"When you know better, you do better."

In training yesterday, Jesse shared a story about his grandfather, who many years ago, was a missionary in Japan. Having all but disappeared in our current-day global experience, missionary barrels were prevalent throughout the mid 1900's and earlier.

He told of huge cargo barrels his grandparents periodically received, sent from caring church members back in the United States. Traveling by ship, the barrels took approximately six months to reach their destination. Among other items, they were filled with multiple canned goods. As the story is told, on their journey through the Panama Canal, high humidity often caused the labels to break down and fall away, making one can indistinguishable from the next.  


In the story, Jesse's grandparents opened a can for dinner, only to be surprised by the contents.  Having lived through the depression, they certainly would not waste food, so their meal each night was whatever they happened to open. His grandfather confessed however, after a particularly long stretch of canned beets for dinner, one evening he finally had to say no. He could not eat another canned beet!


My parents, missionaries to the eastern bloc countries under communism in the 1970's, fared well with their "missionary barrels." By then, barrels had become boxes shipped by air. Because European food was familiar and desirable to both of them, there was no need for multiple canned goods to be shipped. 

Mary Ruth and Chester Gretz 1971

The care packages were filled with familiar American items mother missed, but could have done without--Bisquick, Jiffy Corn Muffin mixes, Nestle Toll House chocolate chips, baggies, paperback books, her favorite magazines and other cooking & baking products.  


A stand-out was the stack of "Canandaigua Daily Messengers,"-- their hometown local newspaper. Father smiled as he caught up on each story filled with names he recognized. He read aloud news of their friends, as mother delightedly arranged and stored her goodies in the European cabinets. My brother, a teenager at the time, went off to read the issue of "Sports Illustrated," packed just for him, though I'm quite certain he never received the swimsuit issue.


Like the barrels, missions in general have evolved over time. So many types of missions exist today. For instance, I have a friend who heads a mission which owns helicopters in the U.S. and Europe. They fly anywhere in the world there is a need, offering humanitarian aide as well as spiritual comfort and good news.  


Another, lives in the hills of a small Indian town raising her daughter alone since her husband passed away several years ago.  She simply befriends girls and women she comes in contact with wherever she goes, as she totally lives the lifestyle of her village neighbors--including sometimes walking treacherous rocky hills for miles to retrieve her water. 


As Jesse and I talked about his grandparents' canned goods story, we thought of how the Japanese diet, rich in fresh vegetables and fish perhaps could have been a healthy alternative. When my parents moved to a new continent, they had old habits flown across the ocean to them.  


Father did always love to garden and I'm grateful for all the fresh vegetables his gardens provided. In Europe, just as she had in East Bloomfield, NY, mother served his fresh vegetables for dinner all summer long. However, cucumbers were bathed in a yummy mayonnaise /vinegar /sugar dressing, and every vegetable was slathered in butter. An extraordinary baker, sugary desserts were always plentiful too. 


Most of my life I continued to eat and serve what I knew, which was processed foods, canned, quick, easy, white flour/bread/rice/pasta, nitrate-filled lunch meats and hot dogs, sugar, sugar, sugar, butter, butter, butter. The norm--what I knew.


Maya Angelou says, "When you know better, you do better."


Today I absolutely love my new breakfast shake of frozen banana & blueberries, cherries, almond butter, brown rice protein powder (no taste), ground flax seeds, borage & flax seed oil, water and ice. It takes me less than five minutes to prepare.


I'm learning to taste each vegetable instead of butter, and to prepare fish in various healthy, delicious ways. For the first time, I'm not growing herbs simply for their aroma and beauty--I use fresh herbs in cooking each day.

I'm ready to spring into more 
new learning experiences, 
to know 
how to live a healthy lifestyle.

Happiness In The Midst Of Change

Asked by friends, "So, how is the detox going?" ...the answer is complicated.  Part of the day I'm energized, almost to an electric buzz level.  Other times I'm slightly uncomfortable, edgy. Then after the prescribed Ultra Bath each night, I feel fantastic again. Some meals leave me completely stuffed, while others, so very hungry! 

I have a good workout with my trainer this morning, but catch a look at my face near the end--how in the world could it be so red! Jesse says it was actually glowing like I'd been in the sun when I first arrived for our session.  Concerned, I check my blood pressure only to discover it's perfect.

Everything in this seven day prescribed plan is new or different for my body to absorb, adjust to, and benefit from.  That's to be expected if my goal is to attack inflammation, boost my metabolism and immune system, rid my system of toxins and move into providing my body with proper replacements.

This is change, which can have moments of elation at new possibilities, times of disappointment over losing the familiar, and confusion as to exactly what's happening. Eventually we learn our way-- in a new job, location, home, economy, relationship, or health routine. We adjust, discovering how we fit in and where our efforts can best be placed.  We realize over time, even though the change may have been unwelcome at first, it can turn out to be very good for us after all.   

Our responsibility is to choose to see the positive while remaining grateful...not always easy, but it is a choice.  I recently read that ...happiness is 10% actual experiences and 90% is how you perceive those experiences. Setting goals each day and achieving them definitely benefits one's perception of the day!

While my body decides what it should do with these changes -- straight lemon juice with olive oil, probiotics, liver detox-supportive herbs, flax seed, borage oil, magnesium citrate,  two cups of steamed vegetables at lunch and dinner, vegetable broth with seaweed, no sugar/wheat/dairy/eggs/caffeine/alcohol, and more-- my job is to remain utterly convinced this is a great experience.  I'm certain such good changes are taking place that  I will benefit enormously going forward to the next level in my fitness goals and stair climbing.

At the end of the day after that Ultra Bath I mentioned (hot as one can stand it, with 2 c. Epsom salts, 1 c. baking soda and 10 drops lavender essential oil) I know I met my goals for the day.

I'm happy.

...and I choose to believe that red face this morning was the sign of healthy skin coming through...step by step, I'll get there.

~~~~~

No butter!  Still tasted good though.

Being Yourself, the Best Miracle

I recently viewed a video about the making of  "The 41st Day,"  a documentary following Ryan Hall this year as he prepares for the Olympics, up through the day he competes as an Olympic marathoner.  Inspired by the film's explanation for its title, I immediately checked the calendar to see exactly how many days I had before the Willis Tower stair climb on November 4th.

In the video Ryan explains that the documentary title arose from a conversation he and the producer had after Ryan read him the Bible story of David and Goliath.  This caught my attention.  It's quite rare to hear the sentence Ryan spoke to the producer in the video, "Remember that night when we were sitting around and I was reading you the story of David and Goliath?"

A quick summary:
In the story, two armies face each other, ready for battle on opposite sides of a steep valley. The Philistine, Goliath, referred to as a giant (over 9 ft. tall) in full armor, came out each day for forty days and taunted the Israelites--mocking and challenging them to fight. This evidently inspired great fear.  However, when David was sent to the front lines by his father, to find news of his older brothers, he heard Goliath's defiance and immediately began to persuade King Saul to let him fight the giant.  On the 41st day David approached Goliath, unarmed except for his slingshot. "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty..." One of his stones found a hole in Goliath's armor (forehead?) and he fell to the ground as David moved in for the kill. The Philistines retreated and became easy targets for the Israelite army. 

I divided the days between watching Ryan's video and my participation in the Willis Tower stair climb into three, forty-one day periods.  In order to reach the goals I set for each of the three "41 day" periods, my plan is to walk each day in confidence toward the goals, rather than languish in fear.  I could look back upon my past and define so many moments as inactive because of one fear or another.  That is over.  

Maybe it took me longer to get to the front lines.  But I'm there now, I've observed the giant, and I'm ready to fight.  As uncharacteristic as it is, for me to use army/battle/fighting analogies, it definitely works for my current inspiration.  

I close with an online commentary's summary:

• David chose not to wear the King's armor because it felt cumbersome and unfamiliar. David was comfortable with his simple slingshot, a weapon he was skilled at using. God will use the unique skills he's already placed in your hands, so don't worry about "wearing the King's armor." Just be yourself and use the familiar gifts and talents God has given you. He will work miracles through you.

My fight is not with a sword, or even a slingshot, but rather with honesty, creativity, hard work, compassion, dedication, and the desire to walk in love and joy, not in fear.

~~~~~~

Second day of detox...still not used to all the straight fresh lemon juice!  Enjoying the Ultra Shake...blueberries and banana today instead of strawberries, along with the almond butter, ground flax seed, borage oil and protein powder (recipe on yesterday's blog.)

Climbed stairs yesterday and today...whoa, the heat at the top on the last two floors--yikes, sucking very hot air!  Each day increasing the amount of floors I can double-step. Yes!

So many vegetables!  A friend shared that the reason I'm so very full on this simple, healthy diet, is that my metabolism isn't working properly.  The good news is, that's what this diet is for--to boost it!




Lunch - 1/2 c. brown rice & 2 c. vegetables.
Supper - same, but add organic chicken breast or fish.

Preparation - Birth To This Season

In preparation for November 4th's stair climb at Willis Tower, I created a series of goals I will meet in three 40-day increments.

Willis?  "Whatchu talkin' bout Willis?!"  The Sear's Tower, which has been re-named the Willis Tower,  is the skyscraper my husband climbed the morning after our first child was born.   Actually he took the elevator, but it was still pretty cool...

October 3rd, 1977 Matt is born at 11:00 p.m., followed by the usual hustle-about, elated phone calls, and precious moments. Finally settled in my Michael Reese Hospital room, wide awake for the night, I watch the sunrise through the huge picture window overlooking Lake Michigan.  Such beautiful new energy welcoming our son into the world! Kissing Harold goodbye, he's off to tend the day's obligations, till a lunchtime return.   I discover every "first" moment with our son--first sounds, moves, touches, smells, and first time singing my homemade lullaby to his soft tiny face looking up from my arms. Little do I know, Harold is looking out over the city of Chicago from the 103rd floor of the Sear's Tower.

"Roots" aired that January on television and Harold is thinking of the scene where Omor holds his newborn son up to the sky and proclaims, "Kunta Kinte - Behold the only thing greater than yourself!"

He wants to be as close to the sky as possible and realizes the Sear's Tower is the way to get there.  From the very top, Harold looks up to the sky and declares, "I have a son! I have a son!"

If the only way to reach the 103rd floor that day had been the stairs, he would have run them!

...the time it took for this reminiscence distracted my mind from the Ultra Shake I'm drinking.  I felt like a lab scientist making it, so was doubtful this drink with oils, powders and seeds could taste good.

After the first few sips, it grew on me.  By the end, I enjoyed it!

More tomorrow about my first 40 day goals...and why 40 days.  Today however, I embark on the first of a seven-day detox and replacement therapy--from Mark Hyman, M.D.

Big shopping day yesterday
gathering everything I need!

For breakfast every day,
and afternoon snack if hungry.
I use frozen blueberries--yum! 
Ice is optional...
it's smoother without the ice.

Ultra Broth

3 quarts water

1 large chopped onion

2 sliced carrots

1 cup of daikon or white radish root and tops (ideal, but optional)

1 c. of winter squash cut into large cubes (like acorn)

1 cup of root vegetables:  turnips, parsnips, and rutabagas for sweetness

2 cups of chopped greens:  kale, parsley, beet greens, collard greens, chard, dandelion, cilantro, or other greens

2 celery stalks

1/2cup of seaweed:  nori, dulse, wakame, kelp, or kombu

½ cup of cabbage

4  ½-inch slices of fresh ginger

2 cloves of whole garlic (not chopped or crushed)

Sea salt to taste

If available, you can add 1 cup of fresh or dried shiitake or maitake mushrooms.

Add all ingredients at once and place on a low boil for 60 minutes or longer to desired taste.  Cool, strain (throw away the cooked vegetables) and store in a large, tightly sealed glass container in the fridge.

Heat gently and drink at least 3 – 4 cups a day.

--from “The UltraSimple Diet, Kickstart Your Metabolism…in 7 Days” by Mark Hyman, M.D.

~~~~~~~

It feels good to be cooking with so many fresh vegetables.
However, the seaweed?
Not used to it in my soup.
I think it's an acquired taste, which I suppose I'll acquire
since it's on the menu every day this week!

Each of these seven days will start with drinking the juice of half a lemon in 2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil, followed by 20 - 60 minutes of Yoga, at least 30 minutes of writing, and then the juice of the other half of the lemon with hot water.  Next, a cup of green tea, and finally the Ultra Shake for breakfast.

If my final goal is to climb the Willis/Sears Tower on November 4th with a different body than the one I climbed with last season, I believe this is a great way to start the change! 

 

This will be my highest climb ever,

and I've been told the steps are steep.

"It's All About The Journey"

January 2011 found me running along Mission Bay early every morning.  I use the term "running" loosely.

After a quick snack of oatmeal or nuts to start the day, I walked out the cottage door of my vacation rental, on to the boardwalk of the bay just steps away.  The first two weeks I greeted each morning walking briskly along the sand, up to the park, curving around by the roller coaster, and circling back, across Mission
Boulevard along the ocean. Sun fresh off the dawn, flocks of birds gathering quietly along the water, an occasional "snowbird" or two crossing my path--an idyllic two-mile start to the day.

Attending a daily Fitcamp in San Diego on the bay,  I committed to working out twice a day and adding on as many walks by the sea as possible.  My goal was to make a difference!  I wanted the difference of feeling fit.  I wanted the difference of being physically prepared for an athletic event, as my first stair climb was February 2011, a half-climb of the John Hancock building in Chicago.

My friends and trainers taught and encouraged, inspired and supported.  They reminded me, "It's all about the journey."  I said I understood.

What I really wanted was to magically turn into a lean, fit athlete.  Something inside me was crying out for it.  Overweight since the mid 80's, I needed to move.  Not having moved for so many years, I didn't know how to make myself keep moving. 

I wanted to be strong.  I didn't know how to push myself to the necessary limits. 

I needed to accomplish, overcome, be victorious.  Finally I believed in walking forward without hesitation into every opportunity life offered.  I believed, "The time is now!"

Two weeks into this experience, walking along the bay one morning, I think it's time to run.  I tell myself it's impossible, I can't breathe, I just cannot do it.  Physically, I pick up one foot and then the other a little higher, a little quicker, and watch the street signs go by -- Avalon, Balboa, Brighton... I have to stop and walk again. Really, two blocks?

The next day I make it three, to Capistrano, and that's where I stay for many days.  It seems that my little three-block run is as far as I can go.

Then one morning as I start my jog at Avalon, Coldplay is on my i-Pod singing about being stuck in reverse, losing something, wasting love, lights guiding you home, and  best of all, igniting your bones...and I keep running.  The guitar picks up a steady faster rhythm in the instrumental section and the percussion flares up...stronger ...more guitar...the song swells..."Tears stream down your face," ...and sure enough tears are streaming down my face. 

I pass Balboa, Brighton, Capistrano, then Cohasset, Coronado, Deal...music is inside me, driving the crescendo of emotion running through me and then there's San Gabrielle Place, and just another block I'll reach Devon Ct. ..."when you lose something you cannot replace,"...yes, all these years...

..."I promise you I will learn from my mistakes"...and I'm promising myself. 

Devon Court!  I start walking again at Devon.  I laugh because back in Chicago, Devon Avenue is a few blocks from my home.  The music slows, coming to an end...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Brushing tears from the corner of my eyes as these words become my vow to myself from that moment on, 

I know the light which guides me.

The journey Carisse and Palani talk about continues.  I did not magically become a super-fit athlete by February of 2011.  I haven't broken any records (yet.) 

I am healthy.

Sometimes I feel like everything's ignited! 

I'm taking care of myself,

already preparing for the fall season of stair climbing.

Understanding a bit more,

a good way down the road,

enjoying a look back

at this journey.

Dinner at 9 A.M.

Today's Bounty

I considered posting daily menu plans.   What looks good on paper and in books, intersects with real life however and requires continual adjustments to the plan!

Attempting to eat every three hours and having my big meal of the day at 9 a.m. involves strategic planning.  Sparing readers the details, suffice it to say I'm working on it.

Tried a new smoothie today.  Was looking forward to tasting it, but honestly, I didn't hold out much hope for anything called:

Blueberry and Broccoli Smoothie

Recipe
1 cup frozen Blueberries
1/2 cup steamed Broccoli
1 cup 100% cranberry juice (I used Pomegranate/Blueberry,"Pom")
1/2 cup non-fat plain Greek yogurt

SURPRISE!

It's delicious...can't taste the broccoli,

fruity, not too sweet, just right. 

So healthy and hearty too.

It's a meal!

Eating solely for fuel to build a strong body is the antithesis of every reason I ever ate before.

This may take awhile.





Re: Blueberry Broccoli Smoothie
      It's a large portion, so if you sip it over time, it does begin to
      separate.  Simply take a spoon and stir to bring it back to
      original consistency.  Seriously very good.  Harold tasted it
      and agreed to have it for dinner sometime with me!

Shifting Energy

Page from "In My Window,"
an early childhood book I wrote a few years ago.

Changing a bedtime and
rising-time should be easy, correct?  There can be ripples, accidental consequences, complications.  

I always thought of myself as a late night person, relishing those hours hidden from the day.  If pushed to say more, I'd reveal they feel stolen away from life, like my own special time wandering through the minutes without boundaries.  It's who I am, and who I'm thought to be.

I understand that my plan to be in bed at 9:45 and rise at 5:45 is accepted less than fully.  It's the same "grain of salt" which was in the air last November when I announced, "I'm going to become a competitive athlete."  So many years of staying up late and not exercising, naturally leads those who know me well to different conclusions.

My role fits into a neat little box, next to everyone else's role in each of their boxes, and we stack up however we stack up.  Regardless, it's what we do. 

Inevitable consequences when change occurs?  Yes.
Inevitably negative?  Doesn't have to be.

I met my goals... 1) of improving with each tower race this year, and  2) I topped the list of competitors in my age group in the race last Sunday.

Peers have asked how my knees hold out with all the stair climbing.  I've deduced that not having exercised for fifty-seven years actually leaves my knees in great shape for a sixty year old to be climbing stairs!  Likewise, my new theory is -- having never been disciplined about a regular bedtime, or exercise and proper healthy meals all these years, leaves me with an extraordinary amount of energy to apply to a regular bedtime, exercise and proper healthy meals!

I'm aware conventional reasoning proposes all these years of one behavior make it more difficult to change.  I am not conventional.  In truth, no one is...but that's another entry. 

We are each a glowing mass of energy. 

Cheers to no more boxes!



P.S.  And my blog written by 8:00 a.m.!

2012 Fight For Air Climb at Presidential Towers

What a different start to this race, compared to the Stratosphere last weekend! 
Ushered into a crowded cafeteria setting, I sit while Harold parks the car.  Next to my table, three fathers wait with sons and daughters.  I don't remember seeing any children in the Vegas climb.  Almost every table is full--climbers listening for their numbers to be called.  No music, no space to stretch or move around. The energy is not electric.  I even forget to make sure my iPod is set up correctly for the "stair music" Playlist.

Volunteers escort us across the street to Presidential Towers.  Efficient-- no lines, no hustle, no delay...simply walk up to the clock and, "Go." 

Inside the stairwell, I turn on my iPod to discover it's the wrong Playlist.  Yikes!  What is this music in my ears?  Certainly not stair climbing music!  Concentrating on climbing, I blindly push another button on the iPod, attempt to adjust to whatever song it is, and finally yank the earplugs out of my ears. 

No music today.  Just a very narrow stairwell.  And I do mean narrow.  Difficult for anyone to pass. Small amount of steps in each flight also.  Seems like I'm on another landing after every few steps!  So many people all bunched up together.  Very hot.

I skip steps in my new leaning-forward-one-hand-at-a-time-pulling-myself-up-on-the-rail technique.  Well, it's not a new technique, simply new to me.  This time I make it to about the fifth or sixth floor.  An improvement.

After that, the usual...except more crowded, hotter, and more closed in.  I'm longing for some of that electric energy from last week.  Most of the participants I've seen so far are young adults and they seem to be keeping about the same pace I am.  My problem, as ever, is that I have to stop momentarily from time to time, and they don't.

I come upon an older couple blocking the stairway climbing together, but don't have whatever it takes to pass them.  I start thinking out loud, "These steps sure are smaller than my last race," when the woman responds by asking me what race that was.  I reply, "The John Hancock...the Aon building...the Stratosphere..." and offer a dramatic pause before concluding, "...but the smaller stairs here, still aren't making it any easier for me to breathe!!!"  She, her husband and I all laugh.

I glance at my watch on floor 39 and think to myself there is no way I can finish this tower in the time my trainer said he thought I could.  When I left the gym after Friday's workout, on the way out the door Jesse called out, "Cheryl?"

"Yes?"

"Nine minutes!"

"What?  Oh, you mean my tower...9 minutes.  Got it!"

With the energy that has typified this morning, I continue on, crossing the finish line of my tower on the 49th floor, wishing I had done better.

Down the elevator, re-tracing my steps to Harold, I pass the women volunteers as they ask, "Are you climbing Tower 2?"  

Not today. 

One of them who remembered me from the start added,  "Well, you did this one really fast!"  Ha, I believe they thought this old lady would take longer.

On to Starbucks for a lengthy and animated discussion breaking down what happened each minute of this morning, over my iced decaf venti latte.  So many factors.  Over so quickly.  What if, why, how could I have, why didn't I...lots of second guessing.  But more importantly, starting to get my energy back as I plan for the fall!

Returning to Presidential Towers to hand in my timing chip, we run into Jesse, with Javier, PJ, Brady, Justin and the other elite stair climbers.  I'm excited for them and all their accomplishments... outstanding!   I let Jesse know I didn't make my tower in 9 minutes.  He says to wait there while he goes for an official print-out of my time.

A few minutes later he places a little piece of white paper in my hand.  I look down...underneath my name, across from Tower 1... it says: 

8:00:13

I let out a squeal of delight!  I  DID  make my nine minutes, and then some!  In fact, if I'd even run up the last three steps, I could have so easily shaved off that 13 one-hundredths of a second, and had a time of 7 and something.  Sooooo happy!

I return to stair climbing seven months from now.

Magic is going to happen!

I have a goal for each of these next seven months.  I will find the support I need in order to build myself into the stairclimber who leads in my age group. I will put in the work it takes to re-shape myself into the positively overflowing-with-health-and-fitness 60 yr. old I know I can be --  Even if it means eating tuna, asparagus, broccoli, kale, spinach, red peppers, eggs and beans every single day!

Turning 61 on October 13th,

I'll celebrate the full realization of this quest,

then blow the rest of 2012's Tower Races

through the roof!

Congratulations on all these amazing times!

Looking back, I improved with every single race.  Looking forward...the sky's the limit!

Monday morning:  Communication back and forth with timers from race late last night and this morning...turns out the 8:00:13 was actually what time it was when I reached the top. 
My time for the 49-floor climb was actually just posted at 7:55  !!

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

~~~~~~~

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!

~~~~~~~

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!

Sunrise and Workout

When I stay near the top of Ceasars Palace's Augustus Tower, I like to leave the wall of curtains open wide when I retire for the night.  Waking to the sun rising in the distance over the mountains, is the perfect beginning to my daily routine.

This morning after watching the sky blend hues of black, blue, and grey with streaks and layers of pink, orange and finally yellow light of day, I reach for my cell phone to check my email--a rapid shift from the sublime to the technological.  All about connection though.

Opening a message from Linda, I read:

Dara Torres won her 12^th gold medal in the 2008 Olympics at the age of 41 and continues to train for her 6^th Olympics.  When asked about her age she said, “The water doesn’t know what age you are!” 

And neither do the stairs, Cheryl!  Keep it up!

The light to my day.

Proceeding to my workout, I designed it in real time to the time I expect to be on the steps of the Stratosphere, breaking down the sets of minutes into levels of exertion I plan for the climb at those same intervals.  I finished at exactly the time I want to finish on Saturday.

My subconscious is memorizing this. 

Running and stairclimbing are jobs of the subconscious mind.  It loves the job, like it loves to keep a heart beating or a lung expanding and contracting.  I'm giving it this new job!  My work is getting my conscious mind out of the way.

Later today I'll do it again.

Then rest.

Curtains open.

What's that next level of atmosphere? Oh yeah...

~Marc Paulus

Las Vegas boasts its Stratosphere is the tallest freestanding tower in the U.S.

That's where I'm headed tomorrow for the Saturday climb.

Tonight feeling tired from Sunday's Hancock race.  These next two days in Vegas are important to rest and get acclimated.

By Saturday I'll be re-energized.

No trips to Serendipity for chocolate covered cheesecake on a stick or banana splits!  Bananas yes, the split part, no. 


Instead, fruit in the spa, make-your-own-salad in the food court, and careful choices anywhere else.  Find some Smart water.


This 108 floor climb doesn't feel like 108 floors at all, according to Jesse.  He is predicting I'll be way under my time from last weekend.

That's the plan:   rest, healthy food, exercise, new energy.

New heights...

and new times.

~from Climate Education K-12

A new level of atmosphere for me!

Hustle Up the Hancock 2012

"Top Finishers - Full Climb Elite: Congratulations to Justin Stewart of Springfield, IL, winner of the Elite Division with a blazing fast speed of 9 minutes and 44 seconds. The fastest woman climber was Kristin Frey of Schaumburg, IL.

She conquered the climb in just 10 minutes and 56 seconds."

~taken from "Hustle Up the Hancock" official results notification email

(I would like to credit the photographers, but their names weren't listed.)

I'm very excited for Justin and Kristin's great success yesterday.  They are soaring through these races, improving their times with each one.

Also happy for a friend in her early twenties who prepared and participated in the race yesterday -- her first official stair climbing experience. She came in with a 22 minute and 29 seconds finish. Way to go Yvette!

I'm exchanging emails today with another friend, a retired English teacher, who recently recovered from knee replacement surgery, and now wants to move into stairclimbing.  He's figuring out how best to train, with a goal of competing in next year's "Hustle Up the Hancock."  Alright Rich!

Giving huge credit where credit is due, I also congratulate the number one woman in my age group, 65 yr. old Nesa Anderson, who finished in 17 minutes and 54 seconds.  Definitely impressive.

While I currently remain in the bottom half of the women in my age category, I am still pleased with my time yesterday as I was able to shave four minutes and twenty-two seconds off my time from the Aon building climb on January 29th. 

My goal going forward is to improve in each climb. 

A few details about yesterday:

     --  A beautiful sunny day on Michigan Avenue!
     --  An exciting start, knowing my family was there to support me, and
          chatting in line with fellow climbers.
     --  By floor seven I felt weak already, even though I started with so much
          energy. Only 87 more floors to go!  I checked my pace, proceeding
          on through, taking the briefest rests every eight or ten floors.
     --  Around floor 80 I was fading, when "I Get High With A Little Help From My
          Friends" came on my I-Pod. I started saying, "I can do this. Peggy said I
          can. Kathy said I can. Jackie said I can!"  A few floors later I said,
          "Ok, I CAN!"      
     --  My plan was to run up the last several floors, but didn't find the push
          inside myself to do it. Each floor closer to the 94th, I kept postponing the
          run.  I walked out of the stairwell at the end.
     --  First highlight?  Finishing drenched in sweat from the effort, but literally
          on top of the world!
     --  Second highlight?  Later in the afternoon, calling out to Harold in the next
          room when I saw my time posted, "I beat my time from the 80-floor Aon
          building climb by 4 minutes and 22 seconds!"
     --  Furthermore, out of 28 women in my category, only one other woman and
          I climbed both the Aon and the Hancock, less than a month apart!


Post Script from today's training session:
Jesse explained that the weakness I spoke of feeling between floors seven and ten will always be there, no matter how fit I become--it will simply start at a higher floor.  He said stairclimbing does it to everyone!

I'm working on a video to post in the future...

In the meantime, a couple light-hearted photos:

Washing a few windows for the Hancock building after my race!

Harold said he was being silly showing off his "Team Cheryl" t-shirt from last year,
while waiting in the Observatory as I climbed.

Family

 Looking up where we'd just been!