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.