Small Accomplishments

I signed myself up for a charity challenge event that ended up being a lot of fun. The objective? Raise money for the American Lung Association. The task? Race to the top of this:



50 stories. 1150 steps. Full gear. Fastest time wins. This is an annual event here in Atlanta, and several on my county's team had done it time and time before. It was my first year and my nerves ended up kicking into high gear the night before. The morning of the climb I was high strung and bouncing off the walls. I wanted to finish. More than finish, I wanted to do well. I wanted to be fast!



There were a lot of people signed up for the challenge, and everyone chatted while waiting their turn....





Almost time to go... They let one person start every ten seconds so there wasn't a mad rush at the door. Each racer had a timing chip on their boots that kept track of your individual time.


It was finally my turn. The first ten floors went by quickly. Then my legs started burning. The burn lasted six or eight floors then passed quickly. By floor 22 I was almost halfway up. That was a frustrating place to be. Almost halfway there. By floor 35 everyone had slowed down and was struggling to keep up their personal pace. I had a few people pass me, and passed a few as well. On the 38th floor, I took advantage of a water station they had set up and wet my parched throat before continuing on. I had assumed the worst part of the challenge would be painful knees or sore legs. I never anticipated the lack of oxygen in the stairwell. There had been hundreds of marathon runners ascend the stairs before the firefighters challenge, and at each floor, the doors were closed to any hallways. The air in the stairwell was so dry it burned in your throat and chest. There was such poor airflow and circulation, that the final ten flights were a struggle. On the 46th floor I passed another firefighter lying on the stairs, panting and sweating in exhaustion. I stopped and asked jokingly if he was dying. He said "nah, just keep going". I couldn't just let him lie there, so I said "Come on, we'll finish together. You don't have to go fast just don't stop. We've gone too far to quit now." Groaning, he got up and continued his climb.



As I neared the 50th floor, I could feel an improvement in the air quality, and could hear the crowd of supporters cheering their peers and friends on. It was finally my turn. The timing clock beeped as my boot crossed the doorway. I did it! My time wasn't spectacular, but at least I did it. (And I know what to expect next year!)