pre-COVID. Heading into the race, I was pretty confident I could climb Sears well under 16 minutes. Possibly under 15 if I had a good race. But let's not count our chickens prematurely...

The week leading up to Sears was rough. I climbed up and down Cap Blanc in Quebec 29 times with my friends Napoleon, Tom, and Jill and my legs were absolutely trashed. I stupidly had a "leg" day 48 hours after Cap Blanc and I didn't feel fully recovered until Thursday. But Thursday, I had an awesome time trial. I took off Friday to rest and fly out to Chicago. In Chicago, 24 hours before the race, I did a short "shake out" climb in my 19 story hotel. It wasn't pretty. Despite using a slow 80 BPM "Sears" pace (e.g. like running at a 5K pace for a few 600m repeats) I felt super sluggish.

Unsure of my fitness, I decided to use a slightly conservative pace on the morrow: 78 BPM rather than 80 BPM which I had originally planned to go with.

I hung out with David and Jill later that day. It appeared that the competition at Sears was fairly light this year, which has been a common theme since COVID. There wouldn't be any fast international climbers and many top US climbers would be absent. That meant that if I had a good race, I might take a podium spot?

The next morning, I power-walked to Sears. Of course, it was raining**. 

**Wet socks, but at least my racing shoes remained dry.

There were a lot of familiar faces at check-in including my friend Tom who drove 12 hours and slept in his car to be here.

Warm-up time. Active stretches and burpees. Then the long trek to the start line. I'm not kidding. Since the remodelling, they added a labyrinth in the 2nd level basement which serves as a "mini-museum" for the Skydeck. At least I think that's what it is - I wasn't going to leisurely browse the exhibits while jazzed up for the race.

At the start line, reality finally set in.

Like I mentioned, the competition was light this year. There were a few perennial power houses like Jason Larson and Mark Ewell, but nobody else that I knew... that is until I noticed our current US Champion - Chris Wiatr - on the start line**. Plus a couple other fast-looking climbers.

**You are probably wondering why I was surprised to see the US Champion at the race. The reason is quite simple: Chris isn't on the stair climbing circuit. He typically only does one race - Hustle up the Hancock - which just happened to be our National Championship race this year (traditionally it's been at the Stratosphere in Las Vegas). As a competitive cyclist, he is quite fast in the stairwell. It wasn't a surprise that he won at Hustle... but I was somewhat surprised to see him at Sears. 

While my chances of winning just took a nosedive, I still held out hope for a podium spot, especially since Jason - my longtime rival - wasn't in top shape**.

**For a very good reason. Congrats!

I finished up my last round of burpees and lined up 4th behind Chris. The two other fast-looking guys lined up ahead of us. Potentially they had no business starting out in front, but I wasn't going to say anything (sometimes there are very fast dark-horses at these events). I assumed Jason, Mark, and Jill were behind me but I honestly was too focused on the start line to pay attention.

The organizers gave us 7 seconds between climbers and soon it was my turn. 

Go!

Did I mention I broke my metronome? The battery died while climbing up Cap Blanc and it was so old that the screws were corroded and the heads stripped (as I've changed the battery many times over the years). After forcefully cracking it open, it stopped working. Luckily, I borrowed Jills Garmin which has a built-in haptic (a fancy word for vibration) metronome. Much better than any of the Apple metronome apps which turn off as soon as you move your wrist to start climbing or switch between apps (Strava, stopwatch, etc.).

I started my stop-watch and started climbing. While the Garmin metronome buzzed against my right wrist, it was faint and I regretted not having my audible Seiko metronome. Fortunately, after a few flights, I finally "felt" the beat properly and got into a 78 BPM rhythm.

Prior to the race, I worried that I'd tire out prematurely based on my disheartening "shakeout" climb the previous day. However, at this point my mind was blank. No thoughts other than keeping one foot on the landings. Sears is generally a 10/10 pattern so by purposely taking one step (rise) after each landing that meant I was taking the turns rather conservatively. Single-Double-Double-Double-Double-Single-Turn. Repeat. Far easier (but slower) than taking only double steps.

Already I was into the 20s. I might've passed one of the first two climbers? I can't remember. But I distinctly heard heavy breathing and quick steps coming from down below. It was strange. The audible footfalls had a much higher turnover rate than mine, but they weren't catching up very quickly. Then it dawned on me that they were single stepping (i.e. running) up the stairs. Mystery solved. 

Slowly but surely, the climber was catching up. Finally I had visual contact in the upper 30s. Unsurprisingly, I didn't recognize them as few top climbers take single steps**.

**While I personally don't use single steps, I've been passed by a couple top Europeans using that technique, so I'm not knocking it.

I didn't panic. While this climber (which I later learned was Thomas Baker) had already put 20-30 seconds into me, I could tell by his heavy breathing that he was starting to struggle with the pace. He eventually came within a flight of my position, but slowly I started pulling away. By the time we hit the halfway point (around the 51st floor) he was no longer in sight.

I was climbing alone again as I entered the 60s. I was handling the pace fairly well, but I was starting to feel fatigued. Could I maintain this pace if I restarted the race? Probably not. Could I maintain this pace for another 6 minutes? Probably yes.

I passed another climber (which I later learned was Benjamin Mohrdieck). That meant that only Chris Wiater was ahead of me. That meant I likely sealed up 2nd place unless there was some other unknown dark horse starting further back. I didn't dwell on it as I was now in the suffer zone.

I hit the 77th floor, roughly 75% of the way to the top. I briefly peered at my watch. While I didn't get a good look, I did register the first two (minutes) digits as an 11, meaning I was still under the 12 minute mark. That meant I was on track to break 16 minutes. This didn't take a lot of mental math as my goal was ~4 minutes per quarter. Easy enough to calculate when loopy.

More importantly, I heard cheering from up ahead. It had to be the volunteers cheering for Chris as he was the only climber ahead of me. I mentally approximated how much time it took me to get to the cheering/aid station. Maybe 15 seconds? A bit more than the 7 second gap we started with... but within striking distance.

I consciously sped up after crossing into the 80s. 

Here is where I noticed the advantage of using a haptic metronome. While it's annoying to get into an initial rhythm because the pulse is so faint, it also makes it easier to ignore and climb at a faster pace.

I was definitely feeling the pace, but with less than 3 minutes to go, I knew I had saved enough for a strong finish. The guard rails of my metronome were off and I climbed with urgency. Not quite a sprint... but I could feel my legs churning out the extra watts.

Into the 90s, the stairwell changed from 10/10 to 7/7/7 and I could now hear Chris up ahead. As we started with a 7 second gap, I knew I didn't need to pass him - I just needed to keep within a couple flights. But now my finishing instincts kicked in. Chris was climbing fairly well, but I managed to catch up with another surge. He stepped out of the way to let me pass right around the 96th floor (give or take a floor).

I kept up my surge on the final few floors. Tired? Yes, but I wasn't quite at my limit. 100. 101. 102. Those triple flights made it a bit harder to tolerate, but finally I was a mere three flights from the end. I could hear the cheering from the Skydeck as I climbed towards the top.

I burst through the doorway and crossed the finish line. I stopped my watch right at 15:29.

It took me a few moments to register that I had (probably**) won the race!

**As there were 2000+ participants the climb would last all morning and there was always the possibility someone faster would climb later. 

I was tired, but not on-the-floor dying. I managed to stay on my feet albeit hunched over with my hands on my quads for support. By the time a few of the other racers had finished, I was walking off the fatigue.

For the next 45 minutes or so, I hung out on the Skydeck with all the other climbers. I got a chance to catch up with many other climbers on the circuit and had the opportunity to meet & chat with Chris (2nd place) and Ben (5th place). 

Jill (unsurprisingly) won the women's side, but unlike me, she was on the ground for quite a long while. As winners, we got to hold up the Towerrunning Challenge poster.

Meanwhile it took Tom a bit longer to get up to the top. While he was initially on pace for 30 minutes, he suffered during the later half, but still finished in 35 minutes.

Final Thoughts:

While my time this year (15:26) wasn't the best I had ever done, it was still solid and more importantly, I had lopped over a minute off of last year's mediocre performance. Catching up with Chris near the end of the race was just icing on the cake. At the very least, it gives me confidence that I can perform well at our National Championship at Hustle early next year.

As a comparison, here are my times across the years. This ranks 8th out of 11 climbs (not great) but it's not too far behind some of my "average" climbs.

2011 16:52

2012 15:13

2013 14:53

2014 14:45

2015 14:19

2016 14:21

2017 14:50**

2018 14:45**

2019 15:09**

2023: DNS (sick)

2024 16:40**

2025 15:26**

** Since 2017 we've had two extra floors (44 steps) which adds ~18 seconds, so this year's 15:26 is faster than my 15:13 time from 2013.

I'm quite pleased that I won, but let's be real. At the start of my racing career this performance wouldn't have been remotely close to a podium spot. There were so many faster climbers back then. Since COVID, however, the competition hasn't been as strong. On the positive side (?) I'm probably the oldest winner of the race which means I've benefited from the longevity of my career. There are older climbers out there who are (or who have been) faster... but every year that passes, the list seems to grow smaller.

Next year I plan to improve even further. I'd really like to crack 15 minutes and I honestly think I have the capability. If not now... then after a bit more training and proper dieting.

My pace of 78 BPM turned out to be conservative. In prior years, I used 82-85 BPM though I've bonked at the top of that range. Perhaps 80 BPM would've been  optimal? I'm walking a fine line between bleeding time (too slow) and blowing up (too fast).

Grades:

Fitness: A minus - Very close to pre-COVID levels.

Weight: A minus - I'm around 171 which is a good race weight. The final goal is just below 170, though 165 would be a dream come true.

Effort: B Plus - This was a solid effort, but I could've handled a faster pace for the first 80 stories. I wasn't on the floor at the end of the race which means I had some energy. 

Pacing & Technique: B Plus - 78 BPM was slightly conservative, but it delayed the suffering which tests mental fortitude. Likewise, it enabled me to save some energy so that I could pick up the pace towards the end. Other than hugging the rails and avoiding placing both feet on the landings, my technique wasn't special. I simply didn't pay much attention to my footfalls.

Overall: A minus - This was another "breakthrough" race post COVID and it gave me added confidence for a long race. I can finally put last year's performance in the rear view window. I was honestly worried that my racing years were winding down

New York, New York!

Lead Up:

I've been feeling dejected of late. While I hit my weight loss goal and my fitness seemed close to pre-COVID levels, my race results haven't matched my expectations. With races in both Albany and Seattle clocking in 5-10 seconds slower than I expected, I felt like I had lost my top gear. Like, when I was in my late 30s and early 40s, I would've found that extra gear. While I probably would've gone out a little aggressively and paid the toll for it in the latter half of a climb, I  would have also pushed through the pain - finally collapsing in a heap at the end with a solid time. These days maybe my body can't tolerate it? or maybe I'm just unwilling to get to that point?

While I'm still in very good shape, I can't help but think my glory days are behind me.

That didn't stop me from grinding out a solid week of workouts in between races, however. I pushed myself hard and I hit 2nd (post-COVID) bests in all my major workouts leading up to ESBRU. While they weren't absolute bests... doing them back-to-back-to back during the same week was a solid achievement.

I finally stopped grinding on Monday with only 48 hours before the race. I limited my weight training session to about 70-85% (legs) and did a fairly easy workout on Tuesday, keeping my HR below 160 which is where fatigue really starts to accumulate.

While I wasn't completely fresh come race day, I still felt pretty darn good.

My goal for this race was low 13s. Last year I climbed in 13:38 and fitness wise, I knew I should shave off a solid 25 seconds. My stretch goal, however was 12:59. Breaking 13 would be fantastic and be in line with many of my other ESBRUs. 

Logistics:

Amtrak didn't have any cheap & convenient rides from Albany/Rensselaer to Penn Station on race day, so I drove down to Beacon to take the commuter rail. 

View of the Hudson at Beacon

Though it is two stations south of Poughkeepsie (my usual stop) it actually takes the same amount of time to drive to Beacon since it is right off I84. A few more tolls, but it cuts 18 minutes (and a couple of bucks) off of my train ride. I wish I had figured this out 20 years ago.

I left the house at 2:45 and got to Beacon around 4:25. Plenty of time to catch the 4:49 train to Grand Central. On the train I read a few chapters of "A Canticle for Leibowitz" and tried to not think about the upcoming race. I arrived at Grand Central around 6:15 PM (on time) and had my pre-race snack downstairs in the food court - a banana with peanut butter. In case you are wondering, I like my bananas a little under ripe when eating them with peanut butter and mostly ripe when eating them plain.

As I walked towards the Empire State Building, I took a snapshot of it right as the sun was setting. You can see One Penn Plaza (another NYC racing venue) in the background since they are both on 34th Street. The entire walk takes maybe 15 minutes.

Pre-Race:

ESBRU attracts a pretty strong international field each year as well as a gaggle of top American climbers. While generally you see a lot of familiar faces in the lineup, you don't find out the actual lineup until you're lining up.

Here is a bunch of strong climbers I knew in order of expected finishing order:

Internationals: Wai Ching Soh, Fabio Ruga, and Omar Bekkali. Also, former Olympic 2x gold medalist triathlete Alistair Brownlee was set to make an appearance, though for some reason he wasn't starting with the elites. Surprisingly absent was Ryoji Watanabe who won last year.

There were at least a couple other international elites as well, but I don't keep up with the World rankings these days and I just don't know them well enough to comment. I just had to assume that if they traveled to NYC for a race, they were likely faster than I was.

Americans: Cole Hetzel, David Roeske, Myself, Martin Pederson**, Troy Alston, Mark Ewell, David Tromp, and Steve Marsalese. A fairly competitive field... but surprisingly missing were Sproule Love and Jason Larson. Of the field, the only climber strong enough to compete with the faster internationals was Cole Hetzel.

**Martin is actually Danish, but he is my friend and he shows up a lot of big American Climbs. Hence, I'm grouping him with us.

I'm not as qualified to speak for the Women's side, but of the women I knew, my top picks were: Shari Klarfeld, Kamila Chomanicova (international), Anna Carlson, Jill Paha, Nicole Robbins, Tricia O'Hara, and Debbie Officer. There were several other international women in the line-up, but I follow women's racing even less than the men's. The only other woman I hoped would be at the race was Cindy Harris, but sadly she didn't attend this year.

I had a good 30 minutes to kill before heading to the start line. I changed into my racing gear and checked in my bag *twice* as I forgot to change into my racing flats the first time around. As I waited in the auditorium, I chatted with a few of my stair racing friends and Tower Masters teammates** who I haven't seen for a long while and finally met Cole Hetzel who I knew only through reputation. Before heading to the start line, I began doing my active stretching routine followed by a couple rounds of burpees to start my warmup.

**David Tromp, Steve (dad) and Sebastian (son) Marsalese, & Jim McNamara (there for moral support). 

Showtime:

I followed my friend Jill to the start line (I was hoping she'd earn a podium spot) and finished up my last few rounds of burpees. They felt easy, though they spiked my heart rate much higher than I would've otherwise expected. Probably nerves?

We were given a short warning a few minutes prior to the 8:00 PM official start time. I lined up in the 2nd row. Last year I started at the back was boxed out of the stairwell for a few seconds. 

I was expecting a couple minutes of announcements and introductions, but to my surprise, we were given just a "Ready... go!" as the clock hit 8:00. Honestly, I kind of like it better this way; it helps me time my last round of burpees in order to keep my warm-up fresh for the race.

We began a mad dash to the stairwell as I started my stop watch. I may or may not have yelled "Charge!".

I got stuck in the doorway for a trice, but soon I was climbing up. The first couple floors were crowded, but I was still able to climb at my metronome's 90 BPM pace. Within a few floors, the fastest climbers (and rabbits) were already a couple flights ahead leaving a gruppetto of slower climbers in their wake. At this point I think it was David R., Alex (me), Martin, Troy, and Mark climbing ass-to-nose in a vertical human centipede.

The floors passed by fairly quickly and I only looked for the floor numbers when we hit double digits. We were still in formation but no longer climbing on top of one another, As we entered the mid teens, I noticed Troy gaining on me. A conundrum. Should I stay on the inside lane and force him to expend extra energy to pass on the outside? Or should I lose a second and step out of the way to give him a clean pass? My rule is that if I'm confident I'm the better athlete, I'll stay in my lane. It's not my fault that a weaker climber is unable to reign in their enthusiasm. But if I'm unsure... I always get out of the way.

I got out of the way. 

While I hoped to eventually pass him further up, Troy beat me earlier this year in a 22 floor sprint climb and also beat me 9.5 years ago (February 2016) in this very same building.

I soon hit the 20th floor where the stairwell transitions from a regular stairwell (Single flight, landing, 180 turn, Repeat) to a Z pattern (Single flight, 180 turn, Run towards the next flight, 180 turn, Repeat). Time to take stock of the situation. While nearly at the quarter point vertically, time wise it's just under the 20% mark and still early in the race. I still felt pretty strong. Fresh even. The real climb was just beginning and I'm glad I felt as good as I did.

I quickly found my new rhythm and over the course of the next two floors. Unexpectedly, Troy had stepped out of the way to let the rest of us go by. Did he blow up? There wasn't enough oxygen in my brain to think about it.

Into the 30s, we were now down to three climbers. David, Alex, and Martin, though maybe Mark was still holding on. I couldn't tell.

For the past 10 floors, it went something like this:

Climb steady to my metronome up the flight, turn, sprint to the next flight, catch on to the side rail and swing myself around the corner, using the momentum to carry me up the first few steps. Repeat. 

The problem was, I was constantly grabbing on to the side rail right next to David's hand as he began to climb up the next flight. While my momentum carried me up the first few stairs, I'd have to pause slightly to let David get a little further ahead so we weren't bumping into each other. Frankly, it was getting tiresome (mentally) and I knew I was wasting a little time and energy after switching from the flat to the stairs. 

I contemplated passing to make my climb a little easier. But considering we were virtually going the same speed, I knew that I'd have to accelerate for a few floors to get away clean. That seemed like a foolish idea considering I was approaching my red line. Honestly, I didn't want to go any faster. Rather, I just wanted some space. So going into the 40s I eased up a bit to put a half-flight of space between us.

At this point, our trio had dwindled down to just two of us. I could kind of hear Martin down below, but I couldn't see him.

On 42, I cheered internally. One Corning Tower done... and a little more than one to go**. 

**Years ago, David Tromp told me this is what goes through his head and it's stuck in mine ever since.

From here it started to feel tough. No longer was I attacking the flats and aggressively turning. However, 90 BPM pace on the stairs still felt reasonable.

Into the 50s, I was still holding it together. The gap between David and myself was nearly a whole flight. While he was exiting, I was entering.

Then came the 60s. I knew we were approaching the last phase of the race. I could hear David, but I had nearly lost sight of him.

On the 65th floor transition to the next stairwell, I nearly panicked. At this point, you exit the stairwell and run down a few different hallways with a couple 90 degree turns in between. While I didn't get lost, I realized I had lost contact with David. Not only could I not see him, but I couldn't hear him either.

I got back into the stairwell and climbed up to the 66th floor. If I had any breath to spare I would've breathed a sigh of relief. While I couldn't see David, I could hear him on the flight above. The acoustics of the previous hallway had just muffled out the sound.

Climbing up towards the 70s it was time for a gut check. I was pretty much on the knife's edge of the redline. Once you go past the red line, there is no coming back so you'd better be close to the finish... and with nearly 20 floors to go, I wasn't yet ready to push harder. It was a weird feeling. On one hand I was in pain and ready to stop, but on the other, I felt I could continue this pace for a good while yet. This far into the race, I think I was a half-step slower on the runs. However, I could still handle my 90 BPM pace on the vertical sections. Barely.

I was mentally trying to avoid thinking about the pain. I just checked each floor off one by one until I hit the 76th floor. Only 10 more to go. I glanced down at my watch. I don't quite remember the number, but I think it was somewhere in the low 11s. While these are "long" floors with all the running involved, I felt like I had a shot at breaking 13.

I had nearly lost David at this point. He was probably over a floor ahead; I could hear him, but only faintly. I mentally chastised myself - I shouldn't have let him get so far ahead in the first place. Time to reel him in.

77, 78, 79. I attempted to run on the flats with a little more urgency and take the turns a little more aggressively.

Into the 80s. 

By now I realized I had run out of room to catch up to David who I assumed also increased his pace, but it didn't stop me from trying to close the gap.

81, 82, 83. Just three floors to go. I  stopped caring about the pain and just climbed.

83, 84, 85. Almost there. Push!

I swear that the last floor or so skips a run and just goes vertical. After getting used to the landings it felt like someone socked me in the gut. 

While I exited the stairwell on the 86th floor, I thought I saw a glimpse of David as he went around the turn on the observation deck. Now it was just a sprint to the finish line. I made it around the final turn and I could see the race clock with big red numbers. 12:46... 12:47... 12:48... I ran through the finish line to squeeze out a fraction of a second. I stopped my watch at 12:53 a few seconds after crossing. Then I collapsed to the ground. I had really pushed myself and there was a real possibility of climbing under 12:50.

The Aftermath:

It took a few minutes to get up. I didn't even notice when the remaining men and the next wave of women crossed the line. I was woozy, but happy. I had beaten both my goal and stretch goal in what was probably my 2nd fastest time ever in this building going back 10+ years. So while Albany and Seattle indicated I hadn't regained my former climbing shape... this race flips that script.

Eventually most of the climbers I knew were gathered on the observation deck and for once I could truly admire the view. I bumped into Jill who for once seemed pleased with her race. She mentioned that although she didn't reach the podium, she kept up with the other top women, battling it out throughout the entire race.

After race photos courtesy of Mark Ewell

By now the race results were being posted and I took a quick glance. The placement seemed legitimate (9th overall) but the times looked wonky. They had me coming in at 12:34 which was ~15 seconds faster than reality and it appeared all the other climbers in my wave had the same timing issue. You can see the official results here.

Finally time to go back downstairs. By happenstance I ran into Alistair Brownlee (the aforementioned gold medalist) and had a quick photo with him. Turns out he raced in a different wave and clipped me by 6 seconds. It's too bad he didn't compete with the elites as I might've been with him our little group.

Before I returned home, I grabbed some Pizza with Jill and her mom to celebrate. I think it was well deserved as Jill came in 4th among the ladies and I came in 9th overall.

I caught the 10:47 PM train back to Beacon. I was on a high nearly the entire way back. Like a rational adult, I tried my best to take a nap as I had a 3-seat row all to myself, but all I could do was close my eyes. Possibly a mix of endorphins and caffeine. After arriving at Beacon, I hopped in my car and drove back to Albany. I arrived home by 2:00 AM, though I didn't actually go to bed until 3:00. I'd be tired tomorrow... but the trip to NYC was worth it.

Grades:

Fitness: A minus - Very close to pre-Covid levels.

Weight: A minus - I'm somewhere between 171 and 172 lbs on any given day which is where I typically race at. The final goal is just below 170.

Effort: A - I pushed myself pretty hard. I thought about giving an A minus, but considering how pleased I was with myself afterwards, I'm giving myself that A.

Pacing & Technique: B Plus - 90 BPM was pretty solid at least after the 20th floor. My technique - sprinting the landings and swinging around the rails - was solid, but not really the right strategy (more thoughts below)

Overall: A minus - While I was in survival mode, say into the 50s and above, I didn't break mentally and kept with it. I didn't have a "killer instinct" but that might be due to the venue.

Final Thoughts:

I've always struggled at ESBRU. Even this time around I feel like I underperformed relative to other climbers (like in a similarly timed building, I'd expect to be in the mid/lower 12s rather than upper 12s/lower 13s). I think over the years I've accepted this fact. This year, my only aspiration was to erase last year's poor performance** by putting down a more respectable time. A 13:10 would be solid. Anything below 13 would be wonderful.

**It's not that last year was a "bad" race. Rather, I was slower because I was a few pounds overweight and my fitness was still a work in progress.

Tactically, I think my decision to stay behind David was sound. He's stronger in the building and his pace was pretty consistent. However, I think I wasted a bunch of energy in the 20s and 30s attacking the flats and turns only to pause when catching up to David. I either should've passed or been less aggressive... and because I wasn't feeling confident enough to pass, I should've been less aggressive.

The funny thing is, after I stopped attacking and had some space... I lost the will (and perhaps even the ability) to attack. 

After looking at the race results, I think I uncovered the main source of error. I specifically remember starting the race just as the clock passed 8:00 PM. However, all of the men in the elite wave have their official start time as 8:00:18 (eighteen seconds past 8 O'clock). So assuming that the top and bottom clocks were in sync, I trust my crossing time of 8:12:49 means I really climbed in 12:49.

Finally, after looking at the splits on the 20th floor, 65th floor, and finish line on the 86th floor observation deck, it's amazing how the top men climbed up. Essentially, the top 6 men sprinted up the first 20 floors and then settled into a much slower pace for the rest of the building. 

As an example, take the 3rd and 4th climbers (Ching Chun & Cole) who basically climbed up the building together. Overall, they were ~82 seconds ahead of me. By the 20th floor (representing ~20% of the race) they were already 35 seconds ahead. From floors 20-65 (representing ~55% of the race) they pulled further ahead by another 35 seconds. Finally, from floors 65 to the finish on 86 (representing ~25% of the race) they pulled ahead by only 12 seconds.

To put it another way:

43% of the gap came during the first 20% of the race

43% of the gap came during the middle 55% of the race

14% of the gap came during the last 25% of the race

While I don't adhere to that strategy myself, the fact that all the faster climbers used it appears to give it some merit, at least in a race with a mass start.