Rundown of the Empire State Building Run-up

The 2015 edition of the Empire State Building Run-up is over and I’m having a hard time understanding the results. I was expecting to break 12 minutes this year, but with an official time of 12:50, my estimate was way off. In fact, I was even slower than last year (12:36 – albeit in a slightly shortened course).

What makes this race hard to digest – and this post hard to write – is that all the training leading up to the race and the pace I set in the stairwell seemed to indicate I’d have a pretty good shot at 12 minutes.

Although December was pretty much a wash with respect to training & fitness, January was very kind to me. I started off the month at a decent fitness level, but I ended the month in the best shape of my life. In addition to hard training, I focused on getting plenty of sleep and I went to bed early each and every night. I also lost a couple pounds by eating healthy and using the stairs during my coffee breaks*. As a result, I set a couple PBs on the stepper machine and inside the stairwell during my final week of training. 

*I don’t actually drink coffee, but I made sure to get up from my desk every couple of hours for a short break. During these breaks I’d climb up my building (6 tall stories ~ 27 meters) twice. It was enough exercise to get the blood pumping, but not enough to get soaked in sweat.

I also knew that I didn’t have a particularly strong performance in the 2014 edition of the race so I figured I had plenty of room to improve. A year ago, I was in great shape but was fighting off a virus which reared its ugly head after racing in Boston the prior weekend. Because I was worried about my health, I raced very conservatively at Empire and I figured I could easily shave off a good 30 seconds from my time this time around, which would put me pretty close to the coveted 12 minute mark.

Friend or Foe?
Answer: Both

The day of the race arrived with little fanfare. I had a decent night sleep, woke up, and went to work. I left work around 12:30 PM and relaxed at home for an hour or so before heading to the train station. I took the 3:10 train from Albany/Rennselaer down to Penn Station in NYC. I arrived at the Empire State Building around 6:00 PM and met up with my friends (and fellow Tower Masters) Steve Marsalese and David Tromp. We had about an hour to kill before they’d let us into the building so we tried to find a coffee shop to hang out at. No luck - It was rush hour in NYC. Fortunately, I knew of an indoor food court in K-Town that usually had free seats up on the 3rd floor. Sure enough, the place wasn’t very crowded upstairs and we hung out for the next half hour or so. 

And guess who we ran into at the food mall? Another Tower Master - Bruce Yang! Talk about luck*.

*Read my post from last year’s race to find out why Bruce is my lucky charm.

Tower Masters!

Just before 7:00 PM, David and I left Steve and Bruce (who were racing in a later heat) and headed over to Empire. The lobby was somewhat chaotic. All the elite climbers were just milling around. We were told to be there at 7:00 PM sharp – no earlier, no later – but very little information was being passed on to the climbers on where to go. So we all just hung out in the crowded lobby. After about 15 minutes of waiting, we were finally allowed to go upstairs, pass through security*, and check in our bags.

*For some reason the Empire State Building thinks it is more important than every other famous building in America (e.g. Sears Tower, Hancock Tower, etc.).

After bag check, I started my warm up and active stretching routine. We still had about 30 minutes until the start of the race so to keep myself ready, I simply did a round of 12 burpees every 4 minutes or so.

Soon the organizers gathered all the elite athletes and herded us downstairs to the start line. We still had 15 minutes to kill so I just continued my burpees in the hallway. I found the temperature to be uncomfortably hot and hoped the stairwell wouldn’t be as stifling*.

*Don't worry, the stairwell wasn't nearly as hot.

A few minutes before the official start, the race director, Steve Lastoe, announced a few individual climbers in the elite wave (including me!*) to the media & photographers before the start of the race. 

*I showed off my biceps. If you got’em, show’em.

Shortly afterwards, the ladies were off.  Now there were only four minutes left until the men’s start. 

The silence on the start line was oppressing, but I felt pretty chipper. I was nervous, scared, excited, and confident all rolled into mixed emotion. I couldn’t wait to get this race over with.

I was offered a starting position at the front of the pack, but I silently declined. I wasn’t planning on sprinting up the first few floors and I didn’t want to get in the way of the top competitors. 

Placed toward the back of the pack, I knew most of the athletes personally and a couple others by reputation. I already had a mental picture of how this race was going to turn out. Sproule, Christian, Darren, & Thor were the podium contenders and Tim Donahue would be in the hunt for 5th. Next would be David Tromp and me battling it out for mid-pack honors. Rounding out the race would be Jason, David Roeske (who I knew by reputation), Henry, Josh, Dr. Thomas, and Chris - more or less in that order. That left only three other guys on the start line that I didn’t know - most likely Europeans that would be putting pressure in the mid-pack.

My strategy was simple. I planned to get into the stairwell somewhere around 10th place, climb at an even pace throughout the race, and pick off climbers on the upper floors. I raced conservatively in 2014 using a pace of 87 - 88 beats per minute (BPM) on my metronome. Since I wanted to go at least 30 seconds faster this year, I set my metronome at the slightly higher pace of 92 BPM.

With 30 seconds remaining until the start, I turned on my metronome, readied my stop watch, and silently repeated my mantra: “A steady pace wins the race.”

Suddenly we were off. In a rush we all tried to squeeze through the stairwell door. I got stuck in the doorway for a few seconds, but with only 16 guys or so in the elite heat, it quickly thinned out. I ended up near the back of the pack (in lucky 13th place I believe). By the 4th floor I settled in behind Jason and in front of Henry. I was a little surprised that Henry didn’t sprint out ahead (like he did last year) but by the 8th floor or so he seemed ready to pass me and I let him by on one of the landings. Henry was one of the guys I was aiming to beat this year - having narrowly beat me last year - but I wasn’t worried. If last year was any indication of his racing style, I should be able to close the gap later on in the race. 

Jason was less than a flight ahead of me at this point with Henry sandwiched in the middle. The three of us kept the pace up for another few floors and I could smell Henry’s feet – he wasn’t wearing shoes in order to reduce the amount of weight he’d have to carry up the stairs. I silently prayed that Henry would pick up the pace a bit or slow down so I could pass; The combination of climbing pain and foot odor was becoming deadly!*

*I’m joking!

For the next few floors I was right on Henry’s heels; every time I’d turn the corner and reach up to grab the rail, I’d bump into Henry’s hands. Finally he let me pass by and several floors later I caught up to  and passed Jason. We were somewhere in the lower 20s. By this point, the stairwell changed from a series of switch backs (flight -- landing & 180 degree turn -- flight)  to just a single long flight connecting the floors followed by a  short run on the landings*.

*Nobody I know has ever had a chance to map out Empire's stairwell, but I learned something new during this climb: Not all flights from the 20s upwards are uniform. Many floors have just a single long flight, but many others have two flights (a short flight followed by a really long one). I have pictures of the latter case in my 2014 blog. Yeah, the difference between the two cases is pretty minor, but I'm a stickler for these kinds of details.

Jason was about half a flight behind me at this point and somewhere in the 30s we caught up to and passed Chris – who kindly stayed on the outside to give us plenty of room to pass. I also remember crossing a long hallway and nearly slipping on spilled water from the a water aid station. I don’t remember which floor it was on, but the moment my foot started to slide I thought of David Tromp; he recently told me that a few years ago he slipped and fell at an aid station… most likely at this very same spot!

Jason and I continued climbing together for the next 25 floors or so, but slowly my lead climbed to nearly a whole flight. As soon as I’d finish a floor I could hear Jason behind me starting it. This pattern continued up until the mid 60s.

I was grinding out floor after floor marching to the beat of my metronome. I could feel fatigue start to set in the 40s and by the 50s it was starting to get painful. We hit the 60s and it was all I could to hold on to my pace. 

At this point, I was no longer thinking about anything other than keeping pace and climbing. I remember passing Jamie Kate (from the Woman’s heat) somewhere along the way and giving her a tap of encouragement, but by the time I caught up to and Madeline I couldn’t even manage a grunt of acknowledgement. 

I had dropped Jason by the time I hit the 70s and was still cranking out my 92 BPM pace. I was catching up to another climber, too – I could hear him up above but couldn’t yet see him.

I thought I was doing fairly well at this point. At other races Jason is usually right on my tail and I knew Henry was further down below, so I figured I was in a pretty good position. Plus, I was hot on the trail of another climber. Could it be David Tromp? My lungs were ragged, but my legs were still pretty strong. Things seemed to be going to plan.

I glanced down at my watch to see how close I was to breaking the 12 minute mark. My watch read 11:50. What the heck*? 

*Cue brake screech.

I was still in the 70s  - at least a minute or so away from finishing. What was going on? With around 10 floors to go I’d be lucky to break even the 13 minute mark!

Time was running short and there weren’t very many floors left. I increased my pace and by the time I hit the 80s I was less than a flight behind the guy ahead of me. It was David… but not David Tromp. It was David Roeske! I slowly closed the gap and by the time we hit the 85th floor I was looking to pass, but there wasn’t any room to get through.

The last flight is a long one and leads directly onto the observation deck. I moved to the right to try and squeeze by, but I David was in the center grabbing both sides of the rails and I didn’t have enough speed to break through. David slipped on the final few steps and for a brief moment I thought I had a chance to finally go around but as he fell, I lost my forward momentum. David quickly recovered and managed to stay a step ahead. I don’t exactly know what killed my speed, but I suspect there is an immediate left turn as you exit to the observation deck and I was on the outside lane (which is a longer - and therefore slower path)*. The other likely scenario is that as David fell I simply didn’t have any room since I was basically right behind him. At any rate, it took us both by surprise and slowed us both down.

*Hopefully someone can confirm the actual layout of the course.

I had one shot left. I could still pass on the observation deck where there would be more room to maneuver. The finish line was in sight – albeit closer than I remembered from 2012 – and I continued on the right hand side to pass on the straight away.

To my absolute horror, there was a girl from the women’s elite wave jogging directly between us and the finish line. At that moment, I knew I was totally fucked. She was on the left side so David slid over to pass her on the right side – effectively cutting off my passing lane AGAIN. We both passed the girl with David still slightly ahead.  The finish line was only yards away and there was little I could do. We jostled for position but there wasn’t enough time or space to pass – especially on tired legs. We crossed the line with David literally a half a step ahead. After finishing, I sat down on an empty foot stool just beyond the finish line and looked down at my watch. It had just passed the 13 minute mark when I finally turned it off.

I sat there completely spent in the cold February air wondering what the heck happened to my race. I heard the announces call out Jason, Madeleine, Jamie Kate, and a few other climbers and when I had finally recovered enough to walk around again. Although I was upset at having a mediocre finishing time, I was happy the race was over. Racing up one of the most iconic buildings in the US and giving it your all is something to be proud of.

Jason, Josh, and I hung out on the deck for a few more minutes to admire the NYC skyline at night, but being a cold day in February wearing only shorts and tank tops, we soon headed downstairs to the 80th floor for the post-race award ceremony. It was nice to finally chat with the other climbers, change in to warmer clothes, and grab a bite to eat. A TV monitor displayed the times and there I learned that I was 12th overall and the 11th male athlete. I had missed my top ten spot by a fraction of a second  - David Roeske and I were both given a time of 12:51. You can see the full results here*.

*You’ll notice that in the official results I’m actually listed one spot ahead of David with a time of 12:50. My chip time was likely faster than his because he started the race in the front row and I started at the back (meaning his timing chip would have started a second or two before mine). However, make no mistake… David crossed the finish line ahead of me.

"The Ghost" & "The Schenectady Express"

Several of us then headed downstairs the Restaurant/Bar on the ground floor. I met up with some of the other Tower Masters and had a long chat with Darren’s kids and a short chat with Napolean about implementing “age group” rankings for older athletes on TWA. It makes a lot of sense. Currently, to get points in the TWA, you need to be in the top 30. At a competitive race like Empire, the cutoff is really tough to make. In fact, without age group rankings, there is little incentive for older athletes to get a TWA license. As the “Athletes Representative” for TWA, I’ll have to bring up that point to the council.

Around 10:25 David Tromp and I had to head back to Penn Station to get the last train back to Albany. On the train we both had  beer and chatted about the race, college days at Clarkson, and ski lessons (our kids are taking lessons at Maple Ski Ridge) before taking a well-deserved nap. 

The train came in at 1:22 AM and a few minutes later, David and I said our goodbyes in the parking lot. The drive home was uneventful, but took a bit longer than usual because it had started to snow. When I arrived home, I quickly took a shower and went to bed. My body was tired, but my mind kept replaying the events of the race. Not only was I upset at about failing to pass at the end of the race, but more importantly, I couldn’t explain how my time was slower than last year. I finally fell asleep at 3:00 AM.

Race Grades:

Effort: A- ; I went out at a reasonable pace and kept it throughout the race. After floor 60 it was tough, but I kept going. My only criticism is that I didn’t pick up the pace when I crossed into the 70s. Although my lungs were burning, my legs still had power to give.

Strategy: B- ; My strategy “a steady pace wins the race” works well in time trials, but less so in a mass start since position can be critical. Passing is tough near the end of a race. Getting into the stairwell in 13th place didn’t help. 

Technique: B- ; I climbed efficiently, but lost time on the landings.

Overall: B ; Honestly, I thought I had a good race up until I checked my watch and realized I was nearly a minute off of my goal. However, I put in a pretty good effort, so I can’t say I had a bad race. I'm just not pleased with my overall time.

Final Thoughts: I’m still having trouble understanding how I could be slower than last year by about 10 seconds and nearly a minute slower than my 12 minute goal time – considering I set my metronome at a faster pace. I’m still confused, but I know the clock didn’t lie. After considerable thought, here are some reasons why I went slower. 

1. The stairwell was initially more crowded this year. In 2014 there were 9 climbers and this year we had 16. I definitely lost a few more seconds waiting to get into the stairwell. This year I started the race in 13th place, ahead of only Henry, Josh, & Dr. Thomas.
2. This year I jostled for position with Henry for the first 15 floors. Letting him pass on the inside also cost me a second or two. He stayed ahead for only 10 floors or so, and although I was able to march to the beat of my metronome while climbing, I’m sure I lost time on the turns (as I bumped up behind him). 
3. After the race was over, Jason and I discussed how we climbed in the middle of the race. It turns out that I pulled ahead of him on the stairs, but then he’d catch up on the short run between flights. Apparently, I was bleeding time during these short runs. Even if I only bled a quarter second or so each floor, I probably lost a good 15 seconds over the course of the race (compared to Jason). Of course, the real question is how did I do this year compared with last year? That is a tough question, but I have a feeling I went slower this year. Looking back on my notes from last year, I climbed at a fairly easy pace and I was alone for the vast majority of the time. As such, I was able to pay more attention to my technique on the landings (in fact, I even described my technique in my blog). I’m guessing I lost maybe 15 - 20 seconds compared with last year, but made up some of that time with a faster climbing pace on the stairs.
4. This race has a substantial running component and I estimate there are about 3 minutes worth of running*. Assuming I can do the entire race in about 12:30 minutes (which I still think is possible) that means that nearly 25% of the race is on flat ground where my metronome never came into play. In addition, I’m definitely not a runner so I’m at a pretty significant disadvantage compared to the other athletes (most of which who are runners). I now suspect that my goal time of 12 minute was too optimistic. I have a feeling 12:15 would have made more sense.

I feel like a cop-out for saying this, but I don't think Empire is my kind of race. It is a long course, which requires a bit of running, and had a mass start. Basically, it plays to all my weaknesses. If I ever get invited back, I'll have to dial back my expectations to 12:30 or so.

Lessons Learned:

• Start position matters. Being bottle-necked in the stairwell entry is a waste of time and energy.
• Passing is very difficult at the end of a race. It is much better to be in front rather than behind. Strangely enough I was in this exact same position at the Sears (Willis) Tower back in November. Sears was a time trial so it didn’t quite matter as much, but the mass start at Empire is a whole different ballgame. David Roeske taught me a lesson I won’t soon forget – and I have to give him props for staying in front when it mattered most.
• In a mass start, a metronome is useful, but don’t become a slave to the beat. Sometimes a quick surge to pass or create space is better than slowly jockeying for position over the course of several floors.
• Don’t wait till the end of the race to pass. Make a strong move with at least 5 floors to go. 

There (Vegas) and Back Again

Vegas. Clown cars. Stairwells. USSCA Championship. It was an adventure.

For the past few weeks I’ve been steadily improving. Not only did I manage to drop a couple pounds, but I set several PBs in training. My confidence should have been sky high but it wasn’t. Two weeks before the race I pulled one of my quadriceps muscles on my left leg. I assumed it happened during one of my Friday “power hours” in the stairwell, but I only noticed it the following Monday during my leg blasting workout (lunges, squats, etc.). The muscle felt tight rather than sore, but I still managed to finish my work out successfully and gave it little thought. However at the end of the week, my leg still felt a bit off – despite setting another PB inside the stairwell. The following week, I toned down my leg blasting workout and then set another record on the Precor Stepper. Obviously the results were positive, but my leg felt strangely weak (in addition to the stiffness). In the days leading up to Strat I tapered of my workouts and kept my fingers crossed that the weakness would recede.

Friday rolled around and it was time to depart. I had a quick workout during lunch – forgoing my pacing exercises, instead doing 3 minute intervals on the elliptical machine followed by a sets of 20 pull-ups. It go the heart pumping without exacerbating my strained quad. After lunch I finished up a few tasks at work and then headed home for a brief rest and last minute packing check. I got to the airport around 4:45, headed through security, and went to my gate. There I learned my flight was delayed for a couple hours and I’d probably miss my connecting flight. They booked my on a different flight on Saturday morning, which would still get me into Vegas by during the afternoon. On the downside I had wasted a half day of vacation for nothing. But on the upside, I’d get to sleep in my own bed and still make it to Vegas on time. Not really a fair trade, but it still worked.

 

Hi Sue

I made it to Vegas the following day and took the 108 bus to the Stratosphere*. I met up with David Hanley and dropped my things off. Then we hooked up with a bunch of other fellow climbers at the ALA “before climb” party at the top of the tower. At the party I nabbed my #1 race bib and timing chip.

*The 108 North is one of the best and cheapest ways to get to the Stratosphere. It takes you right from Terminal 1 and drops you right at the north end of the Strat’s Casino. The bus stays off of the Strip so the ride only takes 20 minutes.  It was the best $2 I spent the entire trip.

After hanging out with everyone, I had a quick dinner with the Ronks and then headed back to the room. I brushed my teeth and crawled into bed. I read for a few minutes and soon fell asleep. It was just past 8:30. I was tired and still on East Coast time.

The next morning, I awoke around 5:30. I read silently for a bit and then had a light breakfast (an orange and a couple small oatmeal bars). Soon David was up and we chatted for a bit before getting changed for the race.

Around 7:15 I left the room and headed toward the start line to chat with a few other climbers. No sense being nervous alone.

Around 7:25 I taped up my fingers* and headed to the gym to start getting warmed up. I ran into Michael, Josh, Maggie, and Sproule who were already warming up. I did a quick active warm-up and then spent 6 minutes on the Precor Stepper. Just like at home. Before leaving, I chatted with Sproule who was slowly pedaling on the recumbent bike.

*The stairwell has a rectangular cross-section which gives me blisters. Rather than wear gloves (which I hate) I use athletic tape to help prevent them from occurring.

“So Sproule… why are you in Vegas? I figure you are either 1) Chasing points or 2) Looking to set the course record… or perhaps both?”

“Hey, I’m just here to race! I’ve been out for so long I have no idea what to expect.”

So says the 4^th place finisher at Empire. Enigmatic as always.

We wished each other luck and I headed to the starting area to change into my racing shoes and check in my bag. After a couple rounds of burpees, I made my way to the starting queue.

The starting 5 was pretty much lined up the way I expected our finish order to be: Sproule, Me, Oz, Jason, Josh, and Dr. Thomas.

Here was my take on the podium contenders. I figured Sproule pretty much had the race in the bag, unless he had a poor race and either Oz or myself pulled a rabbit out of the hat. I figured I’d be favored to secure the 2^nd spot, but I knew that Oz was in fantastic shape and 2^nd place wasn’t assured. The truth is that when Oz is at his best, I can’t compete with him in a tall climb (like Sears), so in a medium height climb like the Stratosphere we were gonna be rolling the dice Vegas style. The dark horse of the race was likely Jason. He was looking to finally break onto the podium; Ever since Sears a couple years ago he’s been hot on my trail…. and I knew sooner or later my luck would run out. Fortunately, I didn’t think it would happen today. Jason had just competed (and won) a race in Minneapolis the day before, so I assumed he wouldn’t be climbing at 100%.

While waiting in line, I did a final set of burpees. Then, a few minutes before 8:00 AM, the organizers marched inside the building up a few flights of stairs to the starting line (the entrance to the core’s main stairwell). We were all pretty nervous, so we just chatted with one another as we waited for the official start.

Several minutes ticked by and we were still waiting. It was already well past 8:00 AM when we found out that one of the volunteers (emergency crew perhaps?) had hit their head and needed to be taken out of the stairwell. Meanwhile, I was no longer properly warmed up, so I did a set of burpees in the hallway to keep my heart-rate up and my body warm. It must have been a pretty serious injury because by the time we finally started the race (maybe 30 minute late?) I had already completed 3 rounds of burpees.

Finally the organizers got the “all clear” message and it was time to get the race started. Everyone wished each other luck (again) and the race was on. Sproule entered the stairwell as I turned on my metronome and got my stopwatch ready. I followed him in 30 seconds later.

I’ve done this race a couple of times before, although both times I wasn’t happy about my performance. In 2013, I went out too conservatively (at 90 BPM) and played catch up during the latter half of the race, finishing with a time of 7:57. In 2014, I went out a little too fast (at 97 BPM) and ended up slowing down during the 2^nd part of the race, finishing with a time of 7:56. This year I was in better shape so I decided to give 97 BPM another shot. With luck, I figured I might be able to break 7:45. At worst, I figured I’d still be able to break the 8:00 mark.

I hit the stairwell running but quickly settled into my 97 BPM pace as I climbed up the 2^nd flight of steps. The pace felt easy and I tried to stay relaxed. I focused on keeping one step on the landings and keeping up to the beat of my metronome.

Time slipped by and within a couple minutes the pace was beginning to get difficult. I scanned the stairwell for location markers* and I was somewhere in the 300s. I kept on climbing and soon I was in the mid-400s, which is the approximate half way point. I glanced down at my watch when I got into the upper 300s (probably 370s, but I’m not sure) and I was right around 3:50. I was pleased, because I knew I was pacing myself just under my goal time of 7:45.

*I didn’t memorize Stan’s chart of the Stratosphere, but basically the “tower core” section doesn’t have any true floors. Instead, there are various position markers given in vertical feet. When you get about 800 feet up, you enter the occupied levels: floors 101 through 108 which uses a more traditional stairwell.

As I crossed into the 500s I was really starting to feel it. I still had some energy left in the tank, but I wasn’t sure I could last another 3-4 minutes. I double stepped a couple of the landings, but I fought back and single stepped the next few*. Last year I had already given up by this point and I was determined not to succumb this time around.

*for those of you who aren’t stair climbers, this warrants an explanation. To save time, it is best to place a single foot on the landing, pivot 180 degrees on the ball of your foot, and continue climbing the next flight of stairs. If you place both feet on the landing, it means you just wasted a half second or so (basically taking a one-step mini break).

In the 600s I was fighting a losing battle with the turns. I started double stepping the landings pretty regularly, although I managed to hold on to the beat while climbing. When I got into the upper 600s I was nearly at my limit. My brain was basically in the “off” position although a single coherent thought crossed my mind “Hey – at least the flights are pretty long!*”

*Translation: Thankfully the stairwell doesn’t have very many (slow) turns.

At this point I was begging the markers to accelerate through the 700s, but alas they were still plodding along at a leisurely pace. I knew I had only a couple more minutes to go, so I kept up the brutal pace.

Suddenly I crossed through the fire door into the occupied section of the tower. This is the only tricky section of the climb because the fire door brings you to an intersection where you can go either left or right. It isn’t clearly marked and even if you *know* you are supposed to turn right, it is still pretty tricky because your brain doesn’t always remember things when it is oxygen deprived. Better climbers than I have screwed up this intersection and I didn’t want to be the next victim. My brain screamed “turn right” and thankfully I turned right.

The fire door took me by surprise and it honestly took me a couple of flights to convince myself that I was indeed inside the occupied section which is the essentially the home stretch of the race. I was supposed to be accelerating up these final few flights but I was pretty much in a daze. I tripped on the next floor but caught myself before I fell.  I wanted to sprint, but my body had a different idea. I climbed a few more flights and tripped again, barely managing to stay upright. Yep. Sprinting wasn’t gonna happen*. “Just keep climbing” I silently told myself.

*I may have tripped a 3^rd time too, but I honestly can’t recall.

I remember hitting floor 107. I knew there was only one floor left to go, but it took me a moment to actually believe it. My body was shutting down but I managed to haul myself up the last couple flights. I crossed over the finish line, glanced at my watch (about 7:51) walked a few steps, turned off my watch (7:54) and collapsed to the ground.

I was in rough shape. As lay prostrate on the floor waiting for my heart-rate to come down, I was in so much physical pain that my mind was a complete blank. After about a minute or so, I crawled to one of the recovery chairs and put my legs up*. I barely even noticed that Oz had crawled next to me and he did the same thing. After a couple minutes Oz was able to get back up, but I needed a couple more minutes to catch my breath. Believe it or not, I was actually in worse shape than Oz who is well known for his post race collapses. At some point we discussed our times. Oz clocked himself in at 7:54, which was only a few seconds slower than my unofficial time of 7:51.  Although I had a slight advantage, the race was too close to call - it is pretty common for self-timed results to differ from the official chip times by a few seconds.

*I’m not sure it really helps, but that’s what Mr. Paradis, our cross country coach, had us do after practice back in High School.

Finally I dragged myself off of the floor and grabbed a glass of orange juice and a banana. I was still tired, but my senses were coming back. I sat down next to Mark Trahanovsky and Sproule and I closed my eyes to listen to their conversation – I didn’t have enough energy to chat, although it was pretty clear that Sproule had won the race by a good 30 seconds. They left after a few minutes (Mark offered to drive Sproule to the airport) so I sat there alone eating my banana. Normally, eating a banana takes only a few seconds, but I had to eat this one slowly. My stomach was having trouble tolerating solid food. When I finished, I lay down on the couch to rest a few more minutes. I was still pretty in pretty bad shape.

After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally ready to join the rest of humanity. After chatting with a few of my fellow climbers, we gathered for one big team photo and then headed back down to get ready for our first US Stair Climbing Association (USSCA) meeting.

I took a quick shower, ate a granola bar, and headed to Madeleine’s room for the meeting. I was running late, but so was everyone else.

The meeting was pretty quick. Suffice it to say, I’ll be serving as the interim President until we become incorporated as an official non-for profit, and our first order of business is getting incorporated. I have a feeling it is going to take a lot of work – and I’m not sure I’m the best person to get things done, but I think I can at least get the organization formally recognized before the end of the year. That will have to suffice for now. We quickly finished the USSCA kickoff meeting and headed to the award ceremony.

Looking at the published results, I had officially took 2^nd place, just a few seconds ahead of Oz. More importantly, I was less than 30 seconds behind Sproule – which was one of my unofficial goals for the race. Rounding out the top five were Jason and Josh respectively in yet another tight race. The biggest upset (in my opinion) was Jeff taking 6^th overall, edging out Dr. Thomas by single digits. On the women’s slide, I finally got the chance to meet the winner, Stephanie Hucko, as well as 3^rd place Kacie Cleveland. You can see the full results here.

*Stephanie is originally from Australia. Go figure.

Later we headed to Randy’s house for his annual “Scale the Strat BBQ". By that point my energy had mostly returned, and I was feeling almost normal again, although I still had a slight headache left over from the race. The food was great and the companionship even better.

Where are we?

After the BBQ, a bunch of us (12 to be exact) climbed into David’s minivan and headed back to the Strat (watch the video here). We decided to spend the rest of the day exploring the various casinos on the Strip… intent on finding all the hidden staircases Vegas had to offer and climb them. The coolest set of stairs we found was at the [*]. The complex is shaped like a [*] and we found one staircase that follows the inner sidewall – snaking itself around to hug the side of the building. Because of the angle, you could see the entire staircase all at once. We were like kids in a candy shop.

*Deleted by admin to protect identity of the building. No sense in having the casino find out about our little escapade. I don’t want them to close the stairwell to the public and ruin the fun for future climbers. Contact me for details if you ever find yourself in Vegas and want to see the stairwell for yourself.

After dinner at the casino, it finally time to head back home. “Z” gave me a ride to the airport around 11:00 PM and while checking in, I learned my flight was cancelled! I’d have to stay another 24 hours in Vegas… and miss another day of work. I took the 108 bus back to the Stat and asked a friend to let me crash at their place overnight. It was nearly 2:00 AM by the time I go to bed.

The next morning I was running on fumes. I was tired, but I didn’t have a good night’s rest (since I was still stuck on East Coast time).

I gave Michael a call before checkout and found out he was also at the Strat, literally two doors down the hallway! I closed my phone and chatted with him in the hallway to discuss plans for the day.

I hung out with Michael and Ariel for the rest of the day. We hit the Mob Museum in downtown Las Vegas. It is an excellent museum and well worth the $20 cover charge to get in. My only complaint is that the topic is depressing: Illegal business & murder. Thoroughly interesting, but also pretty morbid.

After dropping Ariel off at the airport, we went out to eat with Steve, his dad (who lives in Vegas) and one of his buddies from New York. Holsteins - best burger on the strip.

Michael dropped me off at the airport after dinner and I hopped on a plane back to the East Coast. I got maybe a couple hours of sleep on the plane so I was running on fumes by this point. When the flight landed in Philly, I found out my flight to Albany was cancelled. I was pissed. I accidentally walked out of the terminal trying to find the help desk* so I ended up going to ticketing and then spending another 30 minutes getting back through security. I was scheduled to get on the next flight, but it was completely full and I was put on standby (after all, there was an entire plane of people that was stuck in the airport). The lady at the terminal help desk told me there was less than a 50% chance I’d be able to leave Philly that day because of a bit of bad weather coming in later that afternoon.

*Hard to believe I’d miss the big red exit only sign… but my brain wasn’t functioning clearly.

“Fuck it, I’m renting a car” I thought to myself and walked out of the airport.

I met up with another stranded passenger and offered to give her a ride back to Albany. It turned out she was a friend of an old co-worker so at least we had something in common to talk about during the 4 hour drive. I drove and she navigated. I finally got back to Albany in the mid-afternoon and after taking a quick shower, I took a long much needed nap.

Moral of the story: Vegas is awesome, but getting there & back sucks eggs.

Race Grades:

Effort: A+ ; Looking back, I honestly didn’t think I put that much effort into the race up until 600s, but the clearly the aftermath of the race tells a different story; the only race where it took longer to recover was at the US Bank Tower in 2012. Maintaining the pace through the 700s and the final 7 floors clearly took a lot out of me. For my own sake, I hope that never happens again.

Strategy: B+ ; “A steady pace wins the race” really fits the Stratosphere. 97 BPM was a decent pace for this building, but it was slightly too fast for my present condition. A slower pace would have worked better overall. Say 95 BPM? Maybe even 94 BPM?

Technique: A- ; I climbed efficiently, but lost time on the landings during the latter half of the race, mainly because I was so doggone tired. Fortunately, the relatively long flights (with fewer landings) mitigates some of this. I definitely used the rails to haul myself up the building and I have a blister to prove it – even with all the athletic tape (right ring finger, on the “fat” part closer to the pinkie side).

Overall: A ; This is a solid A. In my current condition (or at least my condition on race day) I’m probably capable of a 7:40 in this building with the right pacing. But who knows? Back in 2013, I climbed in 7:57 and had plenty of energy to spare in the latter half of the race because went out pretty slow (at 90 BPM). After the race, I thought I was capable of a 7:30… and I know I’m in better condition today.

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.

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

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.