288

This morning Rebecca ran her 20-miler, gearing up for the Chicago Marathon, which I am also signed up to run.  It was supposed to be our first marathon together.  She kicked butt and remained (fairly) injury-free.  I’m getting a refund, thankfully.  It was supposed to be my best time, yet, hopefully working my way to qualifying for Boston (probably by age 45 when the qualifying times get easier!).  God had other plans for me.  

Instead, I’m on a daily basis debating whether or not this SkyRise Chicago stair climb event is biting off way more than I can chew.  Usually I’m thinking I’ll just climb the last 40 stories or something like that.  But this week is really boosting my confidence:

Tuesday: 112 stairs (crushing my previous PR of 58)

Thursday: 140 stairs

Today, Saturday, I had some extra time so I decided to shoot for my entire apartment building, no matter how long it took.  I took the elevator down to the first floor, walking with my crutches.  I waddled over to the staircase, turned on the iPod shuffle, and started.  The first few floors are the hardest thanks to the amenities.  Floor 4, where the pool and rooftop deck are, kicked my ass.  That was 38 stairs alone.  I kept trucking on up, taking a break here and there to stretch my shoulders which were getting a workout.  I use the front of my shoulders constantly for pushing the wheelchair and walking, but don’t really “pull” much, which is what you do when you’re climbing stairs the way I do.  They were achy starting halfway up the 4th floor.  

At floor 8, Rebecca jumped in the stairwell to say hi and cheer me on.  She ran to get me a water and also helped by taking the crutch I wasn’t using on up to the top.  I had been throwing it up to the flight above me over and over again, so that was an unexpectedly removed annoyance.  

Floor 11, 12, 13….

I made it up to floor 18 without too much difficulty.  I had no idea how long I had been working.  I noticed there was another long flight of stairs to the rooftop.  I didn’t like the idea of leaving those untouched, so I kept going.  I thought the idea of opening up the door and soaking in the night air would feel awesome.  I was drenched in sweat.  I pushed on up to the top only to find that the stupid door was locked.  But I made it.  It took me another few minutes to walk down those last 19 stairs, onto the 18th floor, and into the elevator, walking back to the apartment on the 10th floor.

There are 288 stairs from the first floor to the roof, and they all experienced both of my feet :)  I got back and Rebecca said, “That was less than an hour!”  I then just sat there for a minute and realized I had far exceeded my goals for the week.  I said, “Hmmm… what should I do next time?  Just do the same thing, take the elevator down to 1, and do it again?  Ha!”  

So maybe I have a shot at the Sears Tower.  I don’t know.  Time will tell.

Feeling pretty pumped.

Chip