The Big Climb

Last Sunday I participated in the 20th anniversary Big Climb for Leukemia. The picture at the right is the Columbia Tower, the tallest building in Seattle and the site of the "Big Climb". Key stats:

• 69 flights of stairs
• 1,311 steps
• 19 steps per flight
• 788 feet of vertical elevation
• 1,389 people finished the race

I've contemplated participating in this race ever since I went to fat camp and lost 80 lbs by working out on the step mill. This piece of machinery will Kick Your Ass! I vividly remember the first time my personal trainer told me to get on and try it for "oh five minutes or so on level 3." After about 2 minutes I had created a step mill waterfall of sweat that would nourish a small African village. Over time, I eventually worked up to level 14 for 45 minutes. Other people in the club would always look over as I jacked up the speed and started to work out. -- Finally after 3 years I decided to try this race and see how close the step mill reflects climbing actual stairs.

I arrived at the Columbia Center (know locally as the death star) about an hour before my assigned race time, found a parking spot in the garage, rode the elevator to the first floor of the building, and witnessed my first jackass. As I left the elevator, I noticed a lean "Earth Runner" type warming up for the race by sprinting up the down escalator. This guy was taking this pretty seriously. Why would someone do this?
I checked in, and made my way over to the area I was told to wait in. All around me, a ton of people were stretching, tying and re-tying their shoe laces, running in place etc. I began to question my training regime. The previous afternoon I had participated in a Texas hold-em tourney followed by a large sushi dinner with plenty of beer and wine. I woke up race day and went out for a large breakfast which included a pretty stiff cocktail. Had all of this work prepared me for the race?

The group I was racing with consisted of all types; young, old, male, female etc. After our group's race time was announced, we all rode up a series of escalators which took us to the start line. The way these tower climbs work is, about every 5-10 seconds, a racer starts by swiping their timing chip as they run into the stairwell and begin their race. Being a rookie, I was a little nervous about the correct procedures / etiquette. Do you allow people to pass you or is it like roller derby where you elbow people trying to pass you? If you are passing do you yell "Left" like they did in Spanglish? I didn't have much time to dwell on this because pretty quickly I was at the front of the line and the line police guy yelled "Go!"

I went. Like the wind. I swiped my chip and headed for the door leading to the stairwell. I took the first 8-10 flights at two steps at a time, looked down at my heart rate monitor, and did a double take. My heart rate was already at 158 beats per minute. I quickly realized that I wasn't going to be able to do this thing at 2 steps at a time. I dropped downed to 1 step at a time and tried to find by rhythm.

Things are different in the well. At first you notice the silence. Waiting for the race to begin, there is the general buzz of tons of nervous competitors and their families. As soon as you go through the stairway door, the buzz quickly disappears. The silence is deceptive, and is quickly replaced by other sounds. The clop, clop, clop of rubber soles on cement steps. My loud breathing and the breathing of other competitors begins to overpower the silence.
It is also hot and humid in the well. The heat is comparable to a wrestling room. Hundreds of exerting bodies have run these stairs before I started. The humidity is from both the exercising humans and also from the spilled water from the watering stations scattered every ten floors or so. The race facilitators try to alleviate the heat and humidity by running large fans spaced every few floors.

I pass my first competitor around floor eight. He is a large muscular guy, and he looks like his heart is about to explode. I continue to pass people as I make my way up. The further up I go, the worse people look. I tried to pace myself with the goal of not getting passed by anyone. The over heard the gal that started right after I did telling her friend that this was the eighth race she had run, and she was on my heals through about floor 30.
The middle floors of the race are sort of a blur. I know at one point I grabbed a cup of water, and still had the same cup of water at the next water station ten floors up. The race was worth it for the middle section alone. The best part of tough exercise has always been getting into the “hypnotic” rhythm. When you get into this rhythm, it seems like you could go all day.

My rhythm was broken in the last 10-15 floors by a bunch of Muslim children. How do I know they were Muslim? The girls were wearing head scarves. My only complaint about the race was this aspect. These kids were blocking the stairway and wouldn’t move over. Some of them were sitting on the stairs stating that they were dying. I managed after some struggle, to get around this bunch of kids, and before I knew it, I was through the finish line door and on the observation deck of Seattle’s Tallest Building. The views kick ass! Final time: 11 minutes, 58 seconds.

After catching my breath, I rode down the elevators and grabbed my free t-shirt. I’m looking forward to a sub ten minute performance next year.