"Scale the Strat" 2012 -- On Top of the World

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Ceasars Palace gym workouts under my belt...
healthy protein, salads and fruits ingested...
treated the night before with Rao's pasta followed by literally laughing out loud for an hour and a half at an outrageously funny show...

...now I sit down to my pre-race breakfast on Saturday, March 3rd. This time going with peanut butter and honey on nine-grain toast, banana and of course another pitcher of water.

Clothes laid out the night before with the same meticulous planning as the 6:45 a.m. wake-up call, breakfast order, inspirational music, precise time to catch a cab, and the mental pictures in my head of the stairwell with the times I expect to see on my watch at floor 54, 98 and 108.  Jesse said based on my John Hancock race time, I should be able to climb the Stratosphere in 30 minutes.  In my mind, I planned for finishing between 35 and 37 minutes.

Prayer, meditation, self-hypnosis.  Moving through the minutes without looking at a clock. The last shoe on, bag over shoulder, and out the door nonetheless, like clockwork.

In the elevator down, I decide to stop at Mezzanine level and walk to the Spa and gym entrance.  At this point, I cannot say exactly why I take specific steps or make certain decisions.  The day is rolling along as if pre-determined and yet full of discovery all at the same time.

Working at the desk happens to be a friend of three years, and I beam from ear to ear as he exclaims, "You've gone from good, to amazing!" or something to that effect.  It's not the words, but rather, the support and connection--since my family and friends are many miles away, it's good to have these moments of greeting and good wishes.  Now off to the Stratosphere.

In the mild sunny weather, my cab circles out of Ceasar's driveway to the strip. The driver, a woman in her fifties, and I begin talking right away. She's astounded I'm about to climb 108 floors and begins to tell her story.  It's difficult to exercise with her schedule driving the 3:00 a.m. shift. Even the two stories she climbs each day to get her cab hurts her knees. She's also nursing her 27 year-old son after his accident.  No time. Aches settling in. Worse each day.

I recommend drinking lots of water.  As I explain some deep breathing exercises for her, I begin to hear a shift in her voice.  Hopeful, she declares, "I'm going to do that! Thank you for telling me about this."  I go a step further, introducing her to healing techniques she can incorporate with the breathing. 

We reach the Stratosphere and now we're more than driver and passenger. She's as excited about this sunny day in her life, as I am about mine. When we part I feel like no matter what happens next, it's already been a great day!

I intentionally arrive by 9:30 for my 11:15 a.m. start time in order to take it all in. Small waves of climbers are released into the stairwell every fifteen minutes.  What I don't know yet is that first they walk up six flights of stairs together, then wait on that level to actually start the race 30 seconds apart.

In the meantime I register, arguing for a Medium t-shirt. I must get out of the habit of ordering a Large ahead of time -- an old habit from years of being overweight. I attach the timing chip to my sneaker, check my gear, crank up my iPod and take a walk outside. 

At this point it's impossible to be still, constantly moving--walking briskly, a little running, stretching, drinking, pacing, exploring...moving, moving, moving.  Upstairs to the lounge where I discover the 4-way split screen of the stairwell. Back down outside where participants are waiting their turn.  Back up...heard there were professional pictures offered, so took advantage of it pre-race, back down for another walk.

I meet Scott, an airline employee from Dallas, who in recent months has fallen in love with stairclimbing.  He studies Youtube videos by stair climbers--the same ones I found. When he learns that Jesse Berg is my trainer he's in awe saying, "You know, I get my training by watching Jesse, PJ and all the others in the videos!"  I realize anew how fortunate I am to have the opportunity to know Jesse and learn from him. 

The announcer calls my wave to the entrance. Loud club music is pounding the pumped up nerves we all have.  It's all good. I talk with a young man who is climbing for the first time.  A track runner, he reminds me of my son.  I tell him what I know, convinced he will do well. Next, we casually walk together up six flights of stairs to the start.

For the first time I wear a watch. It's actually 11:44:30 when I hear, "Go!"  Another first for me -- I start off skipping steps, leaning forward, hands pulling up on the rail, right then left then right then left...almost feels like gliding up the stairs.  I have the sense that when I get this thing up to speed some day, it will feel like flying!

If only my work was limited to legs, core, glutes and arms!  Too bad there's this whole other aspect of breathing!! By the third floor skipping steps, I no longer notice how it feels like gliding, but rather, how much more quickly my breathing is seriously labored...enough so, to take me back to single steps at a time.  This I know. I can keep my pace here.

Watching the floors tick off can be painful psychologically because somehow the numbers seem to stand still...shouldn't this be 34?  Not 31.  Happens over and over.  Yet every once in awhile when I catch a good floor number and glance at my watch, I think something is wrong with the time.  Now it's standing still.  How can that be?

I get confused, but keep putting one foot in front of the other.  As soon as water is available, I stop for a pointed-bottomed paper cupful and attempt to calm my breathing. Back on the stairs.

At floor 52, a volunteer cheers me on and says, "Hey, why don't you try skipping steps?" 

I think, "Hey, why don't you mind your own business and stick to cheering me on!"  But something in his suggestion actually propels my foot past the single step and I go back to skipping steps for another two floors.  At floor 54 it seems like my watch says I made it there in 8 minutes!

I stop briefly again whenever water is offered, and sometimes for a second or two at the top of the long flights. With each one, it's my breathing that slows me down.

My plan is to start running at floor 98. This is where I need a push, shove, mental leap...something, because I don't do it.  I keep my same pace, thinking I have to in order to breath at all. 

At some point up there, we hit a spot of fresh air, do a few funny turns and I'm in the home stretch.  Scott had mentioned someone told him when you get to the nicely painted white and yellow floors, you're near the end and that's when you can pour it on if you have it.

Coming up behind another older woman climbing steadily, I mention, "It's good to see these floor numbers now!" 

She answers, "We don't have anything like this where I'm from in Iowa."

I let out a, "Good for you then for doing this!!"  However, now I'm determined to pass her.  I'm from Chicago!

It's way late, but I slip around her on a landing, and run up the last two floors.

On the final step I glance up at the cameraman, full of joy.

Down the hall to the volunteers,

sinking into one of the black comfy chairs...

one big smile,

no discomfort.

They rip the timing chip off my shoe asking, "Are you sure you're Ok?"

Glancing at my watch...

I just climbed the Stratosphere in 28 minutes...

...much more than Ok!

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P.S.  Turns out I was third out of three women in my age group!  That's fine...it was a big personal improvement from the race six days before...and, next year will have a different ending.

P.P.S.  Six days before, it took me 42 minutes to climb the John Hancock building!