The Boston Monkey

Just a few days after the Empire State Building Run-Up,  I traveled to Boston to “Race Up Boston Place”. I did this event a year ago and even though I had a great race, I forgot to swipe my timing chip and had to go back into the stairwell to swipe. Those few precious seconds cost me both the win and the course record, so I was coming into the race with a huge monkey on my back*. You can read about last years’ experience here.

*Actually, it felt like more like a baboon or a gibbon, but I’d have to consult a primatologist to be sure.

The day after Empire (i.e. Thursday) my lungs were still a bit raw but I felt energetic. I was still disappointed with my performance at Empire and I felt like hitting the gym hard to take out my frustration. Fortunately reason trumped emotion. Knowing I needed to save my energy for Boston, I kept my workout fairly light.

The day before the race, my lungs were nearly recovered and I spent my lunch hour in the office stairwell doing pacing intervals to prepare for the race. Although half of the ascents were done at close to race pace, they were short enough so that I wasn’t taxing my legs or lungs. After my pacing intervals, I knew I was ready to race.

That evening I headed to my friend Kurtis’ house in Worcester (a city just west of Boston) to crash overnight. I got a late start – having spent extra time after work to make a salad for dinner – so I arrived at Kurtis’ house later than I had planned (nearly 11:00 PM). We stayed up for another hour or so and I finally went to bed just after midnight. Although I should have given myself more time to sleep the night before a big race, I hadn’t seen Kurtis and Renee in nearly a year and wanted to chat and catch up.

I woke up around 6:20 AM and slipped out the door by 6:40. I got into Boston around 7:15 or so, but I missed the exit to get off I93. I was using the same map that I printed out last year to get to the race and wanted to get off at exit 24A… but the interstate exits seemed to skip from 23 to all the way to 26. By the time I finally got off the interstate I was completely lost. T minus 35 minutes.

The good news was that I brought along my portable GPS, but the bad news was that the GPS was on “low battery” and I didn’t have the USB adapter for my car charger*.

*I thought it was in the glove compartment of my car… but it was really sitting on top of my bookshelf at home.

I parked my car at a gas station and frantically entered the address into the GPS. T minus 30 minutes. It found the location easily enough, but it took several harrowing minutes for the GPS to connect to a satellite and give me directions. T minus 25 minutes. Finally the GPS showed me where to go and I followed the directions towards downtown. I got off the interstate again into a the messy web of Boston side streets. None of the street names looked familiar but I kept scanning the area for a familiar landmark. Finally I saw what I was looking for: One Boston Place! I found the parking garage I was supposed to use, but it was further down the wrong end of a one way street. T minus 20 minutes. Fortunately, I managed to go around the block and pick up the street again. I quickly parked my car in the garage. T minus 15 minutes.

As I ran over to the building memories of 2014 came back to haunt my mind. A year ago, I arrived fairly early, yet still managed to screw things up – forgetting my bib’s safety pins, getting locked in the wrong stairwell, etc. etc. But this year I was smarter… right?

I rushed into the building and headed to the lower level to get my #1 bib. Rather than mess around with gear check (on the 39^th floor) I decided to just leave my bag behind the check-in counter. It wasn’t the safest option, but it saved a few precious minutes – minutes I didn’t have. I quickly stripped off  my warm-ups (I was wearing my racing gear underneath) and changed into my racing shoes. After stuffing my bag behind the check-in counter, I headed to the men’s bathroom *.  T minus 10 minutes.

*’cause every ounce matters.

With less than 10 minutes remaining, I headed back upstairs. I began my warm-ups right on the staircase landing (a separate stairway – not the actual race course). I had just enough time to crank out two sets of burpees before I had to get in line. Two sets wasn’t optimal, but it had to be enough. With less than five minutes before the race, I made it to the front of the line. Count down aborted. Mission success.

In line I met Paul Curley, stair climbing veteran and official timer of the ALA, as well as my new friend Chris Price, an Australian who I had recently met at the Empire State Building Run-Up. Also in line I met the racer with the #2 bib - Adam Celleme - a local racer who I knew by reputation. He has done this race several times and owns a PB of 4:31 (set in 2010). Assuming he was still in good shape, I knew it would be a close race*.

*To put things into perspective, 4:31 is an impressive time. Last year’s winner came in at 4:25, beating me in a tight (albeit mistake prone) race. Few people on the circuit today could go faster.

Having barely made it to the race on time, I had very little time to think about my race strategy, let alone preview the stairwell. Fortunately, the day before the race, I re-read last year’s blog so I more or less knew what to expect. With 30 seconds before the start, I set my metronome to 121 beats per minute which worked well last year. If I could keep up that pace, that would put my on track to hit 4:20 or so, which would handily break the Javier’s record of 4:23 set back in 2010.

As the seconds ticked by I reviewed one last thing in my head: Don’t forget to swipe my chip.

The clock passed 8:00 AM and I ran into the stairwell.

The 121 pace was tough, but maintainable. My mind wasn’t really into the climb – I was still stressed out about nearly missing the race – but I had my metronome to push me through the first 10 floors while I climbed on autopilot. As the floors passed by, I noticed that my movement was turning on the auto-lights. Every couple floors or so, it would become kind of dark, but with a sudden click, the stairwell would become illuminated once again.

By the mid-teens I was finally in the zone. My heart rate was peaking and I could really feel the strain of the pace. I surprised a couple of the race volunteers who were chatting idly on one of the landings. Once they saw me, they moved out of  my way – and quickly scurried back to their assigned stations. By this point I could no longer hear Adam behind me, although I could still hear the volunteers cheering for him down below.

I knew the midpoint of the race was somewhere between the 18^th floor and 19^th. I checked my watch as I approached the 19^th floor. It was something like 2:07 or maybe 2:10? I don’t really recall – my brain being oxygen deprived  at that moment – but I do remember being fairly pleased. I climbed into the 20s still going strong.

The pace was becoming tough as I climbed out of the 20s. Suddenly (floor 28 to be exact) the stairwell switch from right hand turns to left hand turns. It totally broke my rhythm – almost like somebody sucker punching me in the gut and knocking the wind from my lungs. It took a couple floors to get back into the groove.

The 30s were brutal. I could barely hold on to the pace and gripped both rails at once for dear life. When I hit the 36^th floor it felt like someone had taken a hot poker and branded my lungs. I began counting down each individual flight – not just the floors – in order to cope. In the back of my mind I knew I was supposed to kick it up a notch and finish strong, but I couldn’t will my body to go any faster. My legs were ready, but my heart and lungs were at their limit. By the 40^th floor I had nothing left to give, but I knew it was almost over. I climbed the final few flights (all four of them) and the finish line was in site. I held out my right hand and swiped my chip. I made sure not to forget this time around*.

*It also helps that the timing mats were marked with a huge red “X”.

X Marks the Spot

After swiping my chip, I quickly turned off my stopwatch. It said 4:24 and I was fairly confident that I had at least tied the building record of 4:23. I may have been a second or two off from last year’s unofficial pace – but by finally taking the record, I had thrown off a huge monkey off my back.

I sat down in a chair, leaning forward with my forearms on my legs to try and recover. Although I didn’t see Adam finish (as I was too tired to lift my head) I could hear him cross the finish line. He wasn’t too far behind so I knew it was a close race – although I suspected I had pulled far enough ahead to take the win. Next came some of the usual suspects – Paul and Chris although I wasn’t sure in which order.

After a couple minutes I finally had enough energy to sit up straight and talk. I was finally able to chat with the other racers and hear their thoughts about the race. Adam pretty much secured the #2 spot, but apparently Paul and Chris battled it out for 3^rd. From what I gather, Paul started 10 seconds ahead of Chris, but Chris managed to catch up and pass. Later on in the race, Paul took the lead again… but did he manage to take back all 10 seconds? It was too close to call. We’d have to wait until the final standings were posted.

At the top, I also had the opportunity to meet someone who reads my blog other than friends & family. Thanks Nick – you really made my day.

After recapping our individual races, Chris and I headed back downstairs to retrieve our bags. We stopped at the 39^th floor to get Chris’s stuff and get a post-race snack (I had an ice cream bar). Then we went down to the check-in table to get mine.

Just as I was getting my bag, I ran into another person who reads my blog. You read that right. There are *multiple* people that read my blog! Just to prove it, here is a photo.

 

I'm not short. Daryl is just tall.

Daryl – a reader of my blog – came all the way from Canada to do this race. He is a fire fighter is climbing stairs to train for the fire fighter games. He chose the right venue since this Boston is one of the most competitive fire fighter climbs on the East Coast.

After parting ways with Daryl, Chris and I went back to the 39^th floor to snap a few photos and gather some post-race goodies*.

*read: another ice cream bar.

WCL & SCA

Chris and I then headed back downstairs to check out our official race times:

I took 1^st place with a time of 4:23 – officially tying the record.

Adam took 2^nd with a time of 4:28 – becoming just the 5^th person ever go sub 4:30.

Chris managed to hold off Paul for 3^rd place with a time of 4:58.

Paul came in 4^th with a time of 5:03, putting guys half his age to shame.

You can see the full results here.

After checking our times, Chris and I headed to the post-race party at Scholar’s Boston Bistro to grab a drink. Unfortunately, both of us had to hit the road before the start of the awards ceremony, but we had a chance to hang out for nearly an hour and discuss our favorite subject: Climbing stairs!

Chris is one of the founding members of Stair Climbing Australia (SCA) – an organization devoted to promoting stair climbing in the land down under. Although SCA mainly covers the Australian climbing circuit, it has a lot of useful training tips for stair climbing. In fact, I got the idea for my “Training Time” posts from one of Chris’ posts on the SCA website (check out the site here). I’m glad I finally had a chance to meet Chris in person after reading so many of his articles on the SCA website.

At 11:00 AM, it was time to get back on the road. After parting ways with Chris, I headed back to my friend Kurtis’s house to unwind. After Empire and Boston, I was pretty much drained so it was a real treat to hang out with one of my oldest friends. Plus, I got to eat whatever I wanted (pizza, nachos, etc.) and play one of my favorite board games: Twilight Imperium (think Risk… but in space).

Don't mess with my fleet.

Race Grades:

Effort: A- ; I lost focus near the end of the race and could have pushed harder… but it would’ve been tough. I was a puddle of oatmeal (steel cut – not quick oats) when I crossed the finish line.

Strategy: A ; My game plan of “stick with what worked last year” paid off.

Technique: A- ; Solid… but I have to learn how to take the turns faster.

Overall: A- ; Fitness wise, I think I’m slightly better this year, so I was hoping to break 4:20. Although I felt strong and fully recovered from the Empire State Building Run-up, I can’t help but wonder if racing so soon after Empire (on 2.5 days rest) might have depleted some of my energy reserves. In addition, last year I put together one of my best races ever (before screwing up my timing chip). So all things considered, I still had a pretty good race this go around.

Final Thoughts:

I may have been slightly slower this year (unofficially) it was a great feeling to finally get both the win and the course record. I waited a whole year to go for the win and the record. Getting that monkey off my back was good feeling*.

*No copyright infringement intended.

This building is virtually identical to the Albany Corning Tower and it is worth comparing how I felt after this race with how I felt in Albany back in 2013. This time, my legs felt pretty good after the race, but it took  a few minutes to catch my breath (i.e. stop feeling like I’m at death’s door) and another few minutes to start feeling human again. However two years ago in Albany, my legs were the limiting factor. Although my lungs hurt and I coughed up phlegm for a few days afterward, it was the pain in the legs which I remember most vividly - the sensation that someone had replaced all the blood in my legs with liquid fire. I believe the difference has been all the leg strengthening exercises I’ve done in conjunction with all the stair well sprints over the last two years; I feel stronger in the gym and the results in the stairwell confirm it. Now my weakest link (for races 40 stories & above) is clearly my aerobic/anaerobic capacity.

ESBRU 2014

Editor's Note: Originally written in 2014, this post has been sitting on my desk for nearly a year for a few reasons. First, I didn't have a particularly strong performance. Second, I was fighting off a virus that nearly ruined my season (which started with the Boston/ESBRU combo) and I wanted to forget about the whole thing. The final reason is I'm just lazy at keeping my blog current.

With the 2015 edition of the race right around the corner, I felt it was time to dust off this post and finally publish it. 

And my expectations for Tomorrow's race? I'm healthy, in great shape, and nervous. I'm likely going under 12 minutes.

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ESBRU is done!

What a difference a few days makes. Even though I had a pretty mediocre performance at Empire, I still had more fun at this race than I did in Boston*.

*In Boston, I unofficially broke the course record. However, I couldn’t find the timing chip mat and lost 5+ seconds. My mishap cost me both the race and the official course record. It was a tough pill to swallow, but a good lesson learned.

I was full of nerves in the days leading up to the race, and sick to boot. I pushed myself pretty hard in Boston and I picked up a case of “climber’s cough”. To make matters worse, my immune system took a hit and I also picked up a cold; a runny nose on Sunday turned into congestion & wooziness on Monday. I kept Tuesday’s workout (the day before the race) short and easy to make sure I was fresh for Wednesday’s race. I only did 8 climbs at race pace in my 6-story office building. Although most of my strength seemed to be back, the top end of my lungs still hurt, making climbing somewhat uncomfortable.

Tuesday night was particularly stressful because not only were my lungs still sore, but a snow storm was coming in. I thought about leaving for NYC that evening to make sure I would make it to the race, but opted to stay home instead. I hoped that a good night’s sleep would help me recover.

When I awoke Wednesday morning, there was about 12 inches of snow on the ground and it was still snowing. School was cancelled so I had to work from home that morning. This was actually kind of nice because it meant I’d save a good hour’s worth of driving (round trip) which meant I had some extra time to relax and prepare for the race.

Around noon I stopped working, but I didn’t get on the road for at least another half an hour. Even though I parked my car as close to the road as possible, the snow was so deep it took me a good 30 minutes to clean my car and shovel a path to the road.

The roads were horrible and it was still snowing. I nearly had an accident on my way to the bus station after I slid through a red light. Fortunately there weren’t very many cars on the road and I had enough time to get my car back under control before running into the cross traffic.

I arrived safely at the Albany Greyhound station, but to my dismay it was closed because of the storm. I dreaded the thought of driving all the way to NYC in the storm, but luckily the train station was just across the Hudson River in Rensselaer. I hopped back into my car and drove over the Dunn Memorial bridge. Miraculously the trains were still running and I booked passage to Port Authority, NYC.

The train ride was smooth and we arrived in NYC without incident. Since I still had several hours to kill before the race, we took the family over to Rockefeller Plaza to visit the LEGOLAND toy store and take in another iconic building*.

*I placed third at the Rock back in 2012. It is also the place where I met Sproule’s friend Tim Donahue.

We arrived at the Empire State Building around 7:00 PM. The first thing I did was ask permission to measure the stairs. It took a few minutes to get through security and another few minutes to talk them into unlocking the stairwell door, but finally they allowed me to see the first flight of steps. With an elevation gain of 1050 feet and 1576 steps, you’d expect the stairs to be 8 inches tall… but you’d be wrong*. The steps at the Empire State Building are just over 7 inches tall!

*Time and time again, the published step count and elevation for stair climbing races are incorrect. Just ask Stan. It is no different at Empire. Although I only had a chance to measure a limited sample of steps, I’m positive that the steps are less than 8 inches tall because I climbed steadily at 88 BPM using my metronome. Had these steps been 8 inches, I would have either broken 11 minutes or had a heart attack.

The NYRR had a special area for the invitational and MMRF waves and I grabbed a spot in the corner to begin final preparations. While I changed and repacked my bags, I saw a few familiar faces – people I knew personally or climbers who I knew by reputation. In fact, I had a chance to finally one of the fastest climbers in the world: Darren Wilson from Australia. In the waiting room I also learned that the finish line had been moved to the top of the 86^th floor rather than out on the observation deck. The bad weather made it too dangerous to run outside.

Nearly 25 minutes before the race, they started lining up the different waves, which was odd, because NYRR’s email strictly forbade us to arrive earlier than 30 minutes before the race. Thank goodness I ignored their instructions and arrived early so I had enough time to get ready. The other oddity was that they forbade us to bring our water bottles (presumably due to the enhanced security at the building).

A few minutes later, they allowed my wave (the men’s invitational) to start warming up while the women’s invitational waited at the start line. The hallway was pretty hot and after I completed a few rounds of burpees, my face was getting flushed and my mouth was getting dry. Without a water bottle in sight, I asked one of the guards the location of the nearest bathroom (which I figured would have a sink) and he told me there weren’t any, but I could try the Starbucks at the corner of the building. The door to the Starbucks was locked, but miraculously I saw a familiar face staring at me through the glass doorway. It was Bruce Yang! I did my best mime impression to indicate I was thirsty and needed some water. Fortunately Bruce had an extra bottle of water and motioned that he’d meet me in the hallway. He then walked out of Starbucks and walked back into the building near the cordoned off hallway. He reached over to give me a full water bottle as I shook his other hand to thank him. Triumphantly, I took a few sips. After saying goodbye to Bruce, I passed the bottle around to my fellow racers as we watched the women’s invitational take off. Now it was our turn to toe the line.

My strategy was pretty simple; keep a conservative pace until the 50^th floor and then speed up if I felt up to it. Although my lungs felt better than they did yesterday, I wasn’t sure I was at 100%. Plus, pushing myself too hard (like I did in Boston) would be a recipe for getting a full blown lung infection. As much as I wanted to go under 12:00, I wasn’t in the right condition or mind set. I figured that 12:30 was still achievable, but I’d still be happy if I broke 13:00.

Looking at the invitational field, I knew I would be pulling up the rear. My closest competitors would be David Tromp and Henry Wigglesworth, but I didn’t plan on keeping up with either of them this year. Not only was I not feeling great, but they both were veterans of this race*. Honestly, I didn’t know how to pace myself in this building, especially on the upper floors when you had to do a bit of running to get to each staircase.

*Although I did this race back in 2012, it was a terrible experience. Even though I knew what pace I used throughout the race, the circumstances were completely different. I was in the lottery time-trial and the stairwell was choked full of people. I ended up passing at least 100 people which both slowed me down and made me tired. It was so exhausted, that I ended up walking on the upper levels. Correspondingly, only a fraction of my first experience could be applied to today’s race.

You may think I was selling myself short and giving up before the race had even begun. Perhaps that is true, but at that moment it felt right. It was also somewhat liberating since I no longer felt any pressure to perform well. Setting the bar low would ensure I’d finish the race, even if my lungs started to hurt again. Plus it would give me the opportunity to measure my pace in a clear stairwell. I might not feel very competitive this year, but the knowledge I’d gain would set me up for success next year.

I set my metronome to 87 BPM. This was probably the pace I should of used in 2012 and I figured it would be a relatively easy pace for me to keep. In fact, if the steps were indeed only 7 inches tall throughout the course, I would probably need to pick up the pace during the 2^nd half in order to finish under 13 minutes.

As soon as the NYRR finished announcing the men’s invitational, the official sounded the horn in one of the most cordial starts in the ESBRU history*. I started off behind the favorites, beating only Henry Wigglesworth through the stairwell doorway. I immediately started marching to the beat of my metronome as all the other climbers pulled away and jockeyed for position. By the 5^th floor, everyone else – including Henry – were already out of sight. I bit back the urge to follow since I knew their pace was unsustainable, secretly hoping I’d reign in a few people later on in the climb.

*Search for “ESBRU Start” on YouTube. Some years had dozens if not hundreds of people per wave, which meant the start was complete chaos.

Men's Invitational Heat. I'm in the 2nd row.

It was pretty lonely in the stairwell and I didn’t like being the very last one – especially by such a large margin. I wasn’t in the race mentally, but physically I was coping quite well. My lungs weren’t hurting and the pace felt pretty relaxed. By the time I hit the upper teens, I increased my metronome to 88 BPM, not daring to go any higher this early in the race. From experience I knew that the first part of a race always feels easy; it usually isn’t until the midway point when the pain really starts to kick in.

Around floor 21 or so the stairwell pattern changed. Instead of 180 degree landings between each floor, each floor had a single flight of stairs*. To get to each new flight, you had to run several paces across the landing. The pictures below show this section of the race course. Photos courtesy James Harris (photographer) and Tomas Celko (pictured).

* Technically there are two flights each floor, not one continuous flight. You will notice from the 2^nd picture the stairs begin with a short quarter turn right followed by a short flight of three steps which ends on a small landing. After another quarter turn, there is a single long flight of stairs up to the next level.

Eventually I got used to this new pattern. My technique went something like this:

1. Finish the prior flight of stairs. Grab the rail to help accelerate around the turn.
2. Run across the landing (it is too short for a full sprint).
3. At the base of the next flight, grab the railing as best as possible to help turn the corner.
4. Use the momentum gained during the run to carry your body up the first short flight of steps and around the landing.
5. Decelerate back to normal climbing speed on the long flight of stairs - letting gravity do the work.
6. Climb the remainder of the flight. Repeat.

Soon I hit floor 30. The stairwell was very quiet. Besides the sounds of my breathing and footsteps, the only other sounds were coming from occasional volunteer. I remember hearing one of them announce “Here comes the last climber!” Most likely he was speaking into a radio to help the NYRR keep track of the race, but it still made me feel lousy. No one likes to be in last place.

A few floors later, I could faintly hear another climber up ahead.  Soon I confirmed I was gaining on the racer with the #4 bib. He was actually the only climber I didn’t know by reputation. When I saw him walking on the landings rather than running, I knew he was in trouble. I’ve been there before! I finally passed him on in the upper 30s and continued my vertical march.

I passed floor #44 imagining I only had the Albany Corning Tower left to climb*. I was nearly half way (time wise) up to the 86^th floor but I didn’t bother looking at my watch. Without a stairwell map it is pointless to try and guess time splits. The floor numbers kept creeping up and soon enough I was in the 50s still climbing smoothly. I approached the 60s only slightly more fatigued.

*David Tromp told me that is what he always thinks when he passes the 44^th floor a couple years ago and it has stuck ever since.

I met James Harris on the 66^th floor. He wasn’t racing this event – he was taking pictures*. I said hello as he took a couple shots. Physically I was feeling pretty good at this point. My heart rate had maxed out but the pain level was tolerable and my lungs were holding up. I accelerated for a few floors but then settled back into my regular pace**. I was still climbing by myself (albeit no longer in last place) and I didn’t have the willpower to go any faster.

*His wife Cindy has won the ESBRU multiple times and is a bit of a celebrity in the stair climbing world.

**That is one downside of using a metronome. Once you set a certain pace it is hard to deviate.

I passed into the lower 70s and risked a glance at my watch; It was already past 10 minutes!* I didn’t really have a clue if I was on track to break 13 minutes, but I did know one thing; the top racers were already finishing and here I was pussy footing around nearly 15 floors below. Something in my brain snapped and I shifted into high gear. It was probably too late to make much of a difference, but I had to do something.

* Maybe my watch said 10:17? Or maybe10: 43? I don’t really remember.

In the upper 70s or lower 80s I passed my friend Madeleine (who was in the women’s invitational) and a few moments later I passed another girl. Even though Madeleine was in last place, I was happy she was making it a competitive race. I on the other hand didn’t even show up to the fight. Ashamed with myself, I bolted up the few remaining flights and passed the finish line. I stopped my stop watch just as it passed 12:33.

Winded, I looked for a place to rest as a volunteer grabbed me a cup of water. The last ten floors were really draining, but compared to Boston, I felt pretty good. I was fairly pleased with my time, which would have been in the lower 12:40s had we been able to run across the observation deck to the normal finish line. Although I was a little upset with myself for not picking up the pace sooner in the race, I still managed to come close to my goal. Plus I set new PR by a margin of about 1:15. I was definitely pleased.

After the race we headed down to the post-race buffet and award ceremony. I think it was on the 80^th floor? It was nice to chat with the other racers at the buffet and congratulate all the podium finishers. I got a chance to look at the time sheet and I was surprised to learn I was only 6 seconds behind Henry Wigglesworth. After the first couple floors I never even saw him in the stairwell. I must have made up a significant amount of time near the end of the race, which meant my slow and steady strategy nearly paid off. You can see the full results here.

The best climbers live in Albany!

The only sour moment came during the announcement of the podium finishers on the men’s side. I was pretty upset when the NYRR announcer commented “Yet again, no American male sits on the podium.” Although true, it was the way he said it that really set me off. The tone of his voice sounded like he thought the American racers were 2^nd rate. What an asshole. After flipping him the bird, I yelled out “Hey, why don’t you try it?”

This point deserves a bit more commentary. If you follow Stair Climbing, you would quickly realize that the sport is dominated by the Europeans and Australians on the men’s side. We have many good climbers in the US, but there are far more athletes abroad who compete at a high level. To make matters worse, very few top Americans race at Empire because of the logistics. The race is in the middle of the week and this year the acceptance notices didn’t go out until 4 weeks prior to the event. This makes booking tickets & hotel accommodations difficult for those Americans living further West. In fact, you’ll see from the results sheet that the top Americans all hail from the East Coast.

After the awards ceremony, David and I headed back down to the bag check area to get changed. Next on the agenda was the brewery for a few post-race drinks! I spent the next hour or so with my friends and family talking about the race and meeting other climbers. All to soon it was time to leave; we had a bus to catch back to Albany.

Final Thoughts:

Effort: D/B- ; I didn’t push myself very hard (D). However, I just recovered from Boston, so I purposefully went out slow. That said, I should have picked up the pace around floor 45 rather than wait until the mid-70s. As such, I’m giving myself a B-.

Strategy: C+/B+ ; My pace was definitely too conservative (C+), but considering I had just recovered, I get some points back (B+). I can’t give myself an A because I failed to increase my pace during the 2^nd half of the race.

Technique: B+ ; The stairwell takes a bit of getting used to, but I finally feel comfortable with it. With practice, I think an A is possible.

Overall: C/B ; Because I didn’t push myself hard enough, I give myself a C. I purposefully held back because I wasn’t at 100%, so I’m giving myself a few points back (B).

Lessons Learned:

·         As a race, I did pretty mediocre, but as a practice session it was extremely valuable. Now I know what to expect and can make the proper adjustments.

·         If I had to do this race again today, I’d set my pace at 92 BPM and see how I felt at the 45^th floor. I feel fairly confident that I could break 12 minutes.

·         My lungs barely had time to recover after Boston. If I do the Boston/Empire combo again, I can’t afford to get sick. If I didn’t have unfinished business inside the stairwell at One Boston Place, I’d contemplate skipping the race next year.

·         Because of Empire’s unique shape (i.e. broad landings & long single flights) it is more sound proof than your typical stairwell. You can be within a floor of someone and not even notice. Don’t assume you are significantly behind or ahead of your fellow racers.

·         Screw Greyhound! The train is far more reliable in bad weather.

Climbing into the New Year

I always dread the holidays.

First off, the shopping days leading up to Christmas are stressful. I have trouble finding the right gift for people and more importantly - outside my immediate family - I'm never quite sure who is even on my Christmas list.

Here is a good example: I made a dozen or so jars of blackberry jam this fall intending to give them out as gifts to my son's teachers, coaches, etc. But then I was told* that teachers don't want homemade "crap" and just want gift-cards so they can buy what they actually want. So apparently I'll be eating my homemade crap for the next few months - which suits me just fine. My jam is awesome.

*he/she shall remain anonymous.

Secondly, I'm a creature of habit. Unless I'm in my normal routine, I find it very difficult to train and eat right. The holidays provides a perfect storm: Lots of travel & lots of good food. For example:

• My step mom's cooking
• My dad's holiday treats
• My aunt's cooking

Not to mention all the fast food stops while on the road.

I did a better job with exercising, but I was never in the groove and I had to improvise a bit. Here is my journal:

Monday, December 22: Weights (pre-trip)

Tuesday, December 23: Precor Stepper (pre-trip)

Wednesday, December 24: Off - traveling

Thursday, December 25: Hill repeats on my dad's mountain bike (3 times ~ 40 minutes)

Friday, December 26: Hill repeats on my dad's mountain bike (5 times ~ 1 hour)

Note: My dad's bike needs some work. The gears sometimes slip when I push too hard... which meant the hill repeats weren't as intense as I would have liked.

Saturday, December 27: Off - traveling

Sunday, December 28: Off - Busy with family

Monday, December 29: Stair repeats in hotel (16 stories 9 times, 45 minutes)

Tuesday, December 30: Weights (40 minutes) in hotel gym. Only free weights available.

Wednesday, December 31: Off

Thursday, January 1st: Stair repeats in hotel (16 stories 10 times, 50 minutes)

Friday, January 2nd: Off - Traveling

Saturday, January 3rd: Elipical Machine & Pullup intervals (moderate intensity)

Sunday, January 4th: Floor exercises and burpees (light intensity)

All in all, I managed to survive the holidays without too much of a setback. I didn't gain any weight and I managed to exercise enough to keep most of my fitness. But that isn't the complete picture. A couple weeks before the holidays, I caught a virus which curtailed a few key workouts, so in reality, the entire month of December was a complete wash.

That means that the next four weeks are going to be critical. The Empire State Building Run-up is only for weeks away and I'm going to have to train hard and eat right in order to do well. 

My fitness levels have to step up a notch and more importantly I need to lose 2-3 pounds before I start feeling race ready.

Lessons Learned:

• Pack more of my own food on road trips.
• Staying in a hotel with a decent stairwell was a big plus. I stayed at the Arlington Hyatt which has 16 floors and 240 steps. It was only $99 per night, but they get you with $23 parking (note to self - there was a nearby parking garage that was only $15 per day)
• Fix my Dad's bike.
• Walking around DC was tiring, but the exercise was welcome.

Duel on the 95th Floor

Die Nazi Bastard.

That pretty much sums up the train ride to Chicago.

The woman sitting ahead of me had a nasal voice reminiscent of Fran Dreshner from “The Nanny”.  But other than her voice, this woman was Fran’s diametric opposite – old, ugly, and mean.

I never quite figured out why she constantly asked for the time. After all, she used her smart phone on multiple occasions – and even I know that all modern phones have a time display*. From her loud conversations, she made it quite clear that she hated children (especially the “brat” sitting in front of her) and that she was “too good” for men (which explains why she is still single).

*I only use a cell phone when traveling and my cell phone might have been considered modern maybe 10 years ago.

When she wasn’t on the phone, she asked everyone around her when the train was going to arrive at the next station. You see, she suffered from Bronchitis and Emphysema (which I deduced from her non-stop coughing fits) and she declared that she needed to have a smoke break. Immediately.

I had to laugh when she proclaimed to the entire car that she was traveling in Hell. She took the words right out of my mouth!

I changed seats for a few hours to get away from all the noise and I managed to get a few hours of sleep. But apparently, my new seat was already claimed and when the owners returned, I was kicked out and had to go back to my original seat.

*I’d like to point out that when I initially switched seats I *did* ask the nearby passengers to make sure I wasn’t sitting in someone else’s seat. Clearly they were mistaken. When the owners finally returned (around 2:00 AM) I wasn’t about to argue with a couple of 6’3”, 200+ lb gentlemen.

I put in my ear plugs and dozed for a while, but when she yelled “Die Nazi bastard!” it was enough to wake up the dead (it was after all, Halloween night)*. 

*I can only assume she was watching the film “Dead Snow” on her smartphone.

At 4:00 AM I finally told her “Please be quiet until the sun rises” to which she replied “Leave me alone, I’m not feeling well!”

Indeed.

Afterward, I managed to close my eyes for a couple hours and even managed a short nap. But by 6:30 AM, the she-devil’s questions resumed in earnest.

The remainder of the trip went by fairly quickly. Although I was sleep-deprived, the old lady’s nonsensical self-conversations were quite amusing. Plus, she left the train car for a few extended periods (presumably to bother other people) and I was able to read a couple hundred pages of the “The Princess Bride” uninterrupted.

When the train finally arrived at Union Station, I met my friend (and host) David Hanley in the waiting area and together we headed to the Sears (Willis) Tower to pick up our racing bibs. At the pickup area we met up with Jason Larson and a few of his friends from Minneapolis. Since it was lunch time we decided to grab a bite to eat at Lou Mitchell's, an old-school Chicago eatery.

We were all pretty nervous about the upcoming race so four of us (Jason, Jessica, David and I) decided to kill time by taking a walk along the lake shore. Traffic turned out to be pretty heavy around Soldier Field since there was a pretty serious Rugby match starting between the All Blacks (Kiwis) and the Eagles (yes we do have a US rugby team), but David knew of a secret parking area. During our walk we learned a couple things:

•  My bladder is quite active when nervous.
• Rugby fans really like to drink beer and leave their cans lying about.

Good fortune smiled upon us as we came across a hidden stash of bottle water left by the drunken Ruby fans. Just the thing I needed to fuel my hyperactive bladder!

Well If I didn't, someone else would've

Another man's trash is another man's treasure

After our walk, we headed to dinner where we met up with most of our other West Coast Labels team mates. I won’t name everyone at dinner, but rest assured that most of the top climbers were present. Although David and I were some of the last climbers to leave the restaurant, there was enough time to get back to David’s house to unwind before going to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up at 5:30 and quickly readied my racing gear.

Breakfast you ask? 5.3 ounces of Greek yogurt & one large banana.

In the car we could see the Sears (Willis) Tower looming in the distance. A new wave of nervousness rushed over my body, but David and I kept chatting to relieve the tension.

We arrived at Sears (Willis) right at 6:18. T-minus 42 minutes until the start. I set the timer on my watch just to make sure I’d make it to the start line on time.

*Considering I was wearing a watch, you may be wondering why I bothered to set my timer. Answer: I just bought my watch on Friday and it didn’t come with directions. I have yet to figure out how to set the actual time… but I managed to figure out how to use the stop watch feature.

I decided to start my warm-up routine at T-minus 25 minutes. Until then I chatted with a few other climbers I hadn’t seen at dinner the previous night. Strangely enough, I didn’t have to use the bathroom – even though my nerves were taught and starting to fray around the edges.

With the countdown nearing the 25 minute mark, I started my warm-up routine. Five minutes of active stretching (high kicks, etc.) followed by 75 jumping jacks. Then I began my burpee routine to get my heart rate going: Intervals of 12 burpees followed by 2-3 minutes of rest. After my 3^rd interval I made my way to the start line. It was already packed, but I managed to snake my way through the crowd to get to the head of the line. Here I met all the other top climbers. After a few greetings and fist bumps, I excused myself for my final round of burpees. T-minus 6 minutes.

Note to self: the starting area is cordoned off by a single strap. Rather than fight through the crowds, next time just duck under the barrier.

Back in line we decided our starting order. In general, this is a pretty straightforward activity; Faster climbers line up before the slower ones in order avoid serious bottlenecks in the stairwell.

Do you recognize the water bottle?

For example, even though Justin Stewart (last year’s winner) didn’t really want to go first, nobody else wanted to go in front. We all knew we’d have to get out of his way pretty early in the race to let Justin pass by, which could potentially cost either racer a few precious seconds. Justin basically had to go first since he couldn’t find anyone willing to start in front.

However, there is a bit of strategy that comes into play for some of the other contested spots. By rights, I should have gone third – behind Eric Leninger, another former winner who is right up there with Justin – but I knew Ralf Hascher wanted a shot at the final podium spot. I knew he was going to be a big threat since he was only seconds behind me at the U.S. Championships at the Stratosphere. As such, I encouraged Ralf to go third so I could go 4^th. My logic was as follows:

I assumed Ralph would push pace early and would pass me pretty early in the race if I in front. Not only would that pass cost me precious seconds, I would then have to play catch up and pass him on the later floors in order to take the final podium spot. No easy feat.  I’d much rather start behind Ralf so I could climb up at my own pace for the majority of the race - until catching up to him, that is J.

Starting behind me would be a few of my other fast climbing friends. Knowing their relative climbing strengths I figured it was probably something like Oz, Jason, Josh, & Thomas but I don’t know for sure – my eyes were focused ahead rather than behind.

After a few quick announcements, the race was on. I thought they were supposed to start the elites about 7 seconds apart, but for the first few racers at least, they only gave us about 5 seconds. I crossed the timing mat about 15 seconds behind Justin.

Flashback…

Since this past spring, it has been an uphill battle to get back into shape (no pun intended). I was sick for a big part of the racing season and I was dreadfully out of shape when the Hartford race rolled around this past April. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was and how long it took to get back any semblance of racing fitness.

But I did it.

By September I my stairwell times had finally dropped and in October I was able to set a few training PRs. In the days leading up to Sears (Willis) I was pretty much where I was before I got sick last February.

So keeping that in mind, I set my goal pace at 14:30. Last year I posted a 14:53 at Sears (Willis) and since I was in slightly better shape, I figured I had a pretty good shot at breaking this goal. Other than that, I simply wanted to beat last years’ time – although I’d still be happy as long as I broke the 15 minute mark.

Now back to the race…

As I entered the stairwell, I set my metronome to 83 beats per minute, just a single BPM faster than last year. As long as I kept one foot on most of the landings, I knew that pace should get me pretty close to my goal*. To see my pacing logic, you may wish to read last year’s race recap.

*For those of you who are wondering what I’m talking about when I mention “metronomes “and “keeping one foot on the landings”, here is a short explanation: I use a metronome to keep my pace. On every beat of the metronome, I take one stride - usually taking two steps at a time. Keeping this pace is pretty easy on a straight flight of stairs, but really difficult when the staircase turns. The landing is the platform between each flight of stairs and in order to turn the corner really fast, you want to step on the landing (preferably with your inside foot) and then pivot around the handrail. When you place both feet on the landing, you often waste a whole beat on the turn, which slows you down.

The first few floors felt pretty easy. In fact, I managed to keep one foot on the landings even when pivoting on my outside (wrong) foot. As I progressed upward, I completely lost sight of Ralf, but I could see and hear Oz a couple flights below. I told myself not to panic because this was to be expected. I just hoped I could stay ahead of Oz for a little while longer. I didn’t want to start playing the leapfrog game with Ralf still ahead of us both.

A few minutes ticked by and I approach floor 25, roughly a quarter way up the building. To be on track for breaking 14:30, I wanted to hit the floor around 3:38. I was surprised to learn that I was pretty far ahead of pace – clocking in somewhere in the 3:20s (I can’t remember my specific time). Apparently my turning technique on the landings was really paying off.

At this point, I was still feeling okay, but my heart rate was already peaking. I knew I could continue for at least a few more minutes, but I wasn’t sure I could keep up the pace through the upper levels. I decided to start double stepping the landings anytime I landed on my outside foot, which should occur once every other landing. This was an easy concession; single stepping each landing was getting progressively more difficult as I was getting winded*.

*Single stepping the landings is faster, but it is also more tiring.

I glance down somewhere in the upper 20s or 30s expecting to see Oz hot on my tail. However, surprisingly enough it wasn’t Oz trailing me, but someone else I didn’t even recognize (I later discovered that it was racer #1045 – Evan Honse). I could feel his presence slowly closing the gap, but somehow I managed to stay a couple flights ahead.

I checked my watch at floor 51, pretty close to the midpoint of the race. I was right at 7:12 - just a few seconds ahead of my goal pace. I was pretty happy to still be on track, but warning bells were starting to ring. I had eaten through most of my cushion which meant my current pace was too slow. I didn’t really dwell on the fact – since my heart rate was sky high – I just kept climbing to the beat of my metronome.

In the upper 60s, I was pretty much climbing by myself. I lost contact with racer #1045 a little while back and Ralf was nowhere in sight. I was having a hard time concentrating on my technique. I was still handling the straight flights fairly well, but I was double stepping most of the landings. I kind of felt like I was hitting each and every landing on the wrong foot – although I know that can’t possibly be true. I was definitely bleeding time on the landings, but I didn’t really how much time it was costing me. I glanced at my watch. 9:41. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing goal wise, but it meant I only had about 5 more minutes of suffering to go.

I anxiously waited for floor #77 (the upper quarter) to see how far off I was from my goal pace. I was supposed to be around 10:53, but I figured that as long as I was close to 11 minutes, I still had a chance to make up lost time in the final sprint. In the early 70s I glanced at my watch again to see if I was anywhere near on pace. 9:41. that seemed pretty good.

It took me a couple more flights for that to sink in. Crap. My watch had stopped!

I didn’t panic. Although I was climbing blind (pace wise) I still had my metronome to keep me company. Plus, I was so tired by this point I didn’t really have any brain cells functioning to properly worry. It was all I could do just to hold on to my current pace.

I passed by floor #77 and I was nearing the home stretch. I couldn’t see Ralf ahead of me, but I could hear the volunteers cheering for him. I was finally closing the gap.

In the mid-80s, I could finally smell blood. Ralf was only a couple flights ahead of me. By the time we hit the 90s, I was right behind him. Our duel began in earnest.

Granted, my heart and lungs were beyond the point of no return and I couldn’t even speak, but my legs – the most effective weapons in my climbing arsenal – were still feeling pretty fresh. I surged ahead in the lower 90s but Ralf wouldn’t budge. He countered my blow with a jolt of acceleration and we climbed together for a few more floors. I tried to pass again with just under 10 floors to go, but yet again, Ralf wouldn’t move over. I couldn’t go around him easily on the stair case because the flights were too short. In addition, the railings were too close together to afford any room to pass. Ralf climbed even faster to fend of my most recent attack.

We cruised into the upper 90s and I pressured Ralf to go faster by keeping the distance between us as close as possible. He surged ahead and I matched his acceleration with a burst of speed of my own. I gave up trying to pass. It would cost too much energy to physically force my way through and clearly Ralf still had a little bit in the tank left to try and stop me. But I still held the advantage; as long as Ralf couldn’t drop me, victory would be mine – I had 5 second cushion and all I needed to do was defend my position.

Ralf made one last attempt to break free as we approach triple digits but I followed close behind. Together we burst out of the stairwell on the 103^rd floor. I had won our duel!

Before I collapsed to the ground, I took a look at the official race clock. It read 15:02, so calculated that I had finished in about 14:47. I had missed my 14:30 goal, but I beat my time from last year, so I was still pretty happy. Not only that, but I had managed to place ahead of both Oz and Ralf so my chances for a podium spot were looking good.

I lay on the ground for a couple minutes as other racers started to filter in. Although I was exhausted and my lungs burned, it only took a couple minutes to pick myself off the floor. For the next half an hour or so I chatted with other climbers and posed for photos on the Sky Ledge. Eventually David and I decided to go back down to the bottom and try to get in a 2^nd climb*.

*Yeah, you read that right - that’s what climbers do for fun.

At the bottom, we checked out our official times. My time was 14:45 and I was currently in 3^rd place! Even though there were still hundreds of climbers left to climb, I was pretty confident my podium spot would hold. Nearly all the competitive climbers had already climbed and since the stairwell gets pretty crowded, it would take a very strong athlete (like Justin or Eric) to post a 14:45 or less - passing people costs precious time and saps energy.

We bumped into Oz and Sue at the bottom.  They managed to sneak into the stairwell for a 2^nd attempt and were still full of energy and excitement - hard to believe, right? But true! Our prospects were looking good for a 2^nd climb.

We stood in line for about 15 minutes and were only seconds away from entering the stairwell when one of the volunteers approached us and forbade us from entering the stairwell. He told us, “You aren’t supposed to climb the building more than once. Sorry but I can’t let you climb again.” I don’t know how he knew it we had already climbed. Personally, I’m blaming David… they probably recognized his West Coast Labels shirt :)

But our wait wasn’t all for naught. While standing in line we did get a chance to get our picture taken in front of the Green Screen.

Eventually a group of us decided to go back to Lou Mitchell's for breakfast. I was hungry, and I happily accepted a couple donut holes (thanks Lou!) and an extra helping of fried potatoes (thanks Madeline!).

After breakfast, David and I headed back to his house for a quick shower and lunch. We talked about our most recent adventures and checked the final race results online. I barely managed to hold on to 3^rd place (Yes!) and David easily made the top 50. In fact, he set a PR by 61 seconds. Amazing! You can see the final results here.

The afternoon passed by quickly and soon enough it was time to go out for a bite of dinner. We met up with Sue, Madeline, and Marisol in Chinatown and found a nice restaurant to eat, relax, and socialize. After dinner, David dropped me off at Union Station to catch the overnight train.

We DID NOT eat here

The train ride home was thankfully uneventful. Not only was I able to sleep uninterrupted, but I was able to polish off the final few chapters of “The Princess Bride”. The train arrived in Schenectady around 4:45 PM the next day - only about 2.5 hours late. I hit the gym around 5:15.

Gotta keep my weapons sharp.

Effort: B+. Although it was all I could do to hold on in the 70s, I had a little bit left in the tank near the end of the race. I recovered a little too quickly to give myself an “A”.

Strategy: B+. My pacing was okay. I went out a little too fast and bled time later in the race. But it was good enough to prevent bonking at the top. I liked starting behind Ralf because it took some of the pressure off. However, that strategy fell apart when I was bottle necked in the mid-90s. It would have been much easier to pass in the mid-80s (where the rails are farther apart and the flights longer). Maybe I should have taken Justin’s offer to start first?

Technique: B-. I lost a lot of time double stepping the landings. I was sloppy from floor 30 onward.

Overall: B. If this was my first time climbing, I would have given myself a B+, but this was my 4^th time in the building. I made basically the same mistakes I did last year.

Final Thoughts: Although Ralf wouldn’t let me pass on the upper floors, I’m not angry. I did the same thing at the Stratosphere back in 2013. Anyway, he increased the pace each time I got close enough to pass, so I didn’t lose too much time. You can’t fault someone for racing, especially in a narrow stairwell at full speed. It comes with the territory.

If I were to do this race again, I’d probably keep my metronome at 83 BPM and pay special attention to the landings. I’d want to make sure I’d single step the landings at least once every other landing. Another possibility would be to use David’s step pattern (essentially single stepping the steps near the landings) and increase my overall pace to account for the slower turns. Food for thought.