Climbing 80 Floors
Arriving Sunday at 8:45, for a 9:45 a.m. start-time, we navigate the Aon Center's oddly designed underground parking fairly easily, having beat the crowd.
Same with the lines waiting to climb. Over 2,000 climbers ready to enter one stairwell, all on the same morning, requires extreme organization. The people involved in putting on the Aon climb are very friendly. However, it is one of the least organized starting experiences. I approach the line at 9:05. No one checks my start time.
Realizing I forgot my stopwatch, I add this to the list of reasons I don't feel prepared. Glancing at the clock--9:16--I enter the stairwell.
At first climbing is easy. Energy abounds...I happily tick off the flights.
By the 8th floor I start wondering if they will have a water station at floor 10 like last year.
10, no water station...fooled me, it's on 11...and then again on twenty-one, thirty-one, forty-one and so on.
I dedicate the first thirty floors to my husband today. He is always supportive, no matter what venture I'm on. He waits for me on the main level, my paraphernalia in hand, not knowing how long the wait will be, but patient nevertheless. My foundation.
On floor 40, I long for water. Breathing heavily. Heart racing.
On 41, stopping to take a drink,
I long for this to be over.
Not an option. I've decided to do this.
Thinking I don't want to drop the water cup in the barrel and return to the stairs, I suddenly remember my plan for floors 30 - 50.
I begin climbing again, this time thinking of Fern Garcia--my friend's mother who passed away last week. I told myself I'd climb floors 30 to 50 in her honor. She struggled physically in the last years of her life, but her legacy is one of strength, character, persistence, consistency, adventure, and love. She did not dwell on the negative. Her spirit is a feisty one. I honor her and think of her, hoping to borrow some of her "feisty-ness" to get up these stairs.
Lost in my little stairwell world, wondering how to turn a feeling of suffering into something positive, grasping at thoughts to distract...all of a sudden I see Kristin Frey double-stepping her way up from the flight below.
Like a breath of fresh air, in this has-to-be 95 degree stairwell, seeing her I smile and call out, "Hi Kristin!" She comes up beside me and asks if she can climb with me for awhile.
Of course I say yes, but understand that I climb far too slowly for her--she's ranked the number two woman stair climber in the world! She has won every single tower in Chicago, and more. Not only does she climb faster than almost every other women, but also faster than most of the men. She climbed earlier and won the women's division with a time of 10:49 Now she's just climbing again for fun.
Slowing down her double-step next to me, Kristin tries to match my slow single-step timing. We talk for a couple flights and then I feel inspired to say, "Ok Kristin, I'm going to double-step with you for a couple flights now," ...and I do!
I go from wanting this to be over, to double-stepping. It feels really good.
The few moments of being in sync with Kristin are thrilling. After a few floors double-stepping, I know it's time to bid her farewell as I slow back down to my do-able single-step, still pulling myself up by the rail on each laborious step. Just as she appeared, she disappears up the stairwell. I hear her for a flight or two as she encourages climbers she meets on her way.
Before I can get discouraged again, somewhere in the floors between 50 and 60, I see another friendly face approaching from the flight below...David Hanley! Also climbing the 80 floors a second time just for fun, David is another elite climber I respect so highly, and a very friendly support through my climbing journey. We get to talk and climb a bit together too. Before moving on, he pauses on a landing just ahead, turns around and snaps my picture. We're facebook friends...both understanding that all important photo-op. How fun is it to be snapped at this juncture!
Thanks Fern, for sending Kristin and David my way.
I return to my solitary vigil in this heat-box stairwell and remember my daughter in-law, Rachel. I told her I would climb floors 50 - 80 in her honor today, because they require the most effort and dedication in order to reach my goal. I admire her effort and dedication in going after her dream in life, no matter what the obstacles, no matter how difficult the course, no matter what it takes. She, time and time again, re-dedicates herself to her pursuit. Monday morning she will take a difficult test-- one more hurdle to jump on her road to becoming a doctor.
I find myself on floors 65, 66, 67...gutting it out, thinking, "Rachel can do it. She can do it." Over and over, I think, "She can do it!"
My wishes for her are in sync with my need to borrow the effort and dedication from her, on these steps, so that I can do it.
I've been counting down the floors, saying nineteen, nineteen, nineteen up to the next floor, then eighteen, seventeen, sixteen...getting mixed up over and over, but knowing I'm almost there. By floor 75, I actually find some kind of strength to quicken my pace...
Walking out into the open room full of people on floor 80, I have one thought--find the elevator quickly and hope that by not stopping, I won't throw up! Not even a moment to remember to pick up my medal...just keep moving...
...down 80 floors, the elevator door opens, we're ushered around the hallways, ending up back behind the starting clock.
I glance up at the time...
It appears that I beat my time from last year.
Later in the afternoon, I discover...
I officially beat last year's time by 5 minutes and 14 seconds.
I'll take it.
As a good friend recommended after hearing this story, I'll do much more than take it.
I'm celebrating and appreciating my body for the effort it put out
and the work it got done on that stairwell.
And...
I'm riding this energy into my training for the "Hustle Up The Hancock" climb on Feb. 24!
 |
| After the climb. |
